Goodbye, 2014, you absolute rotter. Hello 2015, a year which promises to be significantly better.
I started 2014 with high hopes. I had a woman who I loved completely, a nice home in the countryside, a week in Sharm el Sheikh to look forward to, and a job I’d been wanting to do for several years and was now doing. All was going well. I was happy. H-A-P-P-Y.
But then things changed.
Egypt came and went and I gathered memories which I have sealed inside my heart. We returned to England and because of external forces, internal forces, my own bloody-minded selfishness, Clare and I went our separate ways. I still loved her. I still wanted her. But I made the mistake of putting my pride before this magnificent woman who had sacrificed so much for me. It’s my one huge regret of 2014. My one huge regret of life. I have made mistakes before. We all have. “To err is human”. I have yet to sit and post-mortem that time in my life. I don’t want to. I fear that what I uncover will be too much for me to handle just yet. Better to bury those times deep inside me – in a locked box somewhere – and forget where I put the key.
I left Clare and I moved to my little flat in Darlington – and for the briefest of times I was happy. I met a new lady. She turned out to be batshit insane, but we had fun. Work continued to teach me things about myself and other people I didn’t previously understand.
Then in August 2014 Clare came back into my life like a breath of fresh-air. How mad had I been to allow her to get away from me? How had I not fought with every fibre of my being and every resource available to me to keep her by my side? How did I let her go? I made a commitment to her then – it was unspoken; I never got the chance to tell her before she passed away. But I still read the words from time to time and I know that for the briefest of moments I was true to myself and true to her.
In September 2014 Clare Sandford died. And she took with her a part of me. I know I’ll never get it back. I know I will never be the same again. When she died a part of me died too. I feel her loss as keenly now as I did then. It’s a terrible, terrible thing. It gets easier. I knew it would. But not a day goes by when I don’t think of her in some way.
Since then there have been other women in my life but none of them come close to Clare. None of them match her. They stopped me feeling so profoundly alone in the world, but her memory eclipses all.
Onto 2015. A new year, a new start? Perhaps not. This is a year when I have to stand still. I have to take stock. I need to reapply a degree of stability to my life. I make no resolutions. I do not promise to eat healthy or exercise. I only want to make it through to 2016 in a better place than I am right now. Financially, emotionally, personally, I want 2015 to be the year when I can look back and say, I’m further forward than I was 365 days ago.
So I guess I will have to wait another 364 days before I can do that. Stand still. Take stock. Make no sudden moves. Think things through. Do only that which matters and is positive. Leave negativity behind.
It’s important to look after myself and look after Tom. It’s important I work hard and be frugal not frivolous. I’ll leave now with a little mantra I gleaned from the twitter: “Don’t let things which don’t matter much matter much”.
Have a safe and successful 2015. I’ll see you on the otherside.
8 thoughts on “2015 – the obligatory new year post”
I am so sorry for your loss. I hope that 2015 brings you many new opportunities as well as health and happiness. I have also experienced a loss such as yours in 2013 and though it never really gets better, it does get easier with time. Hold on to the good memories and find comfort in those. 🙂
Life sucks sometimes. You’ll never think of Clare any less often but you’ll find that, in time, the tears are replaced with smiles. My usual reaction to loss is to throw myself into my work – gives me something else to think about and stops me from dwelling on things. I do think you should give yourself more time before thinking about dating other women though – you need to be content in yourself before you can be happy with anyone else. I wish you all the best for 2015.
I’m so very sorry for your loss. I, too, am in a bad place right now – 2014 was a horrible year, for different, but no less painful, reasons. I have been so very hopeless for such a long time now. Your words have touched me. I love your sentiment – to let this year be a year of healing, of stillness and contemplation. Maybe, if I’m quiet and still enough, hope will return. Thank you for your insight!
This is rather heavy baggage to carry with you; it really makes sense that you don’t want to burden yourself with superficial resolutions. Your writing is compelling, and it makes me feel like I could understand you… even if I don’t, how could I, what have I lost? Inspiring nevertheless, I can only wish you the best. Hope the days to come will bring you closer to the person you want to be. I’m sorry for your loss. And I wish you luck in what is yet to gain.
Thank you ally79, missbishi, galmal & heyan for your kind words. Time is a great healer. Huge cliche but very true.
Bless you… My dad died in October & I’ve been more grief stricken than I could possibly have imagined. I’m only just starting to feel more normal now. I know it’s not the same but I get a bit how you feel.
I’m so sorry to read about your sad loss – my heart goes out to you, and I wish you all the very best for the coming year.
I think you are doing exactly the right thing by standing still and taking stock for this year; sometimes it’s absolutely necessary to do just that if we are to shake off any negativity and move forward with our lives.
Good luck to you.
So sorry to hear about your loss. I too hope that 2015 brings you a better year, and if not, a year that helps you in all the ways that you need. I wish you the best of luck in everything this year.