I'm right back there, watching him pack, wishing like hell he wasn't going. I'm reliving the loss of our relationship all those years ago. But I've been very upset and can't work out why. Till then, I'd always assumed his death would mean nothing to me. But that day never came and he died a few weeks later. Apparently, he was really pleased to get my letter and planned to reply just as soon as he felt a bit better. I needed to let him know it turned out all right for me in case he still harboured guilt, which I knew from mutual friends he did for a while. That made it a lot easier for everyone who loved him. I just had time to get a letter to him to say goodbye. I went into a tailspin, which makes little sense to me. Then a few weeks ago, I heard that Nick had cancer and hadn't long to live. After a few years, I moved 200 miles away, met John with whom I've been very happily unmarried for 24 years and I never gave my ex another thought. I now realise these were just transitional relationships. For a while I thought I was doomed to attract men who didn't want to stay.
There were other boyfriends but nothing lasted. I could no longer wish that Nick would return as his place was obviously with his wife and child. I was fairly sure a baby would soon follow as indeed happened. His years of I don't want to get married and have kids turned out to be I do. He wanted my blessing, but I was too devastated even to reply. I'd hoped he'd be my last, but it wasn't to be.
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