A Close Brush with Disaster

For the past few weeks, I started using different techniques to process my breakup with the man I love. I had started out with yoga some months back, and I found that it helped me a lot on the days I was overwhelmed with emotions. Later I opened up to guided meditation and mindfulness, in addition to reading about dealing with grief.

This helps at times, but at others I just need to stop and let the pain of missing my beloved go through me like a tidal wave, until it crashes on the shores of my soul and leaves me at peace. Today was one of those days.

Perhaps part of it is hormonal, in addition to factors of stress and dealing with planning and problems alone. We are traveling on a short trip for Easter and there are tons of things to arrange before then. On top of that, yesterday the gearbox of my car gave way completely as I was on the way to work.  The security guard had waved me through after a brief check at the office barrier and when I handled the gear to put in first it was a uselessly swinging pendulum. By some miracle I could drive the car home (it was possibly stuck on 3rd gear), but it had to be towed from there to the mechanic. Huge amounts of money are needed now to fix  it. It is a British tin of rubbish, but I have grown attached to it, for all the care and nursing it needed. Later in the day I also had to deal with my son’s anxiety about his upcoming dental appointment, and today when I took him to the dentist I was greatly unsettled by the size of the cavity hole and the procedure the dentist followed to remove the pulp of his tooth (the equivalent of a root canal in an adult).  And again there was a huge bill to pay.

My son handled the treatment surprisingly well, and managed to go on to music lesson right after.  But when I finally sat down to process my stressful situation, I was overwhelmed by sadness and the need for a shoulder to cry on. I felt the pain of missing my beloved more acutely and sharply. I stopped to meditate and felt my tears flow freely, and it was a relief perhaps to let go of all this grief and sadness. My day however stayed unsettled as I went on to work after sending my boy back home with a take-away lunch of Sushi to make up for his discomfort.

Throughout the day I fought the urge to text my beloved. I had lunch then coffee and checked again that he hasn’t shown up online since last night. I ran to the bank to replenish my balance, as I did not have enough Kenyan pesa (money) to pay rent. I checked again with my son to see whether his numb jaw had resolved. I made a toilet stop after the bank and I rested my phone and wallet in the stall. When I finished I just collected my handbag and left everything else there. I stopped at the mail drop point to see whether I had any uncollected letters and chatted to a colleague there at length about my upcoming trip, and what I could get her from there, then went on to my desk to continue my paperwork. Only when I checked for my phone did I remember that I left it in the bathroom. I ran to the bathroom downstairs like a madwoman. A uniformed cleaning staff was busy mopping the floor, but there in the last cubicle I saw my phone sitting on top of my brown wallet and the deposit slip from the bank (both of which I had not yet missed). I almost stumbled on my feet to retrieve them and hurriedly retreated out the bathroom nodding thanks to the cleaning woman. Later I discovered that there were a few bills missing. By coincidence, I had counted my change at the bank to see whether I had enough for taxi fare to the airport (I had some change amounting to a 1500 Kenyan Shilling or 15 dollars). The kindly thief left me with 500 Shilling, which was the largest denomination bill  I had in cash, and it was enough for taxi fare home. I was shaking all over when I went back to my office and I think I randomly babbled about the incident to some unknown people in the corridor. My colleague from next door came to inquire and we both agreed that I was extremely lucky. Kenya again has been good to me. I had the fortune of meeting with a kindhearted thief. She is wholeheartedly forgiven, for leaving my wallet alone. I cannot imagine what losing it would have meant for my travel plans tomorrow.  I would have had to cancel our trip for sure. That would have broken my son’s heart, and perhaps it was his guardian angels looking out for my wallet, not mine.

The incident left me shaken to the core, and gave me a reason to text my love. Again, I reached out in my state of shock to complain in one short text about how bad I felt. I only mentioned the car and how I nearly lost wallet and phone. Again the answer comes back completely detached. He told me that when he nearly loses things it is a warning to be more careful. I know baby, I wanted to say, I was just having a bad day, I miss you. Heck I might have even said something along that line, minus the terms of endearment.

Another meditation session followed, some more tears flowed. It is perhaps that time of the month, the turbulence of the change years. I crave chocolate, sex, and perhaps some attention. I pine for my beloved like a teenager, only I am grey, wrinkled and pathetic. At least mediation teaches me to accept what I cannot change. I just breathe through the pathetic rush of emotions.

The storm is all but passed now. He just send me a message meant as usual for someone else, a friend, unlike me. He invited them to drinks because he and his wife are around for the hols. I know I did the right thing to leave this guy, I just need to convince my heart.

 

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One Response to A Close Brush with Disaster

  1. Pingback: The Angels of Nairobi | The Loskop Diaries

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