Here I am sat in my bathroom just having looked back at ‘my memories’ on Facebook and reminded of some questions I posed the kids back in 2015 and like a hammer punch to the chest, it hits me that I miss them, their sweet answers of how beautiful I am etc is making me cry.
Then I see a meme about getting fucked up on a Friday and staying like it all weekend that I shared, I miss my old life. I had a good balance seeing the kids and having a bloody good social life, here I don’t have my kids or a social life with friends, I don’t have the option to walk into a pub and have a nonsense conversation with Loud Dave over a glass of koppenberg with lots of ice on a Wednesday lunchtime at my local, I don’t have the option to go to karaoke and hog the mic all night and I don’t have the option to see my kids whenever I wanted to or stay with my youngest child until he falls asleep then I’m packed off home again to my room and by fuck I miss that life.
I wouldn’t change this life for anything, I have the love of the man who saved me and his family and a really good job, I just wish I could have the above as well. Call it selfish but sometimes I feel so alone over here and no one to talk too, no one to get fucked up with at the weekends or even the option as due to our living arrangements we have kids every weekend, so sacking off to the pub after work isn’t an option for me, if I have his kids I’m picking them up from school so even if someone asked me to the pub on a Friday I couldn’t go or the next weekend my kids are down and of course I am home with them, I had the option to go to a grease night in a couple of weeks but I shan’t be going, the man who saved me said he can look after my kids for the night but they are my responsibility and I don’t see them enough so my pink ladying can wait until another day (not to mention we haven’t got enough spare cash to allow me to go out and get royally fucked up on a Saturday because unlike my old hometown, this one it is massive compared to my little village in Kent and you have to get a cab here if you want to get fucked up).
I feel like such a bitch for even saying I want my old life, I miss finishing work at 3 and nipping home and seeing the kids while I wait for my best friend becky to finish work (we worked in the same place but she finished later than me) then we would meet at the pub for a drink or seven. I do miss that and I miss her so fucking much, even if I could make both my worlds intertwine I could never recreate that as she passed away on the 10th June last year, my Dot Cotton drinking buddy went and left me, maybe that’s why I am feeling like I am a bit, it’s coming up to her birthday at the weekend, coming up to the last time I saw her and coming up to that dreadful day I got the call. I miss my foxy so much, wherever she is I hope she is having some wine, it’s been a fantastic bank holiday to be in a pub garden.
I close my eyes and pretend I have the man who saved me AND my old life together, if I shut them tight enough I can pretend for just that little bit longer.