A love lost.

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A love lost.

I went into the wardrobe to get some albums out, I know there are photographs in there which need sorting. I came across some letters which I had forgotten about, from 50 years ago. How long are you supposed to keep them? 
I was 20 and went on holiday with a friend, and my boyfriend wrote to me at the hotel in Majorca. I was mad about him, and he was about about me. 

 We were together about 18 months I think. I had a flat and he had a house. He was eleven years older than me and divorced, and had a steady job, two jobs in fact. I met him at work, he worked part time at the same place as I worked full time. He asked me to go for a drink, I made an excuse and said no. Then a day or so later I regretted it and told him I had changed my mind, and hoped it wasn't too late. He said no it wasn't, so I met him for a drink. 

I liked him, he was good looking, mature, considerate, honest, and steady. I met his mother. Apparently she was a bit concerned because I was quite a bit younger than her son. I was 20 and he was 31. He treated me well, we went out dancing, on holiday, and were getting on great. He was pleased to see me when I arrived back from holiday. 

He loved playing snooker and was very good at it. He belonged to a snooker club and would often win tournaments. I accompanied him on many of these outings to play in other clubs in the area. I was proud to be his girlfriend. Dressing up in fashionable clothes so he would be proud of me. 

After a while, his passion for snooker meant that he was playing more often. I still accompanied him but I realised that we weren't doing much else. I was becoming a snooker widow. 

Then my attention was diverted by someone else who worked at my place, who just happened to be from my home town. We started chatting and he was a lot of fun. More fun than my boyfriend. He was exciting and spontaneous, would do things on the spur of the moment like lets go a ride out in the car. He had a big car. This was quite appealing to me. Life with the snooker player was becoming a bit too predictable. 

There was an overlap by about a month when I went out with both of them. Two timing it was called at the time. It couldn't go on, so I gently let my snooker player go, in the best way you can when you finish with someone. I was 20 and didn't want to be tied down. My snooker player proposed to me in the hope that I would stay with him, but it was too late. 

I chose the new relationship, it was more fun, exciting, crazy almost. He was crazy, a right Jack the lad type. He had an answer for everything, nothing bothered him. We moved in together in another town. I tried to make it work, we got a flat. A short time later I realised I had made a massive error of judgement. He worked a lot, and went out without me. I also got a job, but I was expected to do all the washing and cleaning, and have his dinner ready for him every night. Make endless cups of tea, then he would get dressed up and go out. I mostly went to bed on my own because he was always late back. I felt as if I had failed, but I knew I had to leave. I found a flatshare with a girl and moved out. 

Funny how things turn out, one decision can change everything. I had my life ahead of me, and at 20 I had very little experience of boyfriends. I threw away the love of a kind,  older man, and regret hurting him. If I had accepted his proposal I could have been a grandma by now. 

Karma caught up with me and I in turn was hurt. It served me right. I have no regrets, it's the way I played it. You win some you lose some. 

I hope my snooker player found someone nice to spend his life with. I hope he found happiness with her. I am ok, I hope he is. If he is still around. 

Time to go to bed I think. Toodle pip. Catch up soon.  ilona




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