The tolerance and kindness you have shown me has been vastly more than I could possibly have expected or hoped for.
It could end there. The last substantive sentence of the message my ex-partner, ex-housemate, left with his father for me. He got a prison sentence on Thursday. He will be in prison for 12 months, at least; the sentence is twice that.
And now I don’t know what to think, or feel, or do. I know where he is, and I could write to him. I could visit him and be back in my house inside a couple of hours. I want to know what happened. Why, in contrast to many others, commiting similar offences, he got an immediate jail term. Why the court was adjourned for half an hour. What drugs possession they eventually charged him with. I am kicking myself for not going to court.
I am angry with him. So, so angry. That house was supposed to be supportive and stable, for three years or more. Instead, I had to move at a stupidly busy time. He lied about the drugs. I knew there were drugs, yes, but he kept changing the names, admitting and denying their presence. Laughing at my ‘poor memory’.
And the other charges, what they mean, what his pattern of offending means, for our past relationship.
I am hurting. I am hurting because I thought I could trust him to be honest with me, and I couldn’t trust him with this, so can’t with anything now. And everything reminds me of him. I changed the cat tag this weekend; removed his now defunct ‘phone number. She was supposed to be our cat. And how we would have talked about the new Doctor Who. The Taizé pieces on my MP4 player that he recorded for me. Belle and Sebastian. Donovan. So much music. On top of that, there are echoes and footprints everywhere I turn in this city.
I pity him. He is not the kind of person who will readily survive prison. He likes routine sure enough, social scripting, but also challenge and activity. He won’t be able to play piano or program while inside – and won’t have many opportunities when he’s released.
Most of all, I don’t know what to do. To leave, walk away, forget. Or to stay, and wait, and support. I am torn in two. And numb to the pain, but anxious and stressed, and hallucinating, and I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to do.