Tide of Sense

When we arrived at the caravan, he was waiting for a call from Pip. He needed the toilet, and that’s when I saw the messages.I read them, then said I was going for a walk. I went straight to the cliffs, crying.

Betrayed. Disbelief.

The threat……??

J had made to him about me. The comments about her knickers.

The daily ….

Are you OK? with four kisses. And his back.

While he could barely communicate with me.

I was living on scraps and bare minimum.

My whole world shrank into that moment.

I went to the beach and climbed the rocks. Watched the ferries come and go. Watched the sea.

And I stood there, willing myself to jump. Willing myself to die.

But the sun hit my skin. The wind bit around me. And I sat down.

My jeans were ripped from the climb. My body was silent. My mind was calm.Then I saw the faces of my children the sweet little faces of my grandchildren — and I knew I couldn’t do it.

Not when the lies weren’t mine. Not when the cruel jibes weren’t mine. Not when my life didn’t involve gambling, alcohol, or smoking — living off my parents and generally being a bum.

The tide came in, and so did my sense.