I feel I have to share something, maybe you will judge me, but anyway... I am in love with Slav, very - very in love. I have that giddy anticipation when I know I will be seeing him, I love his twinkly smile and his shaven head/beardy slightly hip older guy thing going on, he makes me feel young and girlish and fluttery of heart. The Slav-thing is all very shiny-new and very, very precious to me. Just to clarify, Slav is NOT Gravel-guy, who knew one could find love later in life with such intensity and passion? This has blindsided me and is not something I would ever have expected of myself.
I know it is a bit wrong, but Slav meets needs that Gravel-guy doesn't - and doesn't even care to try and fulfill after such a long marriage (I was figuring this out the other night - 20-something? 20-eleven actually). Slav is my (MY) DPD driver. Now I am aware there is probably a Mrs or Mr Slav out there, maybe some cute little Slav-ettes, I don't care - I don't want that aspect of him. What I get from him more than meets my needs and I am happy to share. If Mrs/Mr Slav has to pick his pubes from the shower I will never know (a task VERY much on my mind at the moment during lockdown), if he stands at the back door chomping his museli in a loud and very irritating way, then that too will forever be a mystery. I love Slav - what he brings to the relationship is stuff, stuff on time and that I want - OK, I have paid for it, but Slav appears and puts it down carefully on the doormat, gives me his adorable Slav-smile and says pleasantries in full sentences and LEAVES. How perfect is that. I know it is a little wrong but Gravel-guy doesn't bring stuff like wine (oh yes) or wool, and as I have mentioned - once Slav has delivered - he goes, how can I labour that point and emphasize how lovely that is? He turns around and goes back to Slav-world. I don't want to sound like all I am doing is perusing Trouva in order to bring Slav close to me, as honestly I am not - the infrequency of Slav-visitations are what keeps the magic so special.
Sighhhhh in contrast, Gravel-guy is very much in residence. Life, and the contents of our house seem to swirl around Gravel-guy in some sort of mysterious orbit - much like comet trails get bent out of shape by the dark forces of black holes and other things I do not quite understand, things happen around Trev. Things seem to be happening to the inanimate within our house that are apparently beyond control, it is all very twilight zone. I bet Slav doesn't have that sort of thing going on in HIS house. The tea jar is now chipped, mugs are chipped, bowls that have been stacked in the cupboard are chipped, utensils are in the drawers but in the wrong place and not quite as clean as I like them... a favourite tea towel has scorch holes in it, and a wine glass has completely disappeared (I know it was left on the bench but now it has gone completely). It all feels a bit smeary and unkempt, there are crumbs, there are swipe marks on the bench, there is jam on cupboard doors... I have seen the way Slav handles my parcels - I KNOW he wouldn't hurl mugs into a cupboard and assume that they can sit in a higgeldy heap without mishap.
I realise I like to have my favourite (comfort) belongings to the fore, my tea bitch mug from the daughter, a bowl I bought on travels that always makes me happy when I have sliced tomatoes into it... but I don't like them chipped by the mark-of-Trev (Gravel-guy). Yes, so much is going horribly pear-shaped in the world and I am worried about a favourite mug getting a little bent or an unidentified sticky bit when I rest my arm on a surface. So do I hide the favourite mug (and still risk it being bashed about in the cupboard) or use it??? I use it. I use it, and sometimes I lose it and get a bit snippy at Gravel-guy and his hamfisted ways. I don't think I could get cross at Slav. In case you wonder, yes Gravel-guy knows. Gravel-guy thinks my (many) declarations of how gorgeous Slav is are just a whim and it isn't serious - but the other day when non-Slav delivered... I was gutted.
Gravel-guy and I are becoming a little jaded with each other and on a bit of a territory battle, Slav doesn't look like he takes up much space - Gravel-guy uses laptop cables and his blue fleece to claim plum position, I retaliate with knitting and stitching projects scattered about. He sighs and ups the stakes by going for his daily run and reappearing with a man-miasma of old-stinky-maleness that leaves me gagging (I have never inhaled Slav - maybe he stands too far away but non stinky males are very attractive to me right now), so I break out the scented diffusers and assorted tubes of hand lotion and bring in a couple of hyacinth that make Gravel-guy sneeze. He appeared in the bedroom the other day with a flatpack desk - by hokey it is a hideous piece of white and wibbly MDF. I know I cannot trump that - BUT it gives me the right to express moral outrage (many of MY belongings are in that lockup in Kirkintilloch, things such as vital recipe books etc... and he has brought in that?) that awful thing is now taking up the place-where-the-ironing-board-goes and if he EVER dares criticise my bringing back a small plant or some slight shopping to his flat in Uxbridge, before squirrelling it back to Glasgow then he is legally toast and has no right of reply or comment. I am very, very not-pleased with Gravel-guy. The white desk was delivered by another delivery company - I KNEW my Slav wouldn't do that to me.
We are pretty much over the relief at seeing the other one currently safe, we are now into the slightly cranky phase of just seeing each other, every day. EVERYwhere.
He has now also noticed I get a bit or erm, postage... but he appears unfazed by Slav in fact he seems almost relieved to share some sort of burden.