We had two great years and then he moved to London, stomach flips every time I saw him even after two years, I genuinely followed for work, shared a house with him and his brothers for a few months , watched him and his girlfriend be utterly besotted.
Moved out as soon as I could, kept in sporadic touch over the years, my effort not his.
In the early years I would have crawled over broken glass to get back to him.
Slowly I found my self worth and got on with it.
I am now married to a wonderful, kind, gentle man we have been together 27 years.
I have a wonderful son.
I have my own home, mortgage free (well 16 months left)
I drive
I have a great social life and group of friends at the club.
He in contrast has no relationship, no home, can not drive, still gambles.
I remember talking to him and saying sorry I need to go, I am collecting some of the other boys to take them to summer training at the club and then we are having a BBQ.
He said oh Fuck I want a piece of that, to which I replied as kindly as I could, you could have had it all with me, but you sneered at my desire to be settled down. He did have the good grace to say fair ennuf.
Fast forward a few years, after sporadic touch and he has a massive stroke just before Christmas, who did he want apart from his immediate family, eh ye............me.
It would appear I am never going to be totally free of him, but thank God I am connected to him from where I am, rather than ending up a transient girlfriend, living from paycheck to paycheck.
God that was long, but cathartic. 