Signal to Noise.

Things continue to move on for me. I am no longer having to be so careful about what music I listen to. Yes, for a time I had to be quite selective for fear of being overwhelmed by a huge wave of nostalgia and regret.

Losing the preoccupation with the very bad memories has opened up the pathway to some good memories again. We WERE good together for a time. We laughed at the same things and there was a lot of laughter. We were both intelligent (obviously I was slightly more intelligent!) so intellectually we had some good bonds. We were both good communicators. With one caveat. There was one area where we just couldn’t communicate or talk at all. We made noise, between us we made a lot of noise, but there was absolutely no communication going on. Maybe we both learnt a little bit from that for the future. But at that time, in that place, the signal to noise ratio was all wrong.In both receive and transmit.

I went through a phase when I told myself I wish I’d never met her. I could so easily not have done. There were a lot of sliding doors in quick succession and a different path at any of them would have led to me not meeting her; at least not meeting in any significant way. Do I still wish that? I really don’t think I do. I wish some things had not happened but that’s not the same thing is it? She was part of a process that led me to where I am today and, despite the illness, where I am today is quite a good place. I also learnt things from being with her that prepared me to get to this place. There were some very good memories from the good period of being together. Would I want to lose those memories in order to also wipe out some distorted bad ones? I don’t think so any more.

There are currently a lot more what ifs that I’m having to process. Process is the wrong word really. What ifs are not really helpful at all. Yet they keep coming and smacking me round the back of the head when I’m off guard. Is there a set of what ifs that would have kept us together? Possibly but it is quite a convoluted set. That set of what ifs would lead to a situation where my beautiful and clever daughter wouldn’t be around and that’s not one I’m happy with. There is a subtle shift though. The what ifs I have now are less about things she might have done differently but more about how I could have reacted differently. Clearly I had more control over that. In some ways that is harder to deal with.

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