The Final Straw

19592_950860048272154_4818401417558252622_nHow have you used this phrase ‘that was the FINAL straw’, I have and I can remember several times in my life when I used them on what are now insignificant others. There comes a time when just one insignificant event tips the balance of our emotions and that final straw that broke the camels back comes into play. In my case I involved my two ex wives and even though I’m not totally sure why, I think I’ll share what were very private experiences. The first “Final Straw” took hold with my wife of 30 years, we met in Hull England I was 23 she was 40, she had 6 kids and now I can see what she wanted help bring up her kids. OK no problem and I’m not saying I’m 100% correct but that’s what it appears to be, looking back, and as she will no longer talk to me I’ll probably never know her side of the story (but frankly I don’t need to know).

Going through 30 years of married life, bringing up what turned out to be 6, latterly 5 quite ungrateful kids is not only quite boring but serves no purpose (does anything serve a purpose)? So to cut to the quick. I’d just paid for the holiday from hell for her and several of ‘her’ children and grandchildren. She (they) wanted to move and live in Dallas?

Dallas! probably the last place on earth I would have picked but nevertheless I went along with it. (I’ve learned eventually not to just go along with stuff). So the ‘family’ (and I use that description in the broadest sense) went back to the UK just prior to Xmas 2003 and after leasing and furnishing an apartment in Dallas we followed on.

So here we were sat at DFW airport waiting for our 10 hour flight to the UK. She was hungry and wanted to eat, no problem what would you like? A salad! Fine there’s a counter there for salads I think I’ll get a burger. So off we went for our food. We meet at the table she has a look of thunder on her face (I should have learned by then not to respond to those looks of thunder, they are perfectly choreographed to invite a response). However I asked what was wrong? “That black guy serving me didn’t wear plastic gloves when he served my salad”? So Ok take it back. A big look of thunder! Then I finally lost it, after almost 2 weeks of spoilt, whiney, unappreciative kids, I lost it. “So what do you want me to do now feed you”?

OK the whole salad french dressing the lot gets thrown over my head. (This is in the departure lounge in DFW about 45 minutes before boarding the plane).That what on the face of it was just another ‘brick in the wall’ became the final straw. I eventually got on the plane asked for a different seat and the rest is history. 30 years down the drain, she got a lot of my money, so what! But I can never replace those 30 years (only one good thing came from those 30 years, my daughter Bobbin).

So there I am in the UK trying to come to terms with this new situation. We had signed a 6 month lease and furnished an apartment in Dallas. So I pose the obvious question. “Well we have signed a lease and its a 2 bedroom apartment, clearly we don’t want to be together but I will go back in the new year and you can too, you have your own bedroom and after 6 months we can go our separate ways”. I’m not going back she says! Aha so now I’m going back to Dallas were I know no-one (except her son and daughter in law) and need to start my business. Just a tad bit daunting but I do it.

Weeks are going by I’m becoming a recluse living in the apartment and going out to buy food and nothing else. Working ’til the early hours (nothing changes)setting up my new business. I know I need to get out and start mixing then one morning around 5am (yes still hard at it) a message pops up on the screen “Do you want to make new friends“? Well hell of course I do, so I sign up for Yahoo Personals and so now started the next 10 years of my living hell.But first of all I dated a few women, nice looking, but not for me. But then I’m contacted by “Castle Dweller” she describes herself as sassy and “not needy” Oh how wrong that last remark turned out to be! She was in “Education”, great I thought a teacher, sensible, secure and maybe even sexy haha. WRONG!

She turned out to be the most screwed up person you could ever meet and to this day I’ve never figured her out (but guess what, frankly my dear I don’t give a damn). However we “got together” I paid off the lease on my apartment… $s again, and moved into her wreck of a house. I could write a book about the next 10 years but believe me it was hell, sex drugs and rocknroll. I gave her everything and I mean everything, and in the end even that wasn’t enough. Did she have some baggage, wow you can say that again. An abused childhood, abusive previous husbands, her last she described as a sex addict, her first was a drug addict. But nevertheless her “Mother Theresa” persona got her by, and in time with my PR skills I made her famous.

She met politicians, and people of what she may believe, were of a much more influential circle (but how wrong she is). We move to a new house 20th December 2014 she tries everything to provoke an argument (she was good at that) but I didn’t take the bait, finally she disappears, not a word of where she was going but I get a text after several days “I’ve decided to make the separation permanent”.

What an absolute cow! She didn’t even want to talk about it, she say’s she was with her dad, perhaps she was, but as far as I was concerned this was the final straw (and she knew it would be). She had already talked me into signing a ‘Post-Marital Agreement’ which effectively gave her everything except the dogs (Tasha and Munchie could never be replaced). She got a fortune, I got nothing. She even avoided giving me back my personal stuff (clothing, collectibles etc). I got an apartment on the side of Eagle Mountain Lake and started to enjoy life. Well I was 63 and it was about time for me to start (or at least try). I ended up returning to the UK something I said I’d never do. I couldn’t survive in the US (or so I thought) so I gave her my dogs (I was gutted) with promises that she would keep me in touch with them (but not a word in 2 years).IMG_2761

I get back to the UK broke financially and emotionally and I have a complete breakdown. I end up in a psychiatric hospital and get a great psychiatrist (Dr Nirvani) who sorts me out. But the UK isn’t for me I need a warm climate and for the first time in my life, my life is my own (Sarah my daughter is almost 40 and the family are all doing well so now its time for John (the Crazy Brit) as my Texan ex-wife used to call me??lennonselfportrait

Now the Crazy Brit has come to Gozo. I arrived at the end of April 2016 and have started a new business with nothing, zero, zilch! I’ve met some wonderful people, but I keep my distance ‘cos John has decided that he won’t take any more shit and just wants a life of peace and harmony and at 65 I ain’t giving that up for anybody

ttfn .. x Namaste..

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