I’m currently sat on the train with Dexter, about to drop him off to his Dads for a five day ‘holiday.’ It’ll be a quick drive by, wherein I literally drop him off to my ex at Stratford and I will carry on my journey towards London.
It’s heartbreaking. I know it’s early days, and I don’t know how other single parents cope, but I am really struggling.
Dexter’s playing on my phone and on the surface, seems quite nonchalant … constantly asking for food and playing Angry Birds – all quite normal. But I know he feels the pain too. He feels torn between leaving me and wanting to see his Dad – and no doubt, it’s the same when he’s not with me. He feels guilty for wanting to be with the other parent, even though both of us assure him that it’s ok, that he doesn’t need to feel like that.
He’s only eight years old.
It’s just a crappy situation all round. His Dad lives in London – I live in Kent.
It’s a new situation for all of us and we are going to have to learn to deal with it.
I try to make Dexter’s time away from me sound exciting to him. I tell him about all the things his Dad will do with him, the family he’ll see, the places he’ll go, the fact that he can go and see Avengers Assemble for the fifth time. I’ll keep myself busy and I’m beginning to get a social life back on track but this isn’t what I signed up for. I was meant to be part of a family.
Dexter and I are now in floods of tears, mine hidden from him and the world – and it’ll only be fleeting and to look at me you’d never know.
I smile, I have fun. Hell, I’m the life and soul right?
Jesus … it hurts.
PS: Normal service will be resumed by the time you read this!