You wanna talk about nervous breakdowns? I absolutely lost it on the street a few moments ago...

Nobody paid attention to a nearly sixty year old man bursting out into tears on the street... as if that happens often...

Did I mention I had a difficult morning?

You'd better believe it. And then some.

I was more than embarassed, but it happened to be a very emotional morning.

I got woken after being up half the night. And am always the fucking Grinch if I haven't slept enough.

It being Saturday, I had to get enough groceries to last till Monday, and I fucking HATE that.... You'd think I would have learned to be used to it by now, but no, I HATE it.

Monday I have to see a doctor and be your absoloute emotional wreck so that I can retire on a pittance. Was working on it. Except I didn't need to.... Outside circumstances can be stressful to the point of you nearly losing it. (Your composure)

Yeah, there have been people who have designated me a 'drama Queen' and so forth and so on.... Can I help it if I take things to heart? I'd rather be emphatic than some very cold somenabitch.

But that isn't what it was about, Preciousses. You KNOW the rules.... Boys don't cry. Which has created a huge identity problem the past few days. I do not.... except every ten years when everything gets so overwhelming that I break down. He has a date with some Caritas person. It didn't 'bother' me one way or the other, actually.

Today he told me why. He doesn't know what is in or out any more. And wants to go into a home. He has NEVER told me what he was planning to do ahead of time. It was always a fait accompli, and swallow the fucking toad.

On the one hand, I was so relieved. So relieved.....

I SO wanted to have him do that, as pitiful as it is. I am so glad he at least recognises he needs help around the clock, and so mortified that he fucked it all up again.

But on his own this time.

I was so afraid of hurting him. The leaking plumbing, because he couldn't get to the wc fast enough. The smell.

If we go back 32 years... that was the most fastidious person I have EVER met. I was the one who was sorta sloppy, and not that meticulous, and I fell the fuck in-love.

Was lucky. 'In-love' normally lasts a few months. It lasted a couple of decades with me, and yes, there come some crashes, breaches of trust, and so on... people become ill, and that is the test, and you are there for them. And you hold them, and be there for them. Peter never left me one day alone when I was ill and in hospital. He was always there for me. And I never left his side since his stroke. It is what you fucking do.

And those were the things that counted.

The rest is pretty petty, whatever anyone may think....

And yes, we can be petty when we do not get our way, or obstacles seem to be so great that we think we can't overcome them...

But we always did. Till now.

When you realise you can not do it any more.

And THAT is fucking devastiting.

So I fucking cried, ok?

Thirty-two damned years. Sometimes funny, so funny that it hurt to try to stop laughing, sometimes very hurtful, although I do not think it was intentional.

Thirty-two years is a long time. And no, will not leave him alone. Ever. He's my life-partner.

This morning I learned that a former colleague lost her son. He was very sick from birth on. His grandfather is still shaken.

And then Peter''s 'revelation'.

And all this sadness made me cry in public. Anyone want to sign me up to the Mayo Clinic? Yeah, right.... You just gotta get through all the crap.