Henry's Diary: 7th June 2008

 

Saturday 7th June

It's just after 5 am and I haven't slept at all – neither do I expect to. After Mum went up to bed, I sat for a while, downstairs, just thinking about Clare, my brain working overtime. About three hours ago, I thought I should at least try to get some sleep, and I came up here to the spare room.  Lying on the duvet was that silly pair of fleecy teddy-bear pyjamas I bought for Clare as a jokey extra birthday present last month.  A painful reminder that she wasn't here.  This is the first time we've been apart since our wedding, and it hurts so much that it's almost unbearable.  Of course, it wouldn't be nearly so awful if I only knew why.

I lay down on top of the bed, not bothering to undress, and stayed there, hugging the pyjamas to my chest. They still smell of my beautiful girl, my lovely Clare-Bear. My special name for her was the very reason I bought the pyjamas in the first place.

My mind was going over all the possible reasons why she chose to go home with Sophie today. Today was such a shock to the system. But I have to stop worrying.

I arrived home at around midday, and went straight upstairs. When I saw the bedroom door open I realised that Clare had got up, and I expected to find her downstairs, but that was when I found the note she'd left. I wasn't too bothered, except that she'd seemed a little upset this morning, so there was a niggle of concern.  I didn't start to worry properly until two hours later, so I tried her mobile. Sophie answered it, which was confusing, to say the least.  She was vague.  All she said was that Clare was upset about something, but that it wasn't my fault and please don't worry. Then she said Clare was going back with her and she'd be in touch soon. Then she hung up.

Well, I didn't know what to think.  I trust Sophie.  She's always been a good friend, and an ally to me.   And, of course, she's Clare's oldest and best friend.   But I thought, these days, that Clare's best friend was me,  so I'm feeling pretty hurt that Clare couldn't talk to me about whatever it is that's worrying her.   What I don't understand is why Sophie insisted it wasn't my fault;  that part is really baffling me.   But... when it comes to the emotions of women, I suppose I'm still a little inexperienced.   Clare was my first and is my only love.   I thought I understood her pretty well, but obviously, I was wrong.

I suppose some men would have demanded that Clare came home, or insisted on at least going to talk to her. Maybe I should have been more assertive and done that.   But Clare wouldn't like that.   Sophie gave me her home number, and several times I was on the verge of ringing her to check how Clare is; maybe even to speak to Clare.  Will Clare think that I don't care about her, because I haven't?   To be perfectly honest, I was scared.  It seems I'm still not as secure in this relationship as I'd like to be.   Funny... I've only just realised that.   Clare hasn't given me any reason to doubt her, though.   Not until today. 

I've been looking back on the last few weeks, trying to remember if there were any signs that something like this was coming, but I honestly can't think of anything.   Except for those headaches she's been having.   Could have been a sign of stress or worry, I suppose.   But Clare was happy, I'm sure of it.   We were happy. Just last night we had been talking about the baby.   Our baby. Clare had told me in the morning that she was three weeks late, and we were going to get a pregnancy testing kit today, so that we could find out for certain.   We were really excited about it.   She'd been late before, of course, and her periods have been a bit irregular recently, which is why she'd waited so long to tell me. I bought the kit today, when I was out, anyway.   I thought I'd surprise her with it this afternoon.   She surprised me, instead.

I was thinking of going down to make a cup of tea, a while ago, but Mum's a light sleeper, and she was very tired after her trip, so I stayed up here instead.   I think Mum was a little put out at first, that Clare wasn't here with me, to welcome her home, but I made some excuse about Sophie turning up out of the blue and asking Clare to spend the night, and she didn't make a big thing of it.   She's always really liked Clare, and she and Mum hit it off from their first meeting.    I think Mum was relieved, more than anything, when I first took Clare to meet her.   I'm sure she thought I must be gay, and that she'd never be a grandma!

Well, I am writing a lot, aren't I?   I spotted a box on top of the wardrobe and in it was a pile of the old diaries I'd been keeping since I was fourteen. They were among the few things I'd left for Mum to look after when I left for New Mexico.   I started reading through them, and it was interesting to see how many things I'd forgotten.   Some of the things I've been reading made me laugh. An awful lot of them made me cringe.   A few made me sad. What a lonely boy I was, though I never, ever said so.   The diary which made me smile the most was the one I'm now writing in – from 2005.   The last entry (before this one) was at the end of November, just before THAT night.   After that, I suppose I didn't really feel the need to keep a diary.

This is helping; writing this now.   Maybe if I write things down, it'll stop those maddening thoughts from rushing around in my head.   I even feel a little sleepy now.   I should  try and have forty winks.

I wish I didn't feel so helpless.   Perhaps I should go to Sophie's place tomorrow, after all, and see Clare myself... find out what all this is about.

The End

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