GET GONE
The Beginning of an End to a Beginning
by Eduardo

   Sat 7th April
   16:00

  Just woke up.  Boy what a night, no sleep until sun up.  E doesn't look very happy, think reality is hitting home and difficult choices are swirling in the mind. So I went off to the garden and some sunshine.

  M, A and the grandchildren arrived and we had a great time in the huge Old Deer Park in Richmond.  Blankets, food, drinks and tea and good company.  Now that is always welcome in times of trouble.  Especially this great couple.  Murat and I spent some time chatting, Angela and Eliza did the same and a lot was said as a joint family outing.   It was cool.  I felt much better afterwards.   I think Eliza at last has a glimpse into the reality of what she has started and I must finish.  Maybe something went down between them when they talked. The night was spent first downstairs in the recliners for a few hours and then in bed for the rest of the night until around six this morning, when we both slept. That's a hell of a lot of talking in between bouts of sex during the night that is.  Even that has a kind of enforced desperation with her.  She says its her hormones, but this is much deeper than that.  More I feel like desperation to keep her man.

 The big shock came when I found out that her intended Mr Rich Dick would be a married Muslim!  His poor wife.  I announced the truth, she listened. So you are going to be part of a love triangle within a triangle?  And be part of the breakup of someone else's marriage as well?  Do you really think that a married man is going to interested in anything else than an affair and a quick bang? What planet are you on?   I always thought, knowing her ideals and morale's that this Mr Rich Dick was going to be single, widowed, divorced or something.  Especially considering the high standards she would require in him.  It hit her like a bolt.  The realisation of what she had believed was now incorrect.  The rest of the night was spent around this theme all about Mr Rich Dick, I call him that as a joke in every conversation and she seems to not mind that.

  We discussed in sensibility for a change about the reality of the impending situation.  I explained how two dicks one pussy was not a fantasy that I could deal with, she explained that her wealth trip was unstoppable.  Its not apparently a fantasy, its her 'karma' to pursue this path.   So that rules out any further arguing against that one. Throughout the restless night we talked about this catch 22.  She must have, its her karma and right she says and I cannot provide it.  That logically must mean I explained that there will be a gap between us.  How big a gap would depend on whether an open marriage could be tolerated.  She cuddled up and repeated many times that she didn't know what to do.  She could lot lose her man yet could not stop her karma.  I reiterated that her mans pockets would never be deep enough to match her karma.  So she must either let go the karma or let go the man.   That's how we left it basically

  18:00
   Oh dear.  Here we go again.  Bucket loads of the same stuff.  Wow she is angry.  Came in to the office shouting loads of stuff about money, I should spend more on her and take her out to posh places not buffets.  I've wasted my time for years piddling around with the internet and no big money yet.  Like I say 50k per year to this woman is pocket money in her 'karma' path. Just as quadruple that amount would be in a very short time. As far as she is concerned we are poverty struck and I am an absolute looser who doesn't spend enough on her. Yeah, thanks for yesterdays £124 hair do darling!! And the trip to Japan you just paid for!!  Well at least

  See what I mean?  How the hell do you deal with someone like that? Any way I just kept repeating for her not to go there again as we have been there before and all that was to be gained from continuing is total destruction with immediate effect.  She left, came back, another barrage of worthlessness and scathing remarks and then yet again.  Seems like the ending will not be as peaceful as I had hoped and must admit I also raised my voice some.  Especially when she gave me yet again how the Buddha has provides for her. 
"Yes Eliza, every time something good comes along in your life, the Buddha gets all the credit, I am never mentioned.  The fact that my material work played a major role has always been discounted." 
   Hardly surprising them that all the mistakes are remembered as my fault and only these mistakes are remembered.  Everything else is provided by her karma and the Buddha.  I too believe in Buddhism but I must also maintain a realistic standpoint as I provide for real people in the material real world. I do not heap all my desires or illusions onto another, I make them happen myself with the absolute best of my ability.  Yes the Buddha will protect and guide me, but I do not expect him to be my sole provider.  That is mine to accomplish in the material world and I must set my goals accordingly and within the bounds of realism.  That's how I see it, and not a bad way to follow I believe.  I may have been a paper millionaire twice before when I was young and fit and had an undamaged brain and worked like ten men.  But not now, not for this lady.  Even what I had then and sometimes it was a lot, would never sustain the present voracious desires of boundless wealth.

 This problem arose as taking Murat's advice that I put a foot down on this Eliza wants Eliza must have urgency and just say there's no more money for all these expensive desires.  So I did during all the talk last night.  Obviously today that part has been remembered and chewed over in the mind.  Hence the look this morning.  Well mate, tried it and don't say I did not tell you so.  The response is about as scathing as expected.  Like I say, you don't challenge this woman, not unless you wish to become a 'baddy' in record time that is.

  Well that was before dinner.  We sat as any family at the kitchen table and ate with small chat.  Liam went upstairs back to his Runescape strategy game and we sat for a while in the front room reading.  Just a goodnight kiss as i come back to the office and write this.  She needs some good sleep after last nights marathon and today's uncertainties of some illusions.

  You really want to know how I feel?  Right now I could stick a pin in myself or jump into icy waters.  Just to prove this is all real and not some far fetched absurdity from an equally far out fiction book.  Though I may not remember exactly what I've written before, I remember the trauma of it all and now find it all so difficult to believe actually happened. Or that what I am thinking now and writing is actually a reality of today and tomorrow.   Oh dear, here comes the sad heart again.  The loss and all that stuff.  So what, there comes a time when if you cant live with them, then live without them you must.

  I have two very clear choices.
1. Push income, to ease her immediate pain and splash out more dinners and such.  Make her feel things are changing, big money is coming, big change my dear.  It will buy me anything from six months to two years until it all starts again.  As it has been repeated before in smaller ways.

2. Push up income to support two homes for the time being and relocate. I might still be her Mr Love and Mr Laugh man, but Mr Strong man I am no longer and Mr Rich man I certainly am not.  Neither do I honestly think I ever will be in this relationship. So rather than throw what new income I make after unworthy causes just to buy time, I will put it my way and start building my future.  A nice simple straight forward one firmly in the land of reality.

  I think the second choice while the most painful to do must be correct.

  So a small farm maybe or old house with outbuildings where new offices can be put and high speed Internet connection installed.  Somewhere within reach of Liam.  Start again and find some badly needed esteem building from some young lady.  Just like old Capt Sarl, some young lady with boundless energy to fuss all over me. Ah, nice.

  You see, if all this was just some recent fantasy, anyone would treat it as oh, time of life and hormones etc.  But no, this has been growing along with many others over many years.  I've pacified its demanding head a few times before and we are old adversaries.  But challenging phantoms is impossible in the real world, let alone reasoning with them. The problem is now that yes, the hormones are a little haywire, hence sex twice a night instead of once a month. (If I was lucky).  But I don't complain about either at this moment. But all that is coupled to a sudden urgency, almost a desperation to accomplish her karma right now, within days and weeks rather than even months. And, don't forget, three weeks chanting in Japan has filled her overflowing with the force to back those imperative desires.  She can no longer abide to be in the company, even remotely of poor people any more.  Or the majority of people which she just sees as takers and abusers and not worthy of her compassion or attention. While there was a chance I could strike it rich, I was never categorised, though now I am falling more and more into that despised category where most are. I have felt the rebuking since after the accident in 94 and over the past two years as her strength from the crippling illness (ME) returns, it has become intensely consistent. 

 Now there lays another un-equality.  Her illness and my accident.  Yes it was traumatic for about six months for her. I could not even move my head let alone anything below it.  Fortunately we had a local neighbour next to our villa who worked as a part time helper for Eliza.  That was my third miraculous escape from death. C4,5 and 6 in the neck are pretty delicate and breaking any one of them is dicey. I did all three and some other stuff.  So according to the Surgeon I was a living miracle who six months later became to everyone's amazement a walking miracle.  Yes they certainly admired me in Portugal, I was the amazing miracle man.  There were staff to take care of for at least five weeks while I was recovering. Even when I returned to the office I could no longer bend and scrutinised projects so, with the main worker out of the equation the business income fell beneath sustainability and we closed down the business, which at one time was the prima one in Portugal.
My place was back home in the UK.  My global trotting days were over for now and I desperately needed to find new direction and purpose in my life and for my young family.  The Uk would provide that stability and care needed while I regrouped and found that new direction.  As usual though my needs or wishes were dismissed by a sudden enlightenment from Eliza that she had always wanted to go to Morocco and felt there was a calling there for her, some destiny to achieve and she must go.  Cant explain how I felt right there at that moment.  It was bad enough leaving this placid environment of sunshine and fun, the villa and pools.  Those evening dinners served on warm verandas under the dancing stars and breakfast on a terrace watching the distant glistening sea.  But to go to Morocco!!!  Out of the blue just like that all plans are changed all destinies are eliminated a new direction has called.  An old fantasy must be materialised.

  So she finds this really nice little guy in the Portuguese Consulates (Eliza's duel nationality), cant remember his name right now, but he was what in the old days you would call a 'likeable spiv'.  He was into Morocco in a big way, well in his dreams and of course you can well imagine what happens when one person with a huge fantasy meets another with an even bigger one.  And, both the fantasy's merge onto the same country, Morocco of course.  Well, this chap almost wet himself as by then I had no option but to go along and play the important role of believer yet cautious protector.  So there he is confronted by the ex prima one's  One of whom shares fantasy's on apar with his own and her powerful conviction, while the other, a scientist working on some revolutionary new energy technology that can save the world billions.  Along with their sidekick scientist Tom, who while disheveled and dirty looking was probably one of the most brilliant minds I have had the pleasure of engaging.  Until the drink blotted his mind and the cancer took his body. 
Much to Eliza's disgust, we saw him through to the end.  She always despised his dirtiness and lack of posture and I must admit it could be affronting, but he never deserved the endless rebuking's she gave him.  But still he stayed, coming most days walking five miles from Hounslow to Hampton to our dingy garage done out as an office in the garden.  He smoked like a chimney and I puff quite a few, so you can imagine the blue air state of things until one of us would just have to open the door.  As I write this I am laughing as I remember it all.  There he would sit all day putting information into a website and downloading music which he stored on an ever increasing pile of burnt cd's for his portable player.  But Eliza was repelled by the sight of the man, yet like me, unable out of compassion to leave him to rot on his own. Though his bright scientific brain was no more, his ability to be a trusted friend and good co-worker stayed until the end.  Poor guy, he worshipped the ground Eliza walked on and yet she cursed him.

  Anyway, this Portuguese chappy who is now planning really big things like getting us and all our scientific equipment off to Morocco working on some Royal project of huge importance.  Gosh this could be bigger than....  Well gosh massive.  This guy knew everyone from contacts inn the Palace to border guards.  But then in Morocco if you know names and a few facts, with a couple of useful phone numbers for those tight times, you can bluff through most of the red tape and officialdom.  Offers of living in huge villas and specially built laboratories so we could finish this project for the benefit of the King and the country of Morocco.  We would bring new technology solar energy to the deserts an out reaching areas with gushing water and colour tv.  We would revolutionise the energy industry with a Moroccan innovation!

  The fantasy took on form on a daily basis growing like nothing I've seen before.  It was intense.  The documentation's, the forms, the visas, the special 'green light' authorities to get all this highly suspicious looking equipment into and through Morocco.  I drove there with, oh I remember his name, Sebastian, from Portugal to Tangiers and then after some delay a few frantic phone calls, onto Casablanca where our new future working on this Royal consented project would be enjoyable and our every wants pandered too.  They say when something seems too good to be true it is.  Well I saw this fantasy falling apart very quickly and am absolutely amazed at the fact that it lasted for a whole year.

  By now, even Tom had been swept up in all the grandeur of it all, he let himself go on the fantasy, it was that all consuming.  Toms mind was normally the most logical and ordered you could find and to see him enveloped by this enormous fantasy full of illusions was truly amazing.  So that's where we spent a year while I went along with it all and tried to produce something out of it all. We may not have been adorned with all those fantasia promises and sometimes lived in fear and entrapment, but one thing we did obtain as a reality were the prized plaques for the Best Invention of the Year award from the world press and two other awards from the world science and invention exhibition held in Morocco that year.  They hang proudly remembered on our wall.  For me they are a reminder that sometimes fantasy's can produce material reality, they also remind me that I have at least done more than most in making at least some of Eliza's fantasy's materialise.  It was certainly one of the most bizarre trips I have ever embarked upon or care to again.  There was a time when the maid reported us for trying to convert her to Buddhism and that Eliza spent three hours or more a day chanting.  We were summoned to the police station and were very nearly arrested and God knows what else.  But they let us go and yet we still continued going to meetings with other Buddhists in Casablanca at every opportunity.  It was dicey stuff I can tell you.  There where many times when I felt unable to protect us in the material sense, though I do believe the Buddha did protect us a lot in this very uncertain country.

  We eventually escaped and I mean, escaped literally. Every attempt to leave was fraught with official blocks somewhere along the chain.  They even made a very botched attempt to kidnap Liam to ensure we stayed.  Fortunately by own guardian angel protected me with the realisation of what was happening and I managed to not only thwart it, but make it appear I was unaware.  As any other sign could have been disastrous.  Phew, that day I will never forget, it was really heavy.  The adrenalin fear surge rush was intense. and prolonged as the very delicate situation was diffused.  Later we even contemplated joining as we called them the 'black bag brigade' who criss cross the mountains between the Moroccan Spanish border, carrying black plastic bags full of contraband.  We could pay one a few dollars and tag along into the safety of Ceuta and seek protection in the Spanish Embassy.  Well, that was the worst event scenario anyway.  As it was I devised a more rational plan that entailed first getting Eliza and Liam out of the country on the pretence of her sick mother and then Tom and I secretly following a week later.  This all entailed utilising the local official holidays and the list of contact numbers I had which went as high as the Kings inner domain. Meanwhile I accumulated a few thousand to give the financial buffer we were going to need.  Eliza duly escaped with a few grand and Liam and arrived safely in London and set up a small hotel in Richmond where for some reason she reckoned was the next place destined for her. A week later on the official holiday Tom books his ticket from one place while I book the same flight from another for a flight four hours later that day.  He went through with no problems at all and straight onto the plane.  The skeleton staff hardly bated an eyelid as his passport was stamped.  Me of course big problema.  Lots of enquiries and document examination I am not allowed to pass. The senior is summoned and more Moroccan to English translation ensues. They make a phone call, I threaten to start making phone calls and tell this senior dude in no uncertain terms that I am protected by the Kings office itself and unless he wishes to explain to this person I am pointing to on my mobile, he had better shut up and stop causing my displeasure.  I even added the classic "Look at your uniform your a disgrace!  Tidy yourself up man and then polite wishes for the holiday and how lucky he was that I am such a benevolent person.  I can tell you, when you are corned and left with no option even the bluff itself is scary.  I had nothing to loose so I gave it everything I had and my power of authority won the day, even if it was a huge bluff.

  At the last minute he saluted me and my passage was immediate, they even forgot to stamp the passport.  I was VIP.  When I joined Tom on the plane he told me that they had delayed the plane on orders from the guy I had tangled with and the first he knew that I was coming was when he saw a chap bringing out my suitcase to put on the plane.  Neither of us felt any safety until we touched down in Gibraltar and not fully until Heathrow.

  So you may see what I mean when I have said about being on Eliza's fantasies before.  Was it fun? Some parts were.  Would I do it again?  Not on your nelly.

  That was all in late 97 and its taken the last ten years to arrive at where we are now, which would be envied by many.  Considering we arrived back with Liam whose  special needs were clearly showing,  Eliza on the verge of collapse into the ME sickness,  Me absolutely shattered and drained from it all, the clothes we stood up in and about £4k as our entire fortune.  I personally think I've done very well by her. Since the day we arrived back I arranged everything to ensure my families highest comfort and quality of life.  From a town house in a lovely suburban area to a semi in one of the most expensive roads in Hampton.  To an even more expensive area in Kew in a house that has been virtually rebuilt and well furnished.  Oh course while achieving all that, I had my own abilities to deal with and the constant 24/7 pain, five years of being virtually a one parent family caring for a sick and bed bound most of the time person who is not nice to anybody and a child whose special needs require constant trips to the school and weekly meetings.  At that time he had no concept of danger or methods of communication that were acceptable.  They both needed minding 24/7 and so did I, but unfortunately there was no one except the other last resort part of me again. If it had not been for Tom who Eliza despised so much, there would be no me now. I wanted to drive the car over the car park edge, five floors up.   That was a very heavy trip and took some good medication to help me through.  So when Eliza told me angrily today how the debts were paid by her caring for me and I her, I felt very much the looser in that statement.  But that is the problem, virtually every statement Eliza makes entails someone being the looser or unworthy one.  There's no putting up, just constant putting down.

  But as always, I bounced back and carried on providing the needs and glad I did.  But now I obviously look and think how it was all so worthless.  Chasing these illusions that only materialise the way you imagine in fairy tales. Providing a comfortable environment for us to all live in which is only second best to the illusion still maintained. The holiday in Goa and journey around India, the marina in Tunisia and luxury hotel, the exotic food on the holiday in Kenya, the stay in Moscow when Liam and I built a snowman outside our window in the Hilton, the Tenerife resort, the three trips to Japan, the timeshare apartment, the unusual places like Romania and the remote lighthouse we booked once for Christmas. Many journeys across the channel to France, Spain and even Amsterdam in the Chevy. Oh course a whole multitude of one or two day outings in the Chevy to remote beaches, the moors, the woods and even Stonehenge where I made another of her dreams come true.  I parked up the Chevy in a lane near the stones and we all crept through the hedge and trod through the muddy puddles and sheep's droppings in the dead of night.  The weather was atrocious, driving rain and sleet.  But dance around the stones and touch then had always been a fantasy and that was one I did manage to bring true in completeness and fully to her satisfaction.

  There have been many other journeys and ideas of fantasy and even some real ones, that I have waltzed through life with Eliza on.  Some I may disclose later in future pages.  Its now past midnight and definitely time for bed, especially after an all night yesterday.  Tomorrow is another day.  Eliza has a Buddhist meeting in London tomorrow and I suggested it would be a good idea to take the train instead of me taking her.  Not because I did not want to, but felt it would be good for her to get used to independent travel now as she planned a lot more of it in the future. This seemed to be received well and the house feels peaceful tonight.  Tomorrow is another day.

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