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

  Wednesday.

   The reality of Wednesday dawned with the ringing off my mobile at around nine. I could not be bothered, so turning over I smuggled under the covers once more.  It had been a long night and an even longer morning and I was not ready to face the world, not just yet anyway with only three hours sleep.
But the phone just kept persistently buzzing to remind me of my lost call, then ring ring of it goes again, I get out of bed sitting on the edge, rubbing tired eyes.  I was obviously not in the best of moods and feeling rather furious as I had a sneaking suspicion of whom it might be.
"Good morning Eduardo" Came the shaky feeble voice on the other end. "Listen, I have a problem. I have mislaid my check book and credit card and cannot find my PIN number, and I have no money."
"Yeah, yeah. I need to go out soon so I will pop by just for a minute. " I replied snapping the phone shut and putting it back on top of the dresser. Sitting back on the bed and rubbing my tired eyes, I stretched and reached down for my socks and things.  Just then I realised I had just replied to a recorded message on the answer phone!
Coming downstairs and putting the kettle on in a muddle of thought, getting rather annoyed at how even in separation this confounded woman is still creating problems in my life.  I sat and drank my tea, not bothering with a cigarette.  Thinking, getting more and more angry as I thought.   This woman goes around telling everyone about the trauma I have put her through with the poverty, the breadline existence.  No money, never being able to go here never no money to buy that there.  It went on and on and on and for years its done so.  For years people have said to me 'Oh your Eliza she's always looking for more isn't she?'   Well she got her more and left all this behind.  Her and her insane wealth karma.  Needing the extra zeros, needing the first class here or the prima Donna there.
Yet when things are not right and she needs a few bob?  This man who kept her in such poverty and destitution for all these sixteen years.   She soon phones him up with.
"Oh can I have fifty quid?"
This poverty struck man who kept her in such squalor.  Pays for her flat and gives three hundred a week and still gets the phone calls and hassle.   "Oh I got this I want that"
No more I thought, no more.  I finished my tea and washed up the cup and grabbing my keys from the drawer, I went out to the Rover, feeling really upset about the whole thing.
I had been awoken into a bad mood and it was not getting better.

   On the way out the postman happens to be delivering and one of the letters is for Eliza. I look at it and realise its from the building society which she had my name removed from, our little savings account.   It couldn't have arrived at a worse time as I looked down at this envelope and thought. Who is the mug?
Here I am getting in my car to go down to give this woman some money because she cant find her pin number, she cant find this or that.  Yet here we are, the other savings account that I gave her with whatever in it.  She can walk in any time and draw out money any time she needs, she's got over ten grand in the other bank and yet Mr Poverty man is soon Mr Rich man when she wants something.  So you can guess by the time I rang the bell on her apartment I was seething.  Angry at her audacity and my stupidity.
She opened the door looking really knackered.  Standing there in her bed shirt, I could see the bones starting to show as the weight continues to diminish, despite eating.
My mood overcame any pity towards her and I barged past her into the lounge and threw the building society letter on the table.
"There.  That's from your Mr poverty man."   I spat out, throwing the fifty quid on top of the letter.   "And."   I continued.   "If you wanted some money why didn't go get some out of this account?"   Jabbing an angry finger at the letter.
She just stood there unable to answer and I gave her no time for thought as I continued.
"And. In future my dear. When you need something or have a problem. Don't bother Mr poverty man, you know?  That man that's caused you so much grief and never done anything for you!"
"Don't call him again!"   I finalised.
I turned and paced back towards the still open flat door. As I exited and turned, she stood there at the entrance, arms down and looking defeated with reality. Then looking up she says.
"Cant you see I'm going through a bad depression?"   she bubbled. "Cant you see I'm not well?"
I've had all that before, its her last resort.  When things don't go her way and illusions lay in tatters, its always the not well trip.   Oh, there is no doubt she is really unwell.  Just like a child will cry and cry for something they cannot have until they become physically sick, that's what happens with Eliza when disappointment happens.  She becomes very unwell in reality.
No more. I just looked back at her in compassion but with a heart of stone.
"Look."  I said in quieter tones. You've gone around for years telling people how I've subjected you to a life of horrendous poverty, to this imprisonment and lack of success. You've said it to me countless times. Well, there's your money."   Stretching out a hand towards the table direction. "You've got money in the bank. I'm pissing off. You piss off.  You made your bed and you damn well lay on it and don't bother me every time a spring hurts. The reason your in this state is because you got nothing left. You just chucked away everything real you had in your obsession for money and you've still got the same obsession.  I've nothing more to say to you so Goodbye."
As I walked to the lift door I could hear her in the background.
"Please Eduardo, please, cant you have compassion for me?"
I chose not to hear her voice any more and as I descended in the lift. I had the realisation as my rage ebbed, that I never wanted to hear her voice again.  I never wanted to see her again, I never wanted to be in the same room with her again.  That's the decision I came too as the lift door opened and I walked through the gated entrance to the rover and a future free of her karma.
I drove out and on the way home the mobile goes twice, I was driving so I couldn't answer it anyway.  I knew who it would be before flipping the lid to check. Yes, it was Eliza.  By the time I arrived home the phone is going again, but I just let it ring and ring and carried on making a nice cup of coffee and trying to calm myself down from the days start.
I sat deep in thought supping at the hot caffeine.  Of how this was certainly the breaking of my last bond with this woman's karmic tomorrows.   She has a nice apartment, she has money, she has a doctor and I have peace at last.
I flipped open the mobile and looked at the 901 message and pressed to hear it.
She cant understand why I am all upset and why I don't have compassion for her. Why I don't this and why I don't that.  I just deleted the message, its the same old one I've heard before only this time with more tears.
If it was not for Liam, I would simply barr the number, but I cannot do that as its not in best interest taking him into consideration.  I must try and help him maintain a bond with his mum.
But this compassion thing?  Yes. It was compassion that guided her to the doctors for the help she needs.  It was compassion that I went there today to take money.  But compassion does not mean I should allow myself to be used and abused for the sake of others.  If she wants someone to feel sorry for her, then let her talk to those that helped her along this mis guided path instead of applying the brakes as true friends would have done.  They will sympathise and shower her with compassion, they always have in the past while encouraging.
   We all become very angry and defensive when others cram our mistakes down our throat, let alone playing the same record virtually daily for sixteen years.  And then she would smooth it all away with us being soul mates and that crap.  Compassion is very hard to maintain towards someone like that, yet I still retain those basic feelings of compassion towards her and others.  But certainly no pity.  She has had years of considering her present path, its the one she was on when we met.  Though this trauma she's heaped upon herself may cause her mental instability, she was completely lucid the many times we discussed her options in the past.  She was not sick or crazy then.  Obsessed, completely off the rails and flying without wings maybe, but that's normality for Eliza.  There was ample consideration to the effects of both her success and failure, I ensured that much. Therefore, she can never turn around and say she was blind at the time or under some psychotic illusion or special needs or anything else she may yet utilise.  They may be some of many effects yet to come from her causes, but they were not the cause of those effects.
She went into all this with eyes wide open as to what she was sacrificing for her light fantastic voyage to the stars. She will soon have the professional help she needs and all will start coming back to reality in her life I sincerely hope.  When that time comes, maybe we can be friends again, it depends on whether I become a huge devil in her eyes or not between now and then, I mean come on, she's already sending me texts about putting spells on her.   Either way, she is the responsibility of those with whom she associates with from now on,  I only wish her well and hope someone out there will be able to ease her future sadness of loss.  Maybe she will meet a rich psychiatrist, her fantasy's and illusions could keep his interest for years.  My life will be totally elsewhere long before then.  In fact it already is.

  Getting my mind back onto work again, I went off to the lodge and started writing.
Angela phone me, concerned about mum and we talked for a while about her.  I told her that I had managed to help her get seen by the doctor and hopefully they would sort things out, and we agreed that what she needed most was some professional counseling.  We spoke about other things and I think Angela fully understands now that Eliza and I will never be together again.  I could never cope with the stress from it.  Though hopefully in the summer we could all get together as a family again for a beach picnic or something as the kids would so enjoy that.
The rest of the day went smoothly and I have started looking forwards to an evening, night and morning of pleasure. Jina is coming over to cook me a nice meal and then, if the flag is down, a night of passion.   With champagne and salmon for breakfast before a repeat session.

  Aha, I here the doorbell, so away I must go to the delights that will later await me. I shall tell all tomorrow, promise.

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