Today’s date, 30th April is one that it permanently etched on my memory. There are quite a few dates like this, memorable for different reasons. 30th April is not a happy date for me. It’s the day I started dating (we called it ‘going out with’ in my day) my first real love.
“But that’s a happy memory, surely?” I hear you say. It was, for a while. It was our ‘anniversary’, an occasion to celebrate. A chance to look back on the past year and reminisce about the good times we’d had.
Only, as the years went on, the good times became fewer and fewer. There was no celebrating. The 30th April rolled around and getting to the next one became a test of endurance rather than something to look forward to. I felt like marking it off on a hidden spot on the wall, like an incarcerated prisoner in a movie.
Because that’s exactly how I felt; trapped. Locked up, hidden away. It was no life for a young girl, who watched on sadly as her friends grew their wings and flew their nests, off to university and new lives, new loves. It’s a long, painful and difficult story to tell, and I do want to tell it someday.
But, for now, I’ll try to get on with it. I am angry that, even now, almost 20 years later, I can’t forget today’s date and the others that played a part in that chapter of my life. The next one is 10th October. Perhaps I’ll be able to tell the whole story then. I need some closure.