Barely above zero

It's scarcely above zero outside. Snow fell yesterday and I saw it alongside the traintrack as I made my way sadly and distraughtly from Bent's apartment this morning. My heart is so chilled by the icy blast I experienced this morning from Gerard. I was happy to spend time with him. I was even falling in love with him and he said he had loved me very quickly and deeply and I was perfect for him, that he had never been so happy in his life. He certainly seemed genuine. We had spent several days together, he had given me a bracelet of his mother's and we were to spend a week in Marrakesh during my Christmas holidays.

Last night we had arranged for me to stay over at this house for the first time. We were both looking forward to it; he picked me up from work, I introduced him to the ladies in my office. We went ages in the freezing temperatures getting his groceries whereas he had said we might look at the Christmas lights along the Champs Elysee. We had some lovely cuddles on the couch in front of TV and he told me many times how lucky he was to find such an angel because he had given up hope, he loved me so much.

Great. We spent some nice intimate time together. Being post-menopausal I have some difficulties in this area but consideration and patience can surmount those with a compatible man. It bothered Gerard that he couldn't do everything he wanted but maybe time could improve things.

When I wake up in the morning it seems natural to me to want to reach over and kiss and cuddle my man. But when I tried to this morning I was told not to, to never kiss him in the morning because it was disgusting without people brushing teeth first and he never shows affection in the morning. I tried to encourage a little compromise but no, so I said things weren't working well. That was death to the relationship, my attempt to kiss him. I was so shocked and incredulous. He turned his back on me and told me I'd better organise myself to catch a train home. That's all he said. So I made my way to the lounge, changed from my PJs and cried. He came in and said nothing, walked ahead of me several spaces, would not share the lift with me and preferred to take the stairs. I asked him what was happening with him and was told I obviously wanted everything my way and didn't respect him. He said he can turn his feelings off, if there is a disease he amputates it.

I told him he was being cruel to me and he said I was just being clever with my words. Really, this was beyond a devastating experience for me. I have spent my life never finding a man who really wants me, who would stay, who values me and all the loyalty and affection I can bring. They say it but they don't mean it. I dared to love and trust and hope and within 10 hours it was over because I wanted to kiss or cuddle my man before lunch. Incredible.

Yes, I know, his past was very bad and I had discussed this with the ladies in my office. Bent spent most of his life as a gangster for a 'Godfather". He only shot one person and killed them to rescue a woman but he has certainly fired guns at bad guys and wounded them and been a bank robber as well as having inside knowledge on political assasinations. He told me he'd spent years with cocaine, cigarettes and champagne and 5000 (yes) 5000 women but gave it all up a long time ago. At 64 years of age he had realised what he wanted and often helps other people. He spent a total of 15 years in jail in various countries. Last night he told me he might have to risk a trip to Belgium to collect an expensive watch they were keeping for him that he had lost in prison there.Going back to Belgium risks being jailed there. I was unhappy the man I loved could be jailed for several months so he decided to delay the visit so we could spend time together. His past still affects his present even in small ways. But I loved to talk to him and hold him and share extraordinary tenderness. He told me the guys before him must have been arseholes not to want me.

I don't think I will ever understand Bent's brutal reaction and cruel comments and blame of me. How can a man not want to be woken with a kiss? Has the cocaine use in the past affected his sanity? Well, clearly I do not have a happy future there. Do I have one anywhere? I'm feeling more lonely than ever - there's no special person to share kindnesses with and Christmas now looks horribly bleak.

On top of this I took the day off to receive my personal effects. They never arrived. Cockup in the UK. I'm alone in my studio with a breaking heart, with scarcely enough money to eat for the next week, car bills and wondering if I'm really meant to be in France. Or anywhere. This blog is all about finding and realising my dreams. It involves my search for lasting love. Right now it's looking as hopeless as the day I was born.