Reading the name that’d just popped up in my Facebook inbox, I actually gasped.
That’s a blast from the past, I thought.
It was an evening in March 2018, and I’d not given Richard Wilson a second thought in years!
We’d dated briefly 10 years earlier, before it’d fizzled out.
How are you? Richard had asked.
A lot had happened since we’d last spoken.
I’d had five kids for a start! I was a single mum to
Ella,16, Cobie, 14, Antonia, 10, Anya, 7, and Gino, 3.
Long time, no speak, I typed back.
As the messages flew back and forth between us, I remembered what I’d liked about Richard, 31.
He was charming, funny, really easy to talk to.
A few weeks later, the kids stayed with my mum Janice, 46, while Richard came over to mine.
As we chatted, my nerves evaporated and it felt like old times.
Soon, we were an item again. We had a laugh together, going to reggae nights and bars.
He made an effort with my kids, too – trips to Legoland and to the cinema.
I fell for him even more.
But, after a couple of months, I noticed a different side to Richard…
He began questioning me, monitoring my social media.
‘You had four more Facebook friends yesterday,’ he said one night.
He demanded to know who I’d deleted, what I was hiding.
As a hairdresser, I used Facebook to book clients, generate business and had over 2,000 friends. I didn’t keep track of them.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I said, trying to calm him down. But it made things worse.
As time went on, Richard would be rude about my family and friends, until it became easier for me not to see them.
I cancelled plans, barely used social media.
Better than another argument, I’d think.
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