Let A Little Love In

Attending a wedding the day after a breakup isn’t anyone’s idea of fun, but on a day of love and acceptance Maria Hoyle comes to an important realisation

Yesterday my relationship ended. It was the latest of many, and in that moment my whole life appeared to me like one of those clumsy days when you break everything you touch. One minute it’s there – solid, cherished – the next a collection of shards and perilous bits on the floor. Mind where you tread. Get the dustpan. Put it back. No actually, leave it out. You might as well.

When I hit the red telephone symbol on my mobile to end The Conversation – reluctantly because his voice still soothed me – I remained sitting in my car at the Auckland Domain. It was a beautiful day. The sun did what the sun does, it blazed and was annoyingly cheerful, like that stranger on the street: ‘Come on love, give us a smile’. I will not give you a smile, can’t you see I am busy being in pain?

What had gone wrong? What had I said, or done? How could I change, to make sure this works the next time? Next time, ha. Will there be a next time? Shouldn’t I just take the hint, adopt another cat, and resign myself to solitude? Should I spend a few years ‘working on myself’ before I tackle my next romantic Everest? Oh shut up and get out of the car.

I opened the door, swivelled around in my very clingy dress, stood up, took a deep breath and headed towards the bandstand. To a wedding.

THE HAPPY COUPLE

I wanted to stride across the grass… proud, defiant. But my choice of clothing and high heels obliged me to take farcical pin steps. Just when I wanted to be a lioness, I had to mimic the gait of a dachshund.

The rotunda was filling with people. As I got nearer, I spied an ex. Yes another one. They litter my history – ex, ex, ex, ex, ex, ex, ex – a long line of cold kisses.

‘Okay, you can do this,’ I told myself. Lights, camera, action. And…