Thread by @Tunrip, A long time ago in a lifetime that feels far, far away, [...]

A long time ago in a lifetime that feels far, far away, I proposed to the woman I had been in a relationship with for 5 years and asked her to marry me.

I believed at the time that it was the right thing to do, and that although things were not perfect, we would live Happily Ever After. A Date was set for the following year.

As The Date grew closer, I began to worry more and more about whether it was the right decision. I started an anonymous blog simply to have somewhere to try to process my thoughts.

Only the week before The Date we agreed that when we got back from the honeymoon we should start some sort of relationship counselling.

The wedding was pleasant. My speech half-assed and abysmal.

(at this point I stop working out what I was saying in advance and will tweet as I go. It is emotional remembering back then and I am trying to be honest with it all)

There was no "evening" to the wedding. Neither of us really drank, and she pointed out it was often just people drinking and partying. I didn't feel bothered.

You see what I mean about it being a lifetime ago? Imagine me missing out on drinking and partying now. AS. IF.

I remember feeling sad a lot over the next couple of weeks.

She fell asleep the wedding night. It had been a long day to be fair, of course. As I hung out the "do not disturb" sign on the hotel door the sounds of another couple being far more enthusiastic drifted past my ears.

The honeymoon was beautiful.

But I also remember the number of times she stayed in the room while I went out to get food for us both.

Something I was happy to do, but... at the same time... not

Afterwards, we continued. Not much had really changed, of course, when you're already living with someone.

I did love her.

I continued to write my blog. To share things that upset or scared me. Sometimes you're scared of how something stupid will come out.

"Will people laugh at me for this?"

They did not. They listened.

Some six months or so later, we were able to start relationship counselling.

When you start, they talk to you initially as a couple to give you an overview and explanation of it.

Then you each have a chance to talk to the counsellor privately to explain how you feel etc.

I think while my wife had perhaps 30 minutes in private, I had more like 1.5 hours.

I explained about my blog.

And I explained how through my blog I had begun talking to someone. Someone who made me think and smile.

And so, some umpteen tweets in, we begin to get to my point.

It was important for me to explain this to the counsellor, because I knew it felt wrong.

Nothing had "happened", no lines had technically been crossed.

But I knew that I got a level of emotional support that I was missing.

And I knew that my senses were screaming at me that this was wrong, but it had snuck up on me in a way I hadn't expected.

I was so pleased to explain all this to the counsellor. She asked whether I'd like to bring it up in a session, or tell my wife before the following week, or not discuss it, etc.

I chose to tell my wife before the next session.

I explained about the blog, and I explained about the person.

She was very understanding.

I do not remember whether it was this counsellor, or a private one I had later in life who explained that sometimes a person can simply make you think about where you are and what you want.

Things by this point already seemed so different to where they had started. Sometimes the only thing that really changes is your perspective, but it can make everything seem so different.

And so, some ten months after the wedding, I moved out for a trial three months.

I rented an unfurnished flat and for a long while most of my furniture was inflatable.

One thing was and remains clear to me:

You end one thing before you start another. Maybe that's not always as clear as you'd like, but you should either work to solve problems or make a choice that it's not where you want to be.

During those three months, I remember The Girl joked she could come over and help me test my new (non-inflatable) bed on Valentine's Day.

"No," I said, "I'm spending this one on my own."

I have a lot of learnings and regrets from that time.

But, and I know this sounds trite, I do often think of Spider-Man. "With great power comes great responsibility".

When I told my wife I was happier without her it was one of the absolutely hardest and most difficult things I've done in my life and I broke into proper ugly crying as I watched her drive away.

But in the end, I was OK. I was getting what I wanted.

My responsibility comes in not carelessly allowing that to happen again.

We can all fall in love and we can all be hurt.

I still hope that one day I will get married again, and that it will be Happily Ever After (or thereabouts).

It is up to me in how I talk to people and the barriers I set. If you love or care about people, it is your responsibility to be honest and to manage those expectations.

And you can make mistakes. We all can. But it's so very important to own them and learn from them.

Twitter has been raining fire upon people recently in response to people who (if I am exceptionally kind to them) did not manage those expectations in their dealings with others, and people have been trying to leap in and defend them from that fire too.

In the initial fallout someone said to me, "But don't you see he was just being nice? Don't you see it could happen to you?"

Yes. It could. But only if I have already failed those people (and myself), and further, by not owning those mistakes and apologising for them appropriately.

I don't want to pour petrol on the flames already going around, but I would like people to understand why I think some things are wrong, and why I think they can be handled better.

Talking from the heart I hope will help with that xxx

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