He Makes It Easy Not to Love Him

I have only a few moments today before I head off to work. After my morning meds (that's short for meditation!!!), I realized that the sucky part of D is really just beginning. I truly thought that we could at least be amicable. But I realize now, it's not going to happen. The more I pull away, the more adversarial my son's father gets. (Notice something?) Oh never could I have foreseen this. Never could I really have prevented it. I have no control over it. It's a fire that I must walk thru in order to get past it. I cannot live on this side of it anymore. So I have to brace myself for some ugly battles. I am shocked, yes, that this is how it's turning out. It's ugly. It's going to get ugly. Yet, if I don't engage, if I give up anything that is held over my head, perhaps I will come out stronger. Maybe I will have less in terms of money. I will have been ruined financially. But I will still have my faith, my family by my side, my dear dear DEAR friends who carry me, my church support, a rewarding stable career and thank goodness, my darling son.

I do feel bad for Oliver. I really do. The idyllic life I had hoped for him, the dreams I had for him wont happen, at least not how I had envisioned. My heart hurts for his future hurts, when he comes to realize that he is, sadly, different from his other friends who have two parents at home. And before you comment on the state of divorce and how common (unfortunately) this is, stop. Please stop. Spare me that. I know you mean well, yet it almost makes me angry when folks say that. It almost makes me angry when folks say it could be worse or that Oliver will adjust, “kids are resilient.” Don't you think I know that? I do. (Except for the resilient part. I do not agree with that.) Don't minimize my own selfish pain, my own walk, my own journey. It's a loss, nonetheless. I wish it were different, and I am watching my family of three disintegrate before my very eyes. It's crumbling. It's like watching someone die in quicksand. (I saw that once, by the way, on TV... they couldn't save this woman. She died, descending slowly, right before her new husband's eyes, crying desperately for him to save her, fighting every sinking inch along the way. It was a tragic way to die. It was a tragic way to end a budding marriage. How does one ever get over that?) So it is with my marriage. The past 17 months have been a roller coaster, and now the last 6 months or longer the roller coaster has ceased being hilly. It's traveling down hill now, at a slow speed, but faster than I can catch up with. And you know what? I'm fine letting it go. I'm not fighting it anymore. I've ceased fighting, ceased trying. I'm building my own life now.

The unfortunate part is that my son's father (notice?) is getting more and more ugly, more and more adversarial. I don't know why. It's sad to see. He's angry. He's trying to hook me. I've stopped fighting. I just don't care anymore. Take it all. Take it all away from me. He can't hurt me anymore, anymore than he already has. I can't wait to be done with this. Can't wait to cut the strings. Can't wait to be free from his chain that tries to pull me down. I'm ready to start my new life. I have started it. And if he says he's the happiest he's every been, well good for him. I wish him well.

Know what? I think I'm a damn good catch. I think that a marriage to me is worth saving. I think any man would love to have this life. I think that my son's father (notice?) is a damn fool. I think I'm beautiful, loving, sweet, kind, a work in progress, giving, sexy, pretty, fun, funny, smart and a good mother. Someone told me recently, You are smart, creative, funny, and a dedicated and enthusiastic mother. That's hot. Finally... finally another man noticed that. Another man finds me attractive.

And finally, I believe it.

Thank you God for all you have given me. I love my God so much and I am so incredibly grateful for the life — tho imperfect — that I have.

Comments

  1. He's not a happy person. I can imagine all the stuff he says to you. You don't have to tell me. Stop talking about life with or without him. Then I will believe that you are beginning to move on. By the way, go out on a date. Don't date someone in NA, or a drug addict that goes to AA so he can con the drunks at the meeting so no one dares confront him. Leave the NA, AA or active drug addicts alone. Set a goal of a date by next week. He never was a catch. You are.

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  2. Ha, done already. :) Hi sister btw. I ALWAYS know when it's YOU.........

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  3. And......trust me, no drug addicts or active alchies are in my radar. If I see them with a beer bottle or worse, a shot glass in their hands, I run the other way.

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  4. alamodicus@gmail.comNovember 9, 2011 at 1:04 PM

    I'm getting caught up on your posts. I'm going through the same thing, but from the male side. The part about losing the idyllic future for kids really hit home for me. I am constantly reminded of the quote from "The Mill on the Floss" which goes as follows:

    "They had gone forth together into their life of sorrow, and they would never more see the sunshine undimmed by remembered cares. They had entered the thorny wilderness, and the golden gates of their childhood had forever closed behind them."

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  5. Thank you for that quote. I'm going to look it up... I'll post it on my blog sometime too... what's your first name (if you don't mind) :)

    thanks!
    andrea

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  6. alamodicus@gmail.comNovember 10, 2011 at 10:37 AM

    It's David. Sorry. I really like your blog and stumbled upon it quite a while ago. It's almost eerie with the number of similarities between your travails and mine (though my case involves three little boys). This blog is about you so I don't want to hog it...

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