Goodnight Sweet Prince

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Goodnight Sweet Prince….

Although honestly, I am not inclined to call him sweet right now. Though just yesterday I called him sweetie, like I often do. But that was yesterday. Today, I had to let him go. One could say the choice was mine, but there was no other option. PC chose to create a situation that I am unable to tolerate.f404ef9a7ea4a76d7ec5b68dc377e153

I had to say goodbye to my Prince, because the NONSENSE is no longer serving as challenges that teach us lessons and make us stronger. It is damaging this beautiful, undefinable thing we created.

I don’t understand how it came to this. We are each others rock, safe haven and soft place to land. We help each other through the rough patches. Our unique connection led to the creation of a rare and beautiful and undefinable thing. We are each others “person”.

I don’t understand how we can let this go? He is my PC, I am his Snow White. He is my High Roller with Swagger to spare, and I am his “Poker Bitch”. Who will we talk to on the phone for 30 hours a week? What will we do without nights by the fire and “buca kisses”. Who will we laugh with about our endless repertoire of private jokes. Who will we laugh with about anything, as much as the two of us laugh about everything? Who will take me to the dive bar to visit the bartender I have a girl crush on? Who will teach him the ways of the evil genius and how to channel that power for good? Who will I play Keno and online Poker with? Who will warn him about upcoming astrological events or tell him what “magic rocks” to use?

I know what you are thinking. “She says she let him go, but she’s using present tense”. I am staying with present tense because we will always be those things to each other, even if we are apart. I also don’t know if this is the end forever, I am holding space for him in my heart. I just know that we have come to a place that is unacceptable for me. So today I said my peace and walked away, for now.

Goodnight Sweet Prince. Snow White will always love you.

It’s an Honor to be Nominated

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I was nominated for a Liebster Award! Imagine that?Liebster Award

Thank you SO much Writing in Whispers!

As “The Serenity of Sadness” clearly demonstrated, I have been in a very low place, and this nomination was just the boost I needed to start viewing things through a positive lens again! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

The rules of the Liebster Award…

1) Link to the person who nominated you
2) Answer their questions
3) Nominate new blogs for the award
4) Ask them 10 new questions
5) Let the nominees know they have been nominated

So here are my answers…

Why did you start your blog?
Life has been crazier than usual, and everyone would comment “You need to write a book/blog”.  Truth be told, I have ALWAYS wanted to write.  I was just never brave enough to pursue it.  So one day I came across WordPress while looking up another blog, and thought hmmm….  I registered and just started writing!

What is the most obscure ending to a book that you have ever come across?
I don’t know if it is obscure, but the ending of “Gone Girl” made me crazy!  Although somehow didn’t surprise me because I’ve had real life experiences with a sociopathic couple.

What is the worst piece of writing you have created?
Honestly, it was my first blog post here.  I’m not in love with it.  But it was a start!

Do you ever write to music? If you do, what songs do you listen to?
I have been so anxious lately that I can’t listen to music very often, too much background noise is overwhelming to me.   Plus, lyrics in many songs flood me with memories and feelings.  So when I do, I’ve been going with classical or relaxation/meditative, I need all the help I can get to stay even. 

Who is your greatest inspiration as a writer?
Just as an inside joke/wink to my close friends who follow me, I have to say… TH.   HAHAHAHA!   My serious answer is Lisa Kogan and Jennifer Weiner.  I love the honest, self deprecating, realness of their work.

If you could rename yourself, what name would you choose?
Hmmm, I think I already did, Snow White…

If you could commit a crime, and never have to suffer the consequences, what crime would you commit?
This is an easy one.  I would grab PC and pull off an Ocean’s Eleven style casino heist!

What is the most irritating thing a person can do to you?
I can’t stand it when someone says “I need to talk to you” or “I have to tell you something”, then leaves or says they will talk to me later.  I am an EPIC over thinker.  My brain will come up with some crazy stuff while I’m anxiously anticipating the conversation.

What do you do when you are not blogging?
Sadly it has mostly been obsessing, working or driving to and from work, and sleeping in between.  But when I can do other things I study astrology, enjoy pilates, or have cocktails with friends.

Which blog is your favourite blog?
Lessons From the End of a Marriage I find her blog to be so enlightening, her divorce was so traumatic, it helps me keep mine in perspective.

Now for my nominees…

  • I am going to nominate you right back  Writing in Whispers.  I know you’ve already been nominated, however I love the story you are telling and your great information on writing.
  • Lessons From the End of a Marriage  She has a pretty big following already, has a book, blogs for Huffington Post, and probably doesn’t need this nomination, but I really love her work.
  • Embracing a Wounded Soul  Haunting, moving and profound.
  • The Narcissist Writes Love how she embraces the narcissism, the blog is raw and funny and I’ve had my share of experience with narcissists so I somehow relate.  And what the hell, why not feed the narcissism with an award nomination!
  • Ro Ferrelli Inspiring, spiritual and thought provoking with a fun spirit.

And my questions for them…

  1. Why did you start your blog?
  2. If they made a movie about your life, who would play you?
  3. What is your favorite quote from a movie?
  4. What is your astrological sign and have you ever had your chart done?
  5. How do you find inspiration/come up with topics for your blog?
  6. Dog person or Cat person?
  7. If you were going to be dropped on a desert island for a year and could only bring one item and one person, what and who would you bring?
  8. What are your thoughts on fate vs free will?
  9. What is your favorite cocktail/drink?
  10. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

I would love to nominate more, but I am so new to this and haven’t had much time to explore all of the amazing blogs that are out there.  When I do I will be sure to recognize them.  I had no idea I was entering such a supportive community when I started this blog.  Thank you again Writing in Whispers for sending me a ray of hope!

 

The Serenity of Sadness

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Throughout this journey, I think I have managed to hold it together pretty well, maybe too well.  I had my share of meltdowns, but predominately in the realm of anxiety not sadness. I’ve obsessed, I’ve worried, I’ve won several gold medals in overthinking and immersed myself in happy distractions. That’s what I do in the face of traumatic/dramatic events, I block, I distract myself, I don’t let it in. I am GREAT at it. Until I’m not. Because inevitably the giant tsunami comes crashing down upon me. Like it is now.

l_92b8b540-34ee-11e2-9568-6f57fd700009One wouldn’t think that anxiety is a way of avoiding upsetting things in your life. It is an incredibly toxic, draining, uncomfortable state of existence stemming from these upsetting things. But I’m learning the hard way that anxiety is one of the mind’s greatest defense mechanisms. I have heard it said that the source of all stress is resistance. And it certainly is the source of most of my anxiety. It’s my resistance to the reality of what is happening. For me it isn’t from trying to live in denial that the thing is happening, but resistance to admitting that the thing is having an effect on me. It’s maintaining the appearance that I am ok, having no trouble soldiering on. My mother set that example for me and I learned at a very young age that it was expected of me. (I do not mean that in a harsh way. My mother was the kindest, gentlest most amazing woman I have ever know. But she was STRONG beyond measure, and persevered through things I can’t fathom having to go through.)

It’s my job to be ok and persevere. Especially in the case of this divorce. Because I asked for it. I wanted it. I shouldn’t be experiencing any loss or sadness over something I chose. I know consciously this isn’t true, I am more than entitled to have an emotional reaction to the ending of a 20 year marriage and my children moving into the next phases of their lives. But my subconscious doesn’t believe that, and the EX goes out of his way to remind me that I was the one who initiated the conversation. I can’t crack, I have to be strong.  I have amazing friends who hate seeing me suffer and children who need to feel safe.  I have to be ok.  So, I come up with all of these ways, reasons, rationalizations about why I should be ok; combine it with all of the bright sides and encouraging words from people who care about me, and I work myself into a state of constant anxiety trying to hold it together.

Then, there is the distraction factor, and my distraction has been PC. I’ve established that it’s been a wild, complicated ride. I let our relationship be my primary distraction for the past 17 months. I also used it as a place to project all of my overthinking and anxiety. I am honestly a bit angry at myself now, because I deprived myself of a lot of joy by worrying and obsessing.

So what’s bringing on the tsunami now? The baby was certainly a trigger, but it is really the realization that I was actually happier a year ago than I am today. That was NOT the plan. A year ago I had such great expectations for the new life I envisioned for myself, I was proud of myself for being brave and full of hope for the future. I was certain I would find a new path/life purpose/career. PC and I were new and both of our lives were so much simpler. My kids were still versions of themselves I was familiar with, despite the fact my daughter was leaving for college. The house felt empty when she left, but I could still pull of a homey feel now and then. A comfortable routine and flow still existed.

Fast forward to today. The new job I thought would energize me is good, but the commute is a drain and never being home is straining my relationship with my son.  Life is more complicated for PC and I. My kids are new people I haven’t quite figured out yet. The house is a giant, cold, empty, lifeless vortex. There is no routine or flow, we all just float like balloons without strings.

I feel like I have spent the last year walking through quicksand. I’m exhausted from the effort required to stay positive, stay in “high180px-Sad_Snow_White vibration”, and from the anxiety. I have nothing left, no energy for resisting, so the other day I just accepted all of my realities. As is always the case, once I stopped resisting, I was overwhelmed by sadness. A deep indescribable sadness. But the funny thing is, the sadness is bringing me just a tiny bit of peace, which is something I have been longing for.

Letting myself be sad removes the knot in my stomach, the pulsing in my temples, the dry mouth and the racing heartbeat. It even quiets my mind a bit. I’m coming to realize that I will never move past this spot, stuck in the quicksand, unless I allow this sadness to move through me. It is part of the process.

Sure I cry A LOT, and I am not much fun to be around. I’m unhappy and I almost lose my breath whenever I think of the comparably care free days of last summer. It’s ok though.  I should be sad.  The reality is I have to do the hard work to find what I am supposed to be doing. The reality is life is not what it was last year for PC and I. The reality is kids grow and change constantly. The reality is I can’t find a new, cozier home until the divorce is final. The reality is, life is in a state of flux. The reality is, my reality sucks. And that’s ok. There is a serenity in the sadness.

Apologies for the drama, I much prefer writing snark, but I just don’t have it in me today.  But I am certain the Universe will send me something ridiculous to write about soon!

It’s Goin’ Down, I’m Yellin’ Tinder

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Have you heard of Tinder? It’s a dating app that uses your Facebook profile and matches you with people based on your geographic/age preferences, mutual friends and interests. It takes all of 5 minutes to be up and running, then you anonymously like or pass on people by swiping left no/right yes. If you have both swiped right it results in a “match” and the app opens a text chat between you. In actuality it is a game, and when you hit on a match you have the option to stop and text your new match or “Keep Playing”. I can handle playing. Dating, not so much.

Dating is not my favorite topic, I don’t even like the word.  I don’t understand dating, maybe because I have never done it.  I had two relationships in my late teens/early twenties back in the days when you liked a boy, he liked you, and you became an “insta-couple”.  I met EX when I was 21, and we didn’t date.  We were a regular hook-up that turned into a relationship. Astrologically, dating is not in my chart.  I’ve had several astrologers say some version of “you are NOT a dater”.

PC is also a large part of why dating makes me cringe.  When he and I first re-connected, he was 8 months into his separation, I was still married, and he was actively dating.  Of course he was, it’s what most separated men do almost immediately.  Divorce is a HUGE blow to the male ego.  Even I understand why dating is an important part of the healing process.  He should have been dating.  So it caught me off guard when, during that first conversation, PC mentioned “the women I’ve dated” and I almost blacked out with jealousy.  Side Note: You know there is a problem when you find a suspicious text from another woman on your husband’s phone, and feel nothing; but a platonic male friend you haven’t seen in 10 years and haven’t spoken to in 4 years mentions he’s been dating, and you have a visceral reaction. 

To say I struggled with the dating concept once our relationship shifted doesn’t begin to cover it, (that requires it’s own post).  PC and I are both free to date.  I am not dating.  If PC dates it is a deal breaker.  I detest the concept, it is NONSENSE.  All of my friends think I should date.  I actually agree, I probably should, I just don’t have it in me.  I wish I did, and on more than one occasion when the roller coaster was dropping I have demanded that my friends find me someone to go on a hate date with.  Thankfully it isn’t so easy to find someone for a hate date.  The only real option seems to be online dating, and that is one of my worst nightmares.

ab5edff0a34f4d7a88830fef12833aceI understand why people use online dating.  I have a friend who met her soon to be fiancé that way, and I am thrilled for her.  I know it works for some people.  I guess my aversion stems from the same wiring that makes me hate dating in general.  It just feels so forced to me, like you are letting the internet do the Universe’s job.  (I suppose one could argue that the Universe is using the internet as a tool, but that’s WAY too philosophical for this post.)  There is an online dating site for EVERY type of person and relationship, it goes well beyond Match and E-Harmony.  There are sites for “Group Daters” and Swingers, even one for “Farmers Only”.  It’s a world unto its own.  But last week one of my best friends, who has requested to be called Daisy here, introduced me to the world of Tinder.

Daisy is fabulous, in her early thirties, and recently went through a horrific breakup.  Though she doesn’t share my overall views on dating, she is not a fan of online dating, and right now she isn’t enthusiastic about dating of any kind.  So when friends forced her onto Tinder she was not pleased. But Daisy is “Yellin’ Tinder” now. There is power in a good ego boost and a good distraction to help you through heartbreak, and Tinder provides both in spades.  She showed it to me and I was so entertained I decided to give it a try.

Daisy and I don’t care about the outcome of any of this, so scrolling through potential matches is pure entertainment. The two things that are an automatic swipe left for me are, having the same first name as EX (rules out 20%, super common name); and having the same first name as PC (way more than I expected, his name is not common). We both have a minimum height requirement of 6’2″.  You can’t select a height preference, so if they don’t offer it up in their profile you have to go by the pictures. If he doesn’t look tall enough, swipe left. Even without that criteria, it’s almost always easy to make a split second decision…

I’ve been on just a few days and I have well over 20 matches, which isn’t too shabby for a mid-life Princess. And Daisy, being fabulous and young, is receiving a tremendous response.  I have no plans to ever actually date any of these matches. Daisy may, because why not, she’s young.  And smart.  She is currently chatting with an MMA fighter who texts “RAWR” several times a day, and she would love to parade this giant through the bar her ex frequents just for fun.  She has also had to delete some gems, including a guy who lost his license for 10 years and wants her to travel 20+ miles to see him; and another who text and asked “are you thinking about how much you want to f*** me”. Which makes me feel lucky that the men in my age category (43-52) seem to have a very limited ability to chat it up via text. I’ve only heard from a few, and the worst I’ve encountered is one who started out strong, but now communicates mostly via smiley emoticons.

I am definitely having fun with this. I don’t see me venturing any further into the world of online dating, or dating of any kind. But if dating is a concept I have to deal with, I will play.

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Do you find me changed?

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candidkay

I saw the look on your face, the one that told me my response to you was oh so inconvenient and not at all what you had planned.

It said, without words, “You’ve changed.”

Have I? How very observant of you.

I understand why you are still expecting the reactions and compliance you used to get—because you are living in a relatively unchanged state. Nothing big or dramatic has happened in your life lately. You’re a bit bored with your routine. And so, the tiniest of things becomes your mountain. A mountain you want everyone else to “climb” the way you are.

But that no longer works for me. I have experienced a different life these past several years.

And yes, it has changed me.

ButterflySome say for the better. My closest friends have seen me struggle, and in that struggle, earn a strength that is more than rock solid…

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Once Upon Another Time

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I lost the baby pool by 4 hours.  The man who is technically still my husband has a new baby as of 4:00 am yesterday.  I have spent the last 24 hours trying to decipher what it is that I am feeling.  I think the answer lies somewhere in the haunting Sarah Bareilles song that has been running through my head on a loop since yesterday afternoon, “Once Upon Another Time“…

Once upon another time, somebody’s hands who felt like mine, turned the key and took a drive, was free 
I recall the sun sank low, Buckley on the radio, cigarette was burning slow, so breathe 
Just yellow lines and tire marks, sun-kissed skin and handle bars, and where I stood, was where I was, to be 
No enemies to call my own, no porch light on to pull me home, and where I was is beautiful, because I was free 
Once upon another time, before I knew this life was mine, before I left the child behind me
I saw myself in summer nights, and stars lit up like candle lights, I made my wish, but mostly I believed 
In yellow lines and tire marks, sun-kissed skin and handle bars and where I stood, was where I was, to be 
Once upon another time, decided nothing good in dying, so I would just keep on driving, because I was free

This song resonated with me deeply during my first few months in the rabbit hole.  At the time it made me think about the summer of 1991 when I met the EX, when I was full of fun and still free to be who I was.  It made me think about how, by getting married so young, I never had the opportunity to define myself.  I would listen to it and think about how badly I wanted the freedom to just be who I am, even though I am not sure what that even means.  That was 17 months ago, I am now on the path towards defining myself, so why is this song haunting me today?  I’ve come to the conclusion that the birth of this baby is making me long for a different Once Upon Another Time.

Once Upon Another Time, I had babies.  Of course I still do, as I tell my kids, “You will always be my baby, even when you are 120!”.  But it’s not the same anymore.  There was a time, not so long ago, that my world had a purpose, and my purpose was my babies.  I may not have been a stay-at-home Mom for most of their young lives, and I certainly wasn’t President of the PTO, but for the most part my world happily revolved around them.  Now my world just spins aimlessly.

Once Upon Another Time there was a feeling of warmth, comfort and safety in my life.  There isn’t enough room on the internet to list all of the things I loved about my kids being younger.  The overall feeling was pure joy.  The simple pleasure of hanging around the house on a Saturday afternoon, cooking something for dinner that they would no doubt complain about, while they went about the business of being kids.  Or the warm satisfaction of getting them bathed, into their jammies and cuddling up on the couch to watch TV.  Or going to bed at night long after they were asleep, having had the joy of tucking them in hours earlier.  Or the contagious excitement of experiencing the world through their young eyes.  And nothing was better than creating magical holidays and birthdays for them.  Well nothing except for the hugs.  That’s probably what I miss the most, the endless supply of snuggles and hugs.

All of that is gone now.  We are all rarely, if ever, home at the same time.  And if we are they are in their new, older worlds.  They are much too busy, and too old, for cozy jammies and cuddling up to watch TV.  I am almost always asleep before they are.  They still love our holiday traditions, but the magic of childhood is decidedly absent.  They are very loving, I still get a hug here and there, but the days of super giant snuggle hugs are gone.  Sure, there is much to enjoy about them in their new older form.  And my son is still technically a kid (though almost a teenager).  It’s just different now.  Back then, they were my world, the years were formed by tiny magical moments and time was marked by their milestones.  It is as though there was a warm, magical, golden glow that surrounded those younger years that has been extinguished.

This isn’t new. It has been a large part of the emotional processing I have done over the past year.  I just don’t focus on it.  Because I’m no different than any other Mom whose children are getting older, so who am I to complain?  And as emotional as I am about this, I also remember that having small children is exhausting and often frustrating.  Of course it wasn’t all magic and I know the emotion causes a purely nostalgic view of that time.  I understand that life is a series of chapters, and the magical chapter has ended.  In most ways I am ready to move on with gratitude for having experienced such joy.  It’s just that this baby is stirring up all of the emotions that I am a master at suppressing.

He gets to have the magic again.  And I think that makes me angry.  Because, from where I stood he didn’t appreciate it when he had it the first time.  I have no way of knowing what he was experiencing, he never shared that.  It’s quite possible he was full of repressed joy.  But I feel like I did it alone.  Not single Mom alone, but emotionally alone.  When I would express how magical or fun something was and try to share a “moment” with him I was met with indifference.  I never had the experience of looking at my husband while I was interacting with my kids and seeing him watch me with loving eyes.  I never had the experience of locking eyes with him and smiling over a childhood “moment” we were witnessing.  I didn’t get to have fun with my husband creating holiday magic.  I was Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny alone.  If he did help with any of those things it was because I nagged him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.  And instead of having fun he spent the time giving me the third degree about how much the gifts/candy, etc. cost.  But that didn’t ruin it for me because my kids are amazing.  I treasured every second of it, and wouldn’t change a thing.  Now he gets to do it all again.  He has a new baby AND the 5 year old.  I hope he is smart enough to enjoy it this time.

As for that song, the lyrics mean something different to me now than they did 17 months ago.  I will just keep on driving, even though things may not be easy and I have no idea which life is mine.  And maybe 20+ years from now I will look back at this transitional phase of my life and say…Once Upon Another Time, where I was, was beautiful.

Disturbing Behavior

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DISCLAIMER: As much as I will bash my soon to be ex-husband (EX) in my posts, it does take two. I wasn’t a gem all of the time either, and I own my participation in the demise of our marriage. I sincerely wish him the best and send him love and light. But he just provides way too much material.

Have you ever seen anything quite so disturbing?

Have you ever seen anything quite so disturbing?

Did you know that Almond Butter is the root of all evil? Prior to April of 2013 I was blissfully unaware of this, but apparently, if your husband thinks everything you do is a) stupid, b) selfish or c) disturbing, almost anything can be evil. Buying Almond Butter is only one of many behaviors my EX considers disturbing. The list includes, but is not limited to: using hot rollers, working until 6:15pm, playing Words with Friends, drinking more than one glass of wine more than once a week, texting, reading on the beach while on vacation, making new friends and staying out past 11pm. One would think this would be recognized as merely living life, and that one’s husband would be more disturbed by his formerly lively and outgoing wife doing nothing but binge crocheting. Not mine.

Like I said, I lived my entire life not realizing that such things could be classified as disturbing behavior. Then one morning in April of 2013, after I had come home fairly late the night before, the following text exchange occurred:

EX: “Well that was disturbing news last night.”
SW: “What news? You were asleep when I got home”
EX: “That you were out so late. It’s disturbing behavior. You working late last week, drinking so much wine on Easter, texting your friends, your behavior has been very disturbing lately.”

Truth be told, my behavior the night before could quite possibly be considered disturbing (that’s for another post). But EX did not have the information required to make that determination. I did not continue the exchange. It was not worth the argument, and I was too busy focusing on my escape plan to care much.

Fast forward 11 months and I discovered that EX’s standards for what is considered disturbing behavior are quite “unique”. According to his standards all of the things mentioned above, and more, are considered disturbing. What I learned is, according to his standards, knocking up your 20 something girlfriend from Africa, less than 3 months after you moved out of the house is not. Also not considered disturbing behavior, telling your soon to be ex-wife about this via text message. Not even a text message focused on this news, but as an “oh by the way” at the end of a text message about summer camps for our son…”he can do this one this week, this one another week, then we have this. Oh and I’m having a baby in June so that should make things exciting.” 4d4763762f6b74ae97c34477558679b9I am not making this up. It’s the equivalent of, or likely worse, than when Berger broke up with Carrie via post-it note on Sex in the City. It also isn’t disturbing to hide the news from your 80+ year old parents and expect your existing children, your sister and your niece and nephew to not mention it. Nor is it disturbing to move your girlfriend’s existing 5 year old son from Africa to the US to live with you one week before the baby is due, and not bother telling your adult daughter or soon to be ex-wife that this is happening.

Please do not mistake my snark about this situation as jealousy or bitterness. It is anything but. I’m pretty sure I actually got over him about 10 years ago, because it was the only way to deal with his emotionally detached, judgmental, stifling and condescending ways towards me. I also honestly want him to be happy, and if creating a whole new family, deceiving his parents and getting up for 2am feedings again makes him happy then good for him. But I am much too sarcastic, and my sense of humor is much too warped to not appreciate the hilarity and utter ridiculousness of this situation. To quote my daughter, “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”!?!?

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WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.!?!?!

The consensus in my household, and among most people who know us or anything about EX, is that this is the LAST thing anyone would have ever predicted. EX has historically been one of the most reserved, non risk-taking, closed off people you would ever meet. He was famous for repeatedly stating “I don’t want any new friends. I have enough friends. I don’t need any new friends.” Everyone agrees, even me, that if you were to predict which one of us would wind up in a “you can’t make this shit up” scenario, it would without question be ME.  I don’t want to discount his right to change, or be more of who he really is now that we split up. That is one of the primary benefits of divorce, you become free to be who you are or want to be. I’m doing that (or trying to at least) and he deserves to as well. This is just an EXTREME way of doing that.

If it weren’t for the fact that it is so hard on my son, I would be 100% ecstatic about this turn of events.  EX loved to paint me as the one who did all the crazy things.  Rightfully so.  Well look who’s crazy now!  It also provides endless entertainment for me, my daughter and all of our friends.  My son is a resilient kid with lots of people who love him and great friends.  I hate that he has to go through this, but I know he will be ok and is undoubtedly learning lots of lessons from it.

As shocking as it is, there is this tiny part of me that isn’t actually surprised at all.  I don’t know if that’s because I tend to be a magnet for “you can’t make this shit up” type of things or if I just always sensed EX was completely repressed.  I keep remembering something PC said to me, way back at the beginning when EX did a few things I found mildly out of character.  He said “I think you are going to find that EX is not who you thought he was.  He’s always had that stoic way about him that led me to believe there was far more going on under the surface than anyone knew.”  Looks like PC was right.  PC also believes that we don’t even know half of what is yet to be revealed about this situation.  I’m inclined to believe him, because the degree of secrecy EX has been maintaining is fairly extreme.

So here we are.  It is June 17, 2014, the girlfriend and the 5 year old are living with the man who is technically still my husband and she is due to have his baby in 5 days, on June 22nd.  I am thinking of starting a baby pool, and my pick will be June 21st.  Exactly one year to the day that EX moved out of the house.  Because that’s just how the Universe seems to be working these days.