Things are so busy. I'm so behind that I feel like I suck at my job nevermind the disaster that the house is in. And then there's so much excitement too because Snugglebunny may move in soon. Eww's and Ahhh's are clashing.
Then there's a huge icky issue in the background that is becoming highlighted with the change in the way the sunlight shines into windows as Summer turns to Autumn ... I'm not ready to face it yet so how about a diversion? Circumstances of socializing led to me seeing "Goi.ng the Dis.tance" twice in the past week and now all I want to hear is this song
I'm scared of SB moving in. Scared of losing my opinions. Scared of forgetting the small amount of self-sufficiency I've gained. Already ashamed of how much I love Friday nights when I can sit down with a bottle of wine, read blogs about parenthoods cut short, and maybe write in my own. My therapist says that co-habitation involves a business transaction of sorts. We have to figure out the sticky bits of how much he will pay to live in the home I own. I already suspect that if he becomes unemployed (not a far fetched event in the US lately) I will feel resentful about having to pay for his share, only because my salary isn't big enough to share.
This house was purchased a little over 6 years ago. X and I flew into town, the first time either of us had been here, and had 4 days to find a house to buy. I wonder if our Realtor thought we were crazy! On the day we left we placed an offer for a different house but we ended up buying our second choice. I wanted a brick house with hardwood floors; we bought a split-level house with 80's siding and beige carpet. But when I stand at the top of the stairs and look into the living room with the vaulted ceilings there is just so much space and so much air that ... there's room to breathe ... it's safe without being claustrophobic ... it's expansive and peaceful. You can see the soul of the house there, if such a thing exists. I wish you all could see it.
Huge rewind to 7 years earlier and we married; back when we were too young to imagine how sadly marriage could turn out. Rewind another 6 years prior to that and we met. I was 16. I still cannot comprehend how he could just walk away after we had been friends and spouses for 17 years. It's been almost 2 years since he left and that is enough to tip the scales so that he hasn't been in my life for longer than he was. Whoever he really was.
Was he ever who I thought he was?
He had opportunity after endless opportunity to be viewed as a great guy, not a guy who is unfaithful and slimy, not a guy who was emotionally abusive, not a guy who has his wife abort an unplanned pregnancy, not a guy who abandons his wife when things get very hard. But when he wasn't being a jerk he was my best friend. Or rather he was the best friend of the me who was nervous, shy, afraid of everything, emotionally unpredictable ... the incarnation before version 2.bitter.
The me from the days when living together could be spontaneous and romantic and completely business transaction free misses him.
I had a goal to be divorced by the end of the year and it's just about time for me to ask again if he will agree to a reasonable settlement. Because even though he was an incredibly important person to me for 17 years it's useless to wait any more for him to turn into the person I thought he was. I can't respect myself if I wait for him.
Will the heartbreak of this lost romance ever completely end? Can the soulbreak from living in the shadow of a selfish person mend? And how does one ever reconcile the loss and the hate?