I Suppose This Post Needs to Be Typed.

Two weeks ago, the Swede was here and we were a little more than half way through his visit.

Things were not going as I had hoped. Without dredging up all the bits and details, it was not a good visit. I broke up with him late at night on the 1st. I had been worried about the visit since we had been having bumps for a while, but I never expected it to go as it did. Within the first two days of his being here, all confidence I had was gone, I felt rejected, ugly, annoying, and had been told that my dreams and goals were unrealistic. One of the sharpest blows was that he had told me over the phone recently that he wanted to discuss the idea of his moving here when he saw me face-to-face, but when the topic came up in conversation once he was here, he stopped me mid-sentence and asked me why we would ever discuss that, and made it clear that he had no intention. Added to all the other going-ons, I was heartbroken. I was so sad that I would cry quietly in the shower each day, pressing my hands to my face to try to muffle the sound.

I didn't tell anyone much of what was going on when he was here, but there was no hiding it. Even my mum commented that I was not the same with him here, in demeanor or personal style. Without knowing the full story at the time, she still was there for me with hugs and telling me she was sorry to see me so sad. I felt like the colors were taken from my day. Agent M was edgy around him, often trying to get his attention but not getting much of it. It was such a different visit than the last time. I spent hours and days wondering what had changed, what I had done wrong to lose his interest and why others girls seemed to have it. I let it tear me down completely, at one point barely being able to muster up even the minimum amount of energy needed to pull off a facade of sunshine to make it through each day.

WonderTwin kept me going with daily texts of, "Good Morning, Beautiful!" and promises of ice cream and movie-watching time after the Swede left. My gals sent me messages telling me to keep my chin up, that they were making  plans to capture me for a girl's night to catch up. A couple other friends tried to comfort me during the nights I stayed up while the Swede slept, as I was crying so hard that I could barely see the keys to type while we chatted online. I didn't tell any of them the full details, mostly just that I was feeling so worthless and ugly and didn't know what had happened. I felt ashamed, stupid, and confused. I felt like a fool for believing anything he had said to me, and heartbroken over the actions that were so much louder than the few words he was saying.

But, that was two weeks ago. And I have gotten such an out pouring of love since he has left.

WonderTwin met me at my place when I got home from taking the Swede to the airport. I had sobbed the whole way home and tears were still streaming down my face when I pulled into my apartment parking lot. We stood in my doorway and he held me while I cried more. I poured it all out to him. I cried over how I felt I had been treated, over how I felt stupid, confused, and the grief for things that I thought were going to happen but never will. The whole time, he just held me close and listened. Then he took me to breakfast. When I picked Agent M up from school that day, we laid on my bed and just existed with each other for a bit. We tickled each other and smiled. WonderTwin came over again that evening, and ended up staying the night, helping me sleep soundly for the first time in three weeks.

The first few days were rough, but friends were practically shouting at me on my Facebook page and through texts - they loved me and were there for me. The girl's night was like a breath of air for a gasping fish. We laughed as I tried to learn to make fried chicken, then I poured it all out for them while eating the extremely burnt chicken and drinking lemonade vodka. My gals listened, lectured me on not calling them, but were never judgmental. I finally was able to tell my mum the details the next night, while driving her home from the airport. Again, more love, more support, and more being told that I deserved to be treated better.

It has been two weeks since the middle of that visit. The Swede and I are going to try to be friends. He tells me he misses me and still loves me. But I genuinely don't feel the same. I am hurt by his actions, hurt by things that went on behind my back and while he was here. We have chatted a little since he has been home. It is awkward and slow going, but we will see where it ends up. I'd like to say I am fine either way, even though I really miss how he was, but definitely not how he has been lately.

A lot has changed though since he has left. I might have a new job, my friends continue to amaze me with how supportive and loving they are, my confidence is (sortof) back, and WonderTwin...well, he is WonderTwin.

This morning, Agent M, WonderTwin, and I were all lounging on my bed before I took Agent M to school. WonderTwin was using his laptop and explaining a video game program to Agent M while I checked my emails on my laptop. After taking Agent M to school, as I was heading back to my place to get ready for school and work, I decided to stop and get some breakfast to surprise WonderTwin, who was still at my place working on his laptop. And really, that's when what I already knew really became the clearest. I really like WonderTwin. He makes me laugh, he holds me when I cry. He encourages me to push myself without making me feel like I am being a wimp. We can talk for hours just as comfortably as when we are doing our own things in silence while sitting next to each other. He plays with Agent M effortlessly and gets it when I am busy with Agent M. Honestly, the two of them have developed a habit of ganging up on me with fart jokes or demands for ice cream...and even though I throw them looks and tell them they are impossible, I love it. He has just as wicked a sense of humor as I do, is creative and passionate about his interests, and has a curiosity for the world that I have never really seen in another guy. He brings a lot to the table, haha. When I am not so hurt and my heart has healed, he is the type of guy I'd like to make smile every day. We've talked a bit about it, and he knows I am still hurting. But he knows I won't always be hurting so much. And he says he is waiting until that day.

January 4th, 2012

I made it through the 4th with out biting anyone's head off, eating a tub of ice cream, screaming curse words, mentally tearing apart The Ex Hubby, or drinking myself to sleep (which I would not have really done anyways because Agent M was home and I don't have alcohol anywhere near me or the house when he is here).

It would have been our 8 year anniversary. Instead, it was the 1 year anniversary of when he filed the papers for our divorce, without my knowing. I was less than one month out of my shoulder surgery and in the process of moving down the street from one apartment complex to another, to an apartment that was twice the size for the same price. It was a whirlwind of a new year already, and I had no clue what else was coming my way.

I didn't know that in the coming weeks, Agent M and I would come home from running errands after school, and there would be a stack of papers sitting on our doorstep. I didn't know that it would hit me so hard that I gasped for air once I realized what the papers were, and I would continue to gasp like a fish as I told Agent M to unlock the door for us, and to go inside while I called Nana. He played upstairs in his room as I choked back unexpected sobs and begged my mum to come over. She only lived a mile away, not more than a 5 minute drive even if you get stuck each of the three stop lights between us, but I still swear if felt like she was there in 45 seconds. (Further proof that nothing will stop a mother when her daughter's barely healed heart is shattering all over again, and that nothing will stop a Nana when her grandson needs to be distracted from how sad the world can be at times.)

Even though it has been about 2 years since I left our home together, and more years than that that we did not considered ourselves a couple, this year hit a nerve. The Swede and I had been having a tough couple of days, and when I asked him, "Are we ok?", reading his typed reply of "Yes, we are ok.", just wasn't the same as getting a reassuring hug or kiss on the forehead. Valentine's candy and decor have been spring up at the store I work at, a reminder that I will be at school on V-Day evening, not having a night of movies and cuddling with The Swede (or even a night of Monopoly and cartoons with Agent M). Work had been busier than usual already that week, plus everyone was edgy after hearing about a former co-worker who took is own life at the start of the week, leaving behind a daughter and wife. I didn't know the man other than by name and a couple hello's, but it still had an impact on me. It made me think more than usual about where I am at, and where I want to be. I've been in that sad, lonely, dark place. Where you don't see things working out for the better. At that time, I was a stay-at-home mum, and had the house, the husband, the two cars, two cats, and happy kid. Now, I work as many hours as they'll give me to have the money to keep the car, have an apartment (not complaining, it's pretty nice) and my ex-husband would be perfectly happy to label me as The Bad Guy and never have anything to do with me again. But thankfully, the kid is still pretty happy. If I can lose so much and still keep my head up as I struggle each month, why couldn't he find his way out of that dark place? Those thoughts swirls in my head and jumbled with the what-ifs of "What If - I had stayed longer?" and "What If - I end up old and alone with no one to hold me on cold nights?" and on and on. I listened to love songs on the way home from work and wondered if anyone would ever fall in love with me again, and if I could ever let myself fall in love with someone again.

I was a pity party waiting to happen, really.

But, I made it though. When Agent M went to bed that night, I got a little teary for a moment...then went back to looking up costs of textbooks for this coming semester of class and watched an episode of NCIS before I fell asleep. It was a rough day, but I have had worse. A friend made me smile when I turned to him with pleas of "When I am old and alone, come take me to a movie once a month! Don't let me be a hermit old lady with a walker and no one to check in on me from time to time!". Agent M gave me big hugs that day, and I really do like our apartment, in some ways more than the house. And, lucky gal that I am, a couple days later I was sitting in a KFC with a friend who is another single mom who is juggling work and school to make a better life for her and her sons. She was treating me to lunch because she had gotten approved for a student loan and wanted to celebrate. As we joked about living it up on cheap chicken meals and talked about the men in our lives, I realized that those rough days make all the other days just that much more wonderful.

He Said It Would Be Funny

So, he's been mentioned a bit. The Swede. Not explaining much on this one, other than he is a wonderful friend that I met about six months ago when he was visiting from Sweden with family.

While we were chatting online today, I asked him if I could write about him, or if it would be okay if he came up in my writings. He said sure, and that it would be funny. He was already mentioned in a paper I wrote right after we first met, and he knows of my blogging, but I never flat out got his okay to mention him. (Little did he know  he already had a nickname...but that's small potatoes at this point.)

So there's that, combined with me sending off an email to The Ex today letting him know what is up, and I can now blog about the surprise mentioned in this post (third bullet point from the bottom).

The Swede is coming for a visit. :)

He will get here the day after we get home from Vegas, late at night. That will give me about 24 hours to air out the house, unpack, do last minute cleaning, and get enough sleep, showering, and girl-time to look decent when I pick him up at 10pm. Plus, the usual stuff of getting Agent M to and from school, and then having dinner with my parents for Dad's birthday, and then leaving Agent M there for a sleepover while I go to pick up The Swede.

Agent M is excited also, thankfully. His main concerns were if The Swede would be going to his soccer game and making sure that no one was going to take his bed.

I'm excited. I'm nervous, but in an excited way. We have outfits that go together for Halloween, and lots of little plans, and as much as I want to yell with excitement from the roof - his quietness is rubbing off on me and I'm keeping this a little closer and quieter.

So for the next week, I'll be wearing a little Mona Lisa smile and quickly finishing up work around the house. Then a fun weekend in Vegas with family, then home and waiting for The Swede to arrive.

And when he gets here, I will have the biggest grin, this side of the world.





(I have a much less refined and less mellow post on this, below)

PLEASE READ THE ABOVE POST BEFORE THIS ONE!

So, I mentioned that The Swede is going to be here a week from tomorrow?

Eight days, people!

I have a car load of laundry to do between now and then - pillows, blankets, sheets, clothes - plus the mess that is my desk area to cram into the file cabinet neatly file away and sort. Plus dusting and cleaning every single inch of my "never really noticed just how big this place really is" townhouse.

Now, not all of the cleaning is because of the visit. In all honesty, I had gotten far behind on cleaning in the past few weeks with the whole immune-system going on a bender and trying to recoup. The sad part of that cycle though, is that part of the crash is due to my allergies getting bad. I am allergic to dust and cat dander. So - that means that I need to clean often or else I get really run down, sick, and then my immune system freaks out and attacks itself. Which leaves me worn out and slacking out on cleaning. Which leads to more dust and cat dander around the house. Which leads to me getting sicker. Which leads to me typing up long, run on paragraphs explaining the nasty cycle instead of me getting my bum off the bed and actually cleaning.

Ahem.

But yes, to reiterate - in about one week's time, Agent M and I will be on our way home from Las Vegas, and I will be praying that Suki has not stunk up the place while we were gone. In a little more than a week's time, I will be airing out the house, doing last minute errands, and trying to take a nap before picking Agent M up from school, spending the afternoon with him, coming home to shower and relax, and then zooming down the highway to pick up The Swede from the airport.

Oh, and the schedule for Spring 2012 classes is released that day, so somewhere in unpacking/airing out the house/trying to not explode from excitement and nerves, I will also need to sit down and plan out what I classes I will attempt to get into. Which reminds me that I need to fill out the FASFA this week.....

Eight days, people.

Five days left before Vegas.

Five days to clean away the dust bunnies, get enough sleep to make the dark circles under my eyes disappear, do all the laundry, run 15 errands, pack, and get my immune system back to working properly. Plus, I need to stay on top of writing (I'm on a bit of a roll, want to keep it that way), do the usual soccer/work/Mancub custody shuffle, and find a way to get my old car towed to a friend's scrap yard.

I'm going to need a whole lot of gummy bears.

Thank goodness I have this little guy to help me stay silly and grounded.