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.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Monday, April 23, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
NaBloPoMo Prompt of the Day: A Traumatic Event
Prompt of the Day:
Yeah, no.
Talk about one hell of a question.
Where to go with this one? Maybe my grandfather's death when I was a teen, or when I saw a boyfriend slit his wrist in front of me because I was scared of him and told him I wanted to break up, or how about my induced labor that took years to come to terms with, or the postpartum nightmare, or maybe the first time that person I was married to forced himself on me after drinking too much, or any of the numerous times afterwards when I would wear layers and layers to bed to try to prevent his unwanted attention. Or maybe when my mum had to have a sudden surgery and I faced her mortality for the first time. Or coming home with my son one day to find court summons on my front step, saying that The Ex thought of me as an unfit parent and wanted full custody of Agent M. Or maybe should I "describe the scenes surrounding" The Event that happened last year that I don't talk to anyone about, ever.
Yeah, there would be any number of things to choose from on this topic. But writing about them would give them breath. Give a bit of life to the dusty remains of memories that have left scars, some of which are more visible than others. Sometimes I bring the stories out, carefully handled and controlled like puppets, to illustrate a point or to share with someone who has their own stories. But pick one and expose it's details here? To be picked at, prodded, brought into the forefront and open to questions (and judgement) by anyone? Not today. Possibly never.
Instead, I will post photos today. Photos from the last two years that have make me smile. Of things that made me happy, people I care about, and memories that have given me hope. Snapshots that are silly, have some sort of story of their own, and in some way remind me that no matter what darkness I have met, there is always good laying in wait.
Maybe one day, I'll tell the stories that go with each one. :)
Saturday, November 5, 2011
NaBloPoMo: Day 4
Day 4 Prompt:
When you are writing, do you prefer to use a pen or a computer?
Me: "So, Agent M, when you write, do you prefer pens or typing on a computer?"
Agent M: "Typing on a computer, 'cuz then you can send it to someone, you can send it to who ever you want."
Me: "But you could make a letter and send it through the mail?"
Agent M: "But that takes longer, when you could just go on a computer, type all you want, and then send it. For a letter, you have to go alllll the way outside, just to put a letter in the letter box."
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Quick Post!
Run down of things missed or forgotten:
- After a month of waiting, I finally have a new mobile phone! The touch screen on my other had broken (on the day I bought a car, nonetheless) and I had to wait until my upgrade to get a new one. Thankfully, my parents let me borrow a mobile and the line they don't use often, so I at least had something while waiting.
- Oh, yes - I bought a car! Well, rather, I signed the papers to commit to paying for a car for the next few years. My old car has not run in a year, and it was far too much money to get it running with no guarantee that something else would break down. I finally spent a decent amount of time going over the finances, figured out what would be affordable, searched and researched for hours online, and then spent 7 hours at a dealership getting approved for financing. The guy who wrangled with the banks for me was awesome. I love having my own car again and Agent M was highly amused by it when I picked him up with it.
- As of August, it has been one year since I injured my shoulder, which resulted in weeks of physical therapy, countless MRIs and doctor appointments, surgery, and six months of time off work. I am fortunate that it hurts so much less now and to have most of the mobility back already. December will bring the 1 year post-surgery mark. I can't believe all that has happened in the last year! (A subject for a whole other post)
- I spoke with my guidance counselor (is that what they're called?) at the community college and we made a plan for the next semester. I will be taking a maths class for the first time in over 10 years. I am more than a little nervous about this.
- When I went onto the school website to check something after the counseling appointment, I discovered that one of my professors from last semester had died about a month prior. I was shocked and it took me two days to get over it. He had been key to getting through the last semester and taming a few of demons that I has battling. It took a lot in me to not call two of my other professors from last semester (who each had a huge impact on me) and make them swear never to die. (Again, whole other post on the subject, to come)
- I am STILL not divorced. Not amused by this.
- In 3 weeks, I will be celebrating my Dad's birthday in Vegas, and then coming home to a wonderful to-be-announced-later secret. All I am saying for now is that I am over the moon happy and have been cleaning and working like a mad woman to have things together for the end of this month.
- I am 8lbs away from my pre-pregnancy/pre-surgery weight (they were the same), and 15 lbs away from my post-marriage-dissolving/pre-living on my own weight. I have not made any drastic changes in my diet and I am just as lazy as ever, in my opinion, so this is a major accomplishment for me after getting back up to 205lbs after my surgery.
And to close out things:
- Agent M is beyond awesome! Blaring the horn on this one! I have gotten a call from his teacher, plus a letter home, tell me how great he is doing in class and that he is an excellent student. His abilities in soccer are growing and getting more and more defined with each practice. I am so proud of him and each day I am so happy to have him in my life. He really inspires me to be the best person that I can be, and amazes me with the person he is becoming.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Love is in the Air
As Valentine's waltzes it's way closer and closer, I hadn't given much thought about it until today in the aisles at Target, where every department seemed to have it's own red, white, and pink display of love and all things chocolate.
When I was still with Agent M's dad, we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day. I never received a Valentine's gift or card from him, and don't remember doing either for him. My own parents did not celebrate the day when I was growing up, so I didn't think much of it aside from the occasional ping of jealousy when I would hear what friends had done with their loved ones on that day. On my part, it wasn't a dislike for the day, just simply believed that love should be shared every day. Eventually, I just didn't feel into it and wanted to thumb my nose at all the sugar sweet decorations each year as they came out, feeling they were there to personally taunt me that things in my marriage were amiss.
But then we had Agent M, and eventually Agent M hit kindergarten. Cue the 180 on my opinion. I wanted to decorate, buy Valentines for everyone we knew, and make cookies in the shape of hearts. This was not to be, as Agent M's dad and I were separated at this point and money was tight. Being a class room helper, I was happy to settle on helping 28 kids glue tiny paper hearts to hand drawn cards, and was over joyed to get not only a bag full of sweet things from Agent M, but also two Valentine's personally given to me by the two kids I worked with the most in class. Here I had been feeling unloved and very much single, but those little tokens of love written in sideways letters and delivered with big hugs around my waist made me feel renewed.
Talking about the day with a friend tonight, I kept trying to explain my feelings for Valentine's Day but could not peg my feelings for it just right. Finally, it hit me - I hate how the day focuses on the romantic aspect of love. More than the holiday itself, I hate how it has become marketed to single out single people more so on this day - why should a day claiming to inspire love cause such sadness? Couples are expected to plan big dates and give lavish gifts. But what about the love of friendship? What about the people who have decided not to date, or who still feel the sting of heartbreak? What about the people who have lost their loved ones to old age or illness? No bag of chocolate nor Hallmark card addresses these audiences.
This presents the dilemma of how to celebrate the holiday with Agent M with genuine love without feeling like a big faker. My friend made a joke about me just not wanting to be "a grumpy old fart" and that's when the heart shaped light bulb went on over my head. When I was a teenager, my grandmother had spent some time in a nursing home. As we visited, I was always concerned about the people who did not get visitors. My friend's comment made me think of those people (not exactly in the most polite way, but nonetheless...), and how easy it should be to contact a local nursing home or retirement community and see about bringing by some simple Valentine's treats and smiles. I haven't had the chance to fully look into it as I type this, but this idea has gotten me thinking about other little ways to cultivate love that day. I plan for us to make a few phone calls and emails to family that I struggle to stay in touch with. Agent M and I can make small cards with messages of love and deliver them with homemade treats to the women's shelter. Maybe even take a cue from Operation Beautiful and leave some post-it notes with words of encouragement in unexpected places. More than anything though, I want to show Agent M that even when your heart has been hurt, love will heal it and love can be cultivated all around us. I want him to go to bed that night knowing he is loved.
When I was still with Agent M's dad, we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day. I never received a Valentine's gift or card from him, and don't remember doing either for him. My own parents did not celebrate the day when I was growing up, so I didn't think much of it aside from the occasional ping of jealousy when I would hear what friends had done with their loved ones on that day. On my part, it wasn't a dislike for the day, just simply believed that love should be shared every day. Eventually, I just didn't feel into it and wanted to thumb my nose at all the sugar sweet decorations each year as they came out, feeling they were there to personally taunt me that things in my marriage were amiss.
But then we had Agent M, and eventually Agent M hit kindergarten. Cue the 180 on my opinion. I wanted to decorate, buy Valentines for everyone we knew, and make cookies in the shape of hearts. This was not to be, as Agent M's dad and I were separated at this point and money was tight. Being a class room helper, I was happy to settle on helping 28 kids glue tiny paper hearts to hand drawn cards, and was over joyed to get not only a bag full of sweet things from Agent M, but also two Valentine's personally given to me by the two kids I worked with the most in class. Here I had been feeling unloved and very much single, but those little tokens of love written in sideways letters and delivered with big hugs around my waist made me feel renewed.
Talking about the day with a friend tonight, I kept trying to explain my feelings for Valentine's Day but could not peg my feelings for it just right. Finally, it hit me - I hate how the day focuses on the romantic aspect of love. More than the holiday itself, I hate how it has become marketed to single out single people more so on this day - why should a day claiming to inspire love cause such sadness? Couples are expected to plan big dates and give lavish gifts. But what about the love of friendship? What about the people who have decided not to date, or who still feel the sting of heartbreak? What about the people who have lost their loved ones to old age or illness? No bag of chocolate nor Hallmark card addresses these audiences.
This presents the dilemma of how to celebrate the holiday with Agent M with genuine love without feeling like a big faker. My friend made a joke about me just not wanting to be "a grumpy old fart" and that's when the heart shaped light bulb went on over my head. When I was a teenager, my grandmother had spent some time in a nursing home. As we visited, I was always concerned about the people who did not get visitors. My friend's comment made me think of those people (not exactly in the most polite way, but nonetheless...), and how easy it should be to contact a local nursing home or retirement community and see about bringing by some simple Valentine's treats and smiles. I haven't had the chance to fully look into it as I type this, but this idea has gotten me thinking about other little ways to cultivate love that day. I plan for us to make a few phone calls and emails to family that I struggle to stay in touch with. Agent M and I can make small cards with messages of love and deliver them with homemade treats to the women's shelter. Maybe even take a cue from Operation Beautiful and leave some post-it notes with words of encouragement in unexpected places. More than anything though, I want to show Agent M that even when your heart has been hurt, love will heal it and love can be cultivated all around us. I want him to go to bed that night knowing he is loved.
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