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.

It's Not Just Me.

Yeah, yeah. I started school a couple weeks ago and pretty much forgot I had a blog. Forgive me.

Onwards.

When I first left Agent M's Dad, I only knew a couple other parents who didn't "make it". Literally, like, 2 other people. I felt like a failure, but I also knew that what was going on was not right and that if I didn't leave, it would only get worse. It was a decision I had to make and I am proud that I had the strength to do it.

I still felt like I was on uncharted territory for the first few months though. I'd silently scan crowds of parents for other parents that were "solo-looking". When celebrity marriages crumbled, I took note and consoled myself that even with their beauty, money, and star-lit lives, they didn't "make it" either. I needed to know that it wasn't just me or that I had not done enough.

Slowly, over the past couple of years, I have seen and heard of more and more friends and friends of friends unhappy in marriages and figure that is just how marriage is, or cheating on each other because they are unhappy but don't want to go through the divorce process, or separate temporarily and get back together years later, and even a few who divorced in record time. I don't know if it is just that I am more aware, slightly tuned to notice these things more than the average person would notice, but I notice it and let the news linger each time. No matter who the "bad guy" (or gal) is, I still feel for both sides usually. It's not a fun process, it's painful, and it brings up a lot of uncomfortable questions. It makes me think of my own still on-going divorce, and wonder over what I could have done differently and what lies ahead still.

For some silly reason, celebrity breakups get to me. I am not a celebrity stalker, I don't own a t.v., and the most "gossip" I get is from reading magazine headlines at work, and then maybe an article or two if I see someone I think is talented mentioned. So I'm not talking about the Bachelorette-known-you-for-8-months breakups. I mean the big ones. Heidi Klum and Seal, John Mellencamp and his wife Elaine, Shakira and Antonio de la Ru. People who had built long standing lives with each other. When it was announced that Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed were separated, a friend and I sent messages back and forth to each other that there was no hope for love in this world if those two couldn't "make it".

But even more of a punch comes when it is closer to home. When it is someone who is a real person, but still slightly above the rest of us. Local well-knowns, bloggers that I have read for years. So, it was with a lot of sadness when I read last night that Dooce is the latest one hit with the baseball bat to the stomach that is separation/divorce. See, she is in that borderland between "everyday person" and "celebrity". She is famous to me, and many others, and yet, she is totally human at the same time. She is real in her posts, doesn't hide the gritty stuff, and celebrates the joyous. She is someone I can picture waving to or chatting with here and there if our kids went to the same school. I feel for her because I know how hard that bat hits, and how hard it is to pick yourself up when it keeps swinging. Having someone "like her" announce that now she is part of The Club brings it closer to home. The reality that no matter how awesome two people are, no matter how great their lives might seem, sometimes it just doesn't work.

It makes me scared to let myself fall in love again. Things are a little choppy between the Swede and I right now - between school, work, and time zones, it is hard to chat with each other some days, we have had a couple big hills to overcome lately, and we have some big things to talk about on the horizon. The reality of us is that one of us would need to plan to move to another country if we want to make a decent go of this - and until Agent M is 18 years old, moving out of country is probably not going to be an option for me. That leaves the ball in his court and the idea of asking someone to move across the world for something that might not work out terrifies me. I have a horrible habit of wanting to flee the relationship when things feel this serious, but, I have to say he is a trooper and he does not let me give up. I adore him for it. (I also slightly question his sanity, for putting up with such a nutty American girl...)

I think it is harder after you have been through the heart-wringer to trust that you can do it again. When you have ripped out your heart, or had it ripped out in a fit of rage, or had it quietly shattered, or just had the flame in it go out, it is hard to even want to pursue someone again. I have craved being part of a cute, happy family, but I am terrified to have another ten years end up in a mess of his-debt/her-debt and resentful words spoken behind backs. The small comfort I find is in the others who have been there and tried again, or who are figuring out how to pick up the pieces with me. Seeing that is not just me, that this can happen to anyone, is a reminder that there are things out of our control at times and love is anything but controlled in the first place. I know it is not just me who is hesitant, scared to let someone get that close again. I know that even with the bills paid, the house clean, and the kid well-fed, at the end of the day it comes down to the two people involved. And with that in mind, I just keep hoping that every time I get scared, The Swede will still be there to tell me I am being silly.

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. 

Mutual Benefits

There are so many days when I just want to make a deal with a well-paid friend to get married, and in exchange for me cleaning house, cooking, and doing the 'housewife" stuff, they would fully support me and Agent M. I would then have time to get my own craft/freelancing stuff really going, thus eventually bringing in my own income as well. It would be a great setup - they would always know they are coming home to a clean house and dinner ready for them, and I would be able to do all the crafty things I have the supplies and ideas for. Since it would be a friend, we could each date as we want, there would be no jealousy, and chances are we'd get along well since we're just friends. None of the "Honey, you spend too much time playing video games" or "Darling, do you still find me attractive?" issues that couples have. And I'm not looking to free-load, since I'd work my tail off around the house to make it a wonderful home, and I'd work hard to get a shop going and bring in income for my personal expenses. This little day dream seems perfect...

...and then I remember that all of my friends are just as broke as me. Hahaha. Sigh.

Roller Coaster

Today has been one of "those" days.

The type of day that began with Agent M and I both waking up early, hanging out on my bed for a little bit, and then casually getting ready to take him to school. No rush, no hustle. Dropped him off to school and made it back home by the time we usually are rushing out the door.

The type of day that had a long To-Do list, but nothing too time consuming. In the last few hours I've called and made an appointment with my college class counselor, called and got a scholarship so that Agent M can take chess classes at his school again, talked to The Swede a little bit before he went out for the night, caught up on reading emails, and sent off an email to The Ex. I was getting ready to dye my hair, and figured I'd go run a few errands before picking up Agent M from school.

Then the phone rang.

Sparing the details, the phone call was concerning an errand I had to run today. By the time the call ended, I was feeling antsy, angry, stressed, and full of money worries. So, I did what any close-to-30-year-old would do when feeling that way.

I called my mum.

I vented. I stressed out. And she calmed me. She didn't take it personal when I said no to every option she presented, and she was kind when I apologized and acknowledged that those were some pretty good options actually.

When I got off the phone with her, I dyed my hair, called my attorney to touch base and see if I'm any closer to actually being done with the divorce. More confirmation and encouragement from them. Still feeling antsy and full of "Fight-or-flight" frustration, I went downstairs and ate a slice of swiss cheese. Contemplating and planning my next seven moves with each bite and chew. I ran back upstairs as fast as I could, plunked out these words, and am going to put plans into action. I'm not going to let the fear of the next moves scare me into submission. I've got so much good going on, and today has so much potential for awesome. One phone call is one phone call. I'm the one in charge of how it effects the rest of the day. I will keep telling myself that today, as the plans unfold, if I begin to falter.

Today has been a roller coaster and it's barely past noon.

Silly, Silly Girlface.

I am an unpartnered mum, a college student, a 28-year-old woman, a soon-to-be-divorced former housewife, a daughter, an aunt, a cousin, and a friend. I have plates to keep spinning and a full life to keep maintained.

I am also a very, very silly girl. 

When I am thinking - no more want for something, no more hopes for something, focus on school, focus on work, focus on your health, focus on yourself...

Something unexpected comes up and says - are you sure? Is that all you really want? Because, there is this...

And even though I know the reality of things, the logistics, and there is a part of me saying "No, it could never, ever be true. It never turns out true, it is not what you think." there is a bigger part of me saying "Please let it be true, even in all it's foolishness. Please, let it be. I want this, please let this be for me too."

I deny it, even though it is plain as sunshine and can be seen by anyone. No, it is ridiculous. No, there's no logic to it.

Then something echoes back, says it is true. Says it is the same as what my inner most self  is hoping. Says the same hopes are out there, the same hopes about me. 

And I feel like a silly, silly girl. For blushing, and grinning, and wanting so badly just to be near that something. 

It's foolish, it's ridiculous, there is no logic to it. But it is sweet as blood oranges, and quiet, and very much there.

This is something I didn't think I had in me and thought I did not want in me. It scares me, because feeling like this is an opening to get hurt. And that fear, that hope, all mixed together, makes me feel all the more silly. 

Miles and miles of feeling silly. 

And I will keep feeling silly, even when I am told that it is cute. I will keep spinning my plates, more focused, more determined. With this little something, tucked quietly away, all my own to quietly smile at. 

Because even if it is silly, it makes me smile and shows me there is more. More hope than hurt, more gentleness than tears. And life is never, ever as expected.