Like a Badge

The divorce was final on January 14, the same day my sweet old man cat died.  He was the cat I had insisted we adopt into our fold after we bought our house and some time had passed of him running to us after school like clockwork everyday.  I loved him so much.  It was cancer.  Cause, you know, fucking cancer...it was a heartbreaking loss for the kids and I.  

I didn't know my divorce was final until a few weeks later when the car insurance guy wanted to remove me from the policy.  So both my (ex)husband and the car insurance guy found out I was divorced before I did.  I will admit there was a tear inside (and a pissed off call to my lawyer), but I think there were only four tears.  And I haven't cried again since.

He doesn't know our cat died.  I know he's happy to be rid of me (I could absolutely see his family throwing a party, probably happened); but I think he would be quite sad to know our friend died.  I do still believe that he is mostly good.  He is too unfortunately a great big bullshitter and a coward, too, and that really gets in the way of all the other good qualities of a person.  So it seems.

He is a quitter, and a liar, and a deserter, and he hurt my kids while knowing better.  I feel these thoughts, and the love only lingers a little still.  Mostly I just feel myself growing stronger by the moment.

Surviving

3/4 of the school year, almost

With the most challenging students of my career;

A sick child and months of tests,

All the appointments;

Juggling and hoping so hard nothing falls;

Being divorced- I mean, someone else doing the divorcing, and you are the one who is left,

And especially the void of where he used to be in this house;

So many sad dreams, almost nearly gone now;

Celibacy;

Then Christmas;

The first snow storm, and the second, too;

Single parenthood,

Now Death.

Everyday I learn 

Since you left,

I tried to nurse our sick cat back to health and failed.  I had to teach my son about hurting so that a soul you love can be free.

I have bucked against heartbreak in these months since you left, 

in my damaged child

in the emptiness of our home 

in the broken pieces of a future

You promised.

I have dug my nails in and I am climbing to a place you will never see.  We weren't meant to have forever, and I can see that now.  You can't go where I am going.

One day soon, all that will remain is pity for you, if there is anything at all.

I wear each day like a badge now.  

The One Thing I Had

I signed the marriage dissolution agreement today.

Like the first time I signed divorce paperwork, I felt nothing.  

I've come a long way since dreaming of him every night and waking up in disbelief and heartache.  I've come nearly all the way in my mind, believing again that I am so much better off and most certainly better than him.  

I saw him on the 4th of this month.  I had made it 6 months without him, and I grow stronger by the day.  I always told him that I could not make it without him, in an effort to reassure him; but it was never true.  He knew it, too.  I was always too strong for him.  And the one before him.  I am unrelenting when it comes to my children.

Yes, it is the hardest time of my whole life just like he said It would be, and I am utterly abandoned but not alone.  I grow strong from the incredible women around me, my mother and my sister.  It was always us.  It will always be us.  And now my children, too.  When I think of that brief time in my life when I felt, completely, in love, I remember that the cost was at my children's expense.  I could never do it.  I never did.  I never will.

He asked it always; he threatened it, really.  What would I do without him?

I still play those conversations in my head: what awful things his family must say, the way he's spun his side of it.  Oh to be a fly on the wall after our mediation when I stormed in with my dark hair and my demands.  And I got everything I asked for, immediately.  My mother said it best, "who exactly does he think he is fucking with?"

Today is our anniversary.  We were married by a Justice of the Peace in our Chuck Taylors on the day the world was supposed to end (again).  It just worked out that I signed the marriage dissolution today.  And still, all these painful things before me, I just kind of felt nothing.

There was a printed email waiting for me after I signed the MDA with all the account information he had that I needed.  I walked to my car and looked it over...he refers to me in it as his soon to be ex-wife.  Yeah, I bet he can't wait.

The one thing I had was that I felt nothing.  But he feels glad. 

Some Day This Pain Will Be Useful to You

The mediation is tomorrow.

As the Days Turn Into the Nights

I've now moved into the part where there's no fear that the phone will ring, no hope that the phone will ring.

I'm trying desperately to make peace with the idea that there's no love- in that way- for me.  I am loved completely in my life, and I tell myself everyday.  That this way is even better...I do what I want the second I want to do it, there's no hassling with others' old boring stories that drag on and on, no mind fucks, no more "there's nothing wrong (I just need space)!"

I loved him to my soul and getting over those way down deep whimpers is the hardest part...I loved him all the way down to the place where I would have jumped in front of a moving train, would have committed any crime to save him.  He was my family.  I was certain we would have each others' backs into forever.  He betrayed me in every way; I remained loyal all the way down.

Knowing everything now that came to pass, knowing now how the end was written, I believe less in my delusions of what it was and more in the facts.  My son is seeing a psychologist again, and that has everything to do with being abandoned by the second father figure who said he would never leave.  I'll never understand it as long as I live so fuck the memories of him tucking me into bed and telling me I'm his princess.  Fuck the feeling of being safe in someone's arms.  Fuck being loved during the holidays.

Our mediation is in one week.  It's been six months since he left.  I'm terrified to see him.  I dyed my hair dark.  I think I'm going to be a huge bitch, and then the kids are going to have a great Christmas.

An Open Letter to My Second Ex-Husband

I want you to know that yes, it's a lot without you.  Just as you said it would be.  Right now, it's a lot between the first six weeks of the school year (when you left, I imagined life as far ahead as parent/teacher conferences, and that's it, and now we're here), my son now suffering from what's being referred to as "chronic pain" because it's gone on so long (due in part to this divorce?  Psychological factors?  I don't know, and it's killing me), as well as my daughter's insane high school schedule.  

But I'm doing it, asshole.  I'm doing it all.

You didn't think I could, but you left your wife and her children so who cares what a shitty little bitch thinks.

Mailbox

I do play out the scenario in my head: he doesn't know what he was thinking, how could he do such a thing, he would do anything to have me back.  It happens, always, with a phone call.

But even in my dreams, I have to beg him to come back mostly.  I've given hell to his mother and his sister there, but I always give my pride away easily to him in my dreams.

I know the phone won't ringing.  I know he'll never talk to me as a person.  He just slinked away like a snake.

I'm getting back to that place where fuck him, who does he think he is, anyway?  I GAVE myself away to him, and he never deserved me.

Sure, I am strong of mind and will.  Sure, I don't give in when I really really stand for it; but my fight was always for my kids.  There's no way I'm the asshole.

I tried so hard, though, this second time around.  I did try so hard not to make the same mistakes.  I did not take him for granted, I never betrayed him not even for a second, and I loved him the best I could...I tried to change myself.  I did.  I heard what he said, and I changed myself.  And I was completely fooled into believing that I was loved in return.

And then I was left

Which is really cruel, truly.

So fuck that dude.

And time has passed now so I know in my heart and ****soul**** (he didn't believe in souls...red flag...) that I was left by a cowardly bullshitter...so who cares now.  I'm almost there to 100% believing it.

But still play around with the idea of getting a phone call.

There's just silence there though.

He went to see a lawyer before ever even talking to me.  No big blowout.  Just decided he was "done" and left without eve so much as saying goodbye to the kids.  (Gosh, I must be pretty scary for him to run and hide to his mama.)

You know, every relationship is complicated, but the least that can be said of me is that I gave him the gift of honesty.  Maybe I was too real; but I believed in our till death do we part.  I was real because it was VERY real to me.

I think that's the residue that exists in my dreams.  I think that's the thing that makes me wonder what I would even do if the phone rang, after everything.

Another correspondence from the lawyer today.  I knew that would pop back up...the lawyers have been handling it...my lawyer said I'd hear from her when I hear from her...  Lawyers tend to draw things out.  I've checked the mailbox everyday ready for it.  I only saw the corner of the letter and knew that today was the day.  It seems the mailbox is getting all the real action.

Joy

I had to wake up at 5:20 on a Saturday to get my big girl to school for a band trip.  I'm so excited for her; it's been a lot of hard work.  I'm also pretty sad to spend a weekend without her.  I just prefer having my babies close.  My little ducklings following closely behind.

(That's two fold: 1. missing my daughter 2. waking up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday)

It was a long week, and I got less sleep as I went.  The beginning of the year is so hard for teachers (and students).  To aggravate the situation a little more, I work at a Title I school with limited resources and its own set of challenging situations.  A student assaulted me at school this week, and it's just not that shocking in a school like mine.

He slammed the door on my wrist in anger on the way out of the classroom.  It got very swollen very quickly.  I'm pretty tough, but I was very encouraged by the many many teacher-moms around me to file for OJI.  (I never go to the doctor.  Really, never.)  The doctor sent me home with a bandaged wrist and a slight enough concern to schedule a follow-up appointment for a week later.  I really thought I would end up canceling it.  But I'm having trouble in my hand now, and it's just not right.  There's a pinching and sickening feeling there.  Of course, it's my right (writing/typing/guitar playing) hand.

This child that hurt me is having so much trouble.  I've had special students before, but this one takes the cake.  Of course, this is the year of my second divorce.

My son is having his own trouble at school.  He always has.  There's just no way that any of these years (7 left) will ever be different.  I've always waited for a break with him; I know now it's not coming.  I've emailed his middle school teachers every day, and I imagine we will be progressing to the next level of meetings soon.  They aren't abiding by the IEP I fought like hell for, for all the years leading up to now.  They have no idea who they're messing with.

For the past couple of days, he's been getting sick, too.  I've been struggling with allergies, literally barking up a lung.  It's hard enough when we're all healthy. 

When it rains, it pours.  It pours on down.

The laundry isn't all done.  It just never is.  The floors need to be cleaned.  And I blew through too much money this month, especially eating out two nights this week after the injury.  I got everything else done, but only just barely.  I thought I would make this look easier...

I don't come home to the black hole my second divorce has made, though I feel the threat of it.  I've been coming home to my kids, and I work my ass of for them because it's not their fault.  I try to find time to play my guitar and dwell in possibility.  I will not be defeated. I will not lie down but instead rise up to become the most incredible version of myself.  I choose to grow strong from this life.

I still have my joy.  

(And every once in awhile, life throws you a bone.  I got a letter in the mail this week from the District Attourney's Office.  Child Support found #1!)

Telling My Lawn Guy Way Too Much

It wasn't very long after, and our lawn guy showed up to mow.  He told me that he had been paid.  I talked to him about dropping the service down to 2x monthly; he already knew about the divorce.  My husband had said more about it to the lawn guy than he had said to me.

#2 paid him for the month of May.  I assumed he mentioned the divorce to let our guy know he wouldn't be seeing him again.

That awkward exchange: the lawn guy saying it was none of his business and he wouldn't take sides.  That terrible moment when I had proof that he was telling people he would never be my lover nor my friend again.  It hurt me so bad.

Today, late with my check, the lawn guy showed up again.  It's been that kind of week, and I now know it's not going to all go seamlessly.  I had bigger dreams this summer for the way things would be.  I told myself to get a stamp and send a check and not make that man think I can't handle my shit.  But there he was.

I paid the man and apologized, and he was very nice.   He asked about things randomly.  Was the divorce final?  He didn't seem to be partial to my husband after all.  He said that when he paid him last, he said he might still see him.

Wait.  What?

And in my stupid heart, I felt that flutter of hope. It was the same flutter that I feel when the phone rings.  The flutter that fuels my dreams.  

Did he think he would be moving back?  Even for a moment?  Was there ever any hope?

It only took a moment and it occurred to me, of course, he did not know if I'd stay.    He was preparing for the possibility that I would be moving...not that he would be coming back to me.  

The lawn guy breaks my heart every time.

A New Year

School has started again.  August is the toughest month.  Tougher than even May, and I didn't know how bad it would be.  I'm getting through it on my own.  I don't have a choice.

When my best friend was here, I could breathe again.  Inhale, exhale; I remembered myself.  It helped to laugh with her about what a fucking pussy he is.  Screw him, after all, you know!?  I was a good woman fed a thousand lies.  I've survived a thousand broken promises now.

When she left, though, and I was alone again, the bottom dropped out once again.  But only for a moment...here I am, managing everything all by myself.  Every dinner, every packed lunch, every trip to the store; the kids have everything they could need.  I am handling my son's special needs with a peace inside me I've never had: we will make it.  Forever now I will know I was only down and out in my bed, wallowing with this pain, for a single weekend.  I've been the best version of myself since he's left.

There's things though that I can't admit to anyone...like the dreams I still have that tear me apart.  The home phone rang yesterday and it was his generic company number on the caller ID.  It could have been him: they all show up that way.  My heart raced straight out of my chest.  The aftermath of the adrenaline made me sick.  I answered it so quickly.  If I'm honest with myself I know I wanted it to be him; and I would have given anything to touch him again.  He's not quite dead to me.  He's just been dying for three months.  Almost there in this brand new year.

The Second Divorce is Very Much Worse than the First

This is the most pitiful of all stories.  I'm so beyond Bridget Jones and Diane Lane movies.

It's pretty humiliating and awful to have two failed marriages.  The first can be written off as a foolish mistake.  The second one is chronic failure.  

#2's sister's husband cheated on her frequently during the time I knew his family.  He was generally a smuck, even making me feel uncomfortable around him on occasion.  It was pretty pathetic watching her continue to take him back over and over.  I didn't respect her for it.  #2 had this vision that she and I would be super close, but I just couldn't.  I didn't respect her.  When asked about their constant separations and whether or not she wanted more for herself, she's say, "but it would be my second divorce."

I understand now.

Dreams and the Parking Lot at Walmart

I had a terrible migraine so I went back to bed after dropping my little girl at high school for band camp.  School is starting soon so I go back to work soon, and it's probably been the hardest week since the first after he left.  Life goes on, and in so many ways, I'm stuck.

What I should remember most from now until forever is that he walked out on me. He left.  He couldn't deal, and he turned his back on me, leaving as he did in a huff and saying he only "did" love me.  And that's it.  For the rest our lives.

But still, from the pain in my heart and head, he appears in my dreams.  At first, I'd beg him to come back or just fall into his lap in a puddle of tears and he'd stroke my hair.  Relieved mostly to be near him again.  Now, though, he sends me texts in my dreams, saying he's so sorry, what a terrible mistake, and that he should never listen to his mother.  It only comes when I sleep because I hope for it every single time my phone makes a sound.

It was so much easier to lose someone before text messages.

There's also looking for his vehicle everywhere in town.  I think I parked in front of him at the Walmart that separates us.  I was school shopping with my son, getting it done and generally being more on top of it than I've ever been because fuck him: these will be the happiest years of my life up ahead...but tell it to my heart when there's no notes on my car, and we're still divorcing when I wake up.