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Time Heals

7 Aug

time heals

Exhausted after a very long day, a very long week, a very long few months. When was it that SG and I broke up? It feels like forever ago. Sometimes time does heal all wounds. Or maybe it wasn’t as big a wound as I thought.

Isn’t it weird that you can be so utterly obsessed with something, or someone, and then wake up one morning and just be over it? I will always cherish my time with SG. He came into my life like nothing less than a miracle, and gave me everything I needed at the time. But I’m in a different place now, and the things that I need, that I long for in a relationship – I cannot get from him. And there you have it.

I’ve been drowning myself in work, and pulling out Carlos (my new vibrant purple purchase) on occasion to release some stress. I’ve never owned a vibrator before, and I have to admit, it’s really a huge improvement in the quality of my life. No strings attatched, no long talks, no sleeping together, no where-is-this-going mornings. Just orgasms whenever I want them, however I want them.

And that’s what I’ve been doing. Drowning in the buzz of everyday life is my way of healing. And I am. Gradually.

My sweet boy has started calling me papa. Yes, I realize I’m his mom. But it’s the most darling thing ever, really. He also calls his grandma papa, as well as basically, every other adult that he’s fond of. He’s also started running, and he’s been climbing like crazy on the sofas and the coffee table, and chairs around the house. His evergy is soothing, I look at him in his crazed search of something to climb on, and I know that everything is going to be alright.

Nex week I’m taking some time off to spend with him. We’ll be travelling with my family and sleeping over at a friend’s house in the country. I look forward to shutting off my computer and my mind, with the hopes that I’ve healed enough to deal with the stillness and solitude of me and my boy, quality time.

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Back to My Future

31 May

Back to the Future

Baby has been sick this week, and I was home with him, cleaning his vomit, coaxing him to drink water and consoling all 11 kilos of him in my arms for hours… This morning, when he finally went down for his nap, I collapsed in bed and fell asleep at once.

Suddenly, I was on the set of Back to the Future, and it was being filmed. I wasn’t really taking part in the movie, but I was more than an observer, it’s like I was an extra, just there. I remember thinking to myself, hey, I’ve seen this, it’s a great movie. Yes, I know that’s weird since it was just being filmed, but you know, it’s a dream. Then Baby woke up and nap time was over.

This past month has been a trip back to the past for me, and it hasn’t been easy. I know I’m having a hard time when I have a need to blog every single day, and I’ve had times like that. But I also know I’m having a horrible time when I don’t blog at all, and I haven’t been. I was doing much better, getting used to my new life as a single mom, thinking about the future, making plans, living as I wanted to live. This couple’s therapy thing with BD is really getting to me. It’s making me feel like I’m regressing. I’m sad again, I feel less in control of my life, I get to the end of every day feeling like I need a drink, or make that three. Last night I stared at the TV for an hour. I know most people do that on a regular basis, but I don’t. It wasn’t even a show I enjoyed, it was just some stupid reality show that I hate and find degrading towards women.

I’ve made a decision to keep this up for two months (one down, one to go), and I hope I get what I’m looking for at the end of this process: closure, certainty, confidence that I’m doing the right thing. But in the meantime, I’m craving that future that just a short while ago seemed so close and now seems farther than ever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1i5coU-0_Q

 

Late Nights and Business Trips

4 May

silver lining

BD went on another business trip. This time he made sure it would be no longer than ten days, because last time, when he was away for three weeks, his four month old baby hardly recognized him when he got back. In June he’s going again, and it sounds like there’s going to be another trip coming up at the end of the summer. I get that his job requires travelling, I do. I also get that he has bosses and can’t just do whatever he wants. Still, if it were me, and my marriage was – not falling apart – but rather had already fallen apart, and I was facing my one final chance to make things right with the woman I love, who is the mother of my child, and who has decided miraculously, kindly, to grant me two months of “working at it”, even though I don’t deserve them, if it were me, I would do everything in my power to avoid going away on business three times in three months.

The weird thing is that I’m not upset about it. I actually don’t really care that much. I think it was just too much work to care all the time about all of his stupid mistakes, so I just stopped. When he told me he was going away and that there was another trip coming up next month, I just thought to myself – Fine. Go.

The clock is ticking. I gave BD two months to see if there is any point for us to try and get back together. I am fully aware that our problems will not be solved in two months, but I do hope to gain knowledge on whether or not it’s worth trying. I stopped my life, put everything on hold, committed to two meetings a week, to therapy, to opening up my mind, my heart, to the idea of forgiving him, and I am willing to carry this out for two moths exactly. I’m not  giving it a second more than that. I just can’t.

If BD really wants me back – he’s going to have to prove to me that I can trust him again. But he’s also going to have to convince me that it’ll be worthwhile for me to trust him, that I will gain something from investing the time, energy, and vulnerability into making things right with him. I really don’t see myself going through all of that emotional turmoil, dissecting everything that’s wrong between us, arguing, crying, opening up to him again –  just to remain a single mom, to be home alone with our son while he’s working late hours, nights, and weekends and going away every month or two. If that’s what the deal is, I’m taking a pass. If that’s all he has to offer me, I’m going to wait until I find someone who has more to offer.

A Silver Lining?

2 May

silver lining

I feel like shit. This is terrible. Fuck.

I spent this week watching my Louis CK, eating junk, and not getting any work done. Really the only parts of my week that I feel proud of, the only parts that make me feel that I’m a normal functioning adult, are when I’m with my boy. Taking him to day care. Playing at the park. Taking a bath. Having dinner. That I can do. It actually makes me feel better, doing that. It reminds me of my purpose. Life’s not all a load of crap, there’s this beautiful thing in my life, this treasure, that looks at me and smiles and drools, and climbs and pinches and tugs at my hair like I’m his giant toy. Pretty soon he’s going to start calling me mom, and that’ll be insane. Wow.

BUT, when I’m not taking care of my little treasure, that’s when I remember stuff. I remember how bad it was when BD left and how I swore I would never let anyone hurt me like that again. And I wonder if I”m a big idiot for agreeing to go to therapy with him, when all I feel for him is anger. I remember how SG made me happy and how I ended it because we didn’t want the same things from life. I remember how he said things to me that showed me that he really listened to me and understood me. And I remember how I sometimes felt that BD never really got me. How he’d say things that had the subtext of – money equals success and I how I didn’t like that. How he was always late and how it made me feel like I didn’t matter to him. How he had taken his ring off two months before he moved out and let me think he’d lost it, when really – he just didn’t want to wear it anymore. SG would never do that. He’d tell me the truth.

I’m not saying I want SG back, even though I do miss him terribly. So much that it makes my chest hurt. But I know it wouldn’t have lasted. I’m saying, well, that it sucks. That it hurts. That I feel more angry at BD than I did when I had another man in my life. That I feel less hopeful that it’ll work out with him. Honestly, I think a part of me wants this to fail. A part of me just wants to be free to find my next SG, someone sensitive, insightful and happy, but this time someone who wants the same things out of life as me.

I’ll say this though, and maybe it can be the silver lining of this gloomy post: Despite the pain I’m in now, I have no regrets. I’m not sorry I let BD go and didn’t fight for him to stay. If I’d put up a fight, we might have gone to therapy sooner, we might have worked things out, we might not be on our way to a divorce. But it would have been awful, I wouldn’t be able to live with the feeling that I had pressured him to stay when he wanted to go. I’d always doubt that he really wanted to be with us.

And I’m not sorry I let myself love SG. If I had had my shield up, it could have just been a fling, something light to distract me and then exit my life with no real damage. But no, I got more out of loving SG than I lost from saying goodbye to him.

 

 

Texting Goodbye

30 Apr

message

“I had a talk with BD today. I agreed to try two months of therapy together. I don’t know if it’ll do any good but I’m giving it a chance. I remember you said that there are no good or bad decisions, only the choices we make and life that follows. I wanted to say thank you for coming into my life at such a meaningful time, and teaching me to be open and trusting again, and reminding me just how happy I could be. Maybe we’ll meet again some day, but in the meantime I’m going to try hard not to call or text, so I can really figure out where things are going, even though I know it’ll be hard. I also just had to tell you that Baby finally figured out how to put the round peg in that bucket you got him. What a clever boy. Goodbye Skating Guy.”

“Remember that therapy is just the beginning and you will have to do all the really hard work on your own. Be strong and eat lots of tomatoes. Only you are in charge of your happiness. In every situation you can choose to be sad or to see the opportunity that the situation brings, and there is always an opportunity. If you look back at your life, you’ll see that everything that happened to you brought new opportunities along with it. You are stronger now, smarter, more beautiful, more aware. Happier. You have a wonderful, clever, happy boy. He’s a reflection of you. You’re a wonderful mother and I learned so much from you. Thank you. Goodbye Sweet.”

Goodbye, Again.

29 Apr
Got this beautiful picture from: http://fromthelittlewhitehouse.blogspot.co.il

Got this beautiful picture from: http://fromthelittlewhitehouse.blogspot.co.il

We’d been back together for a month, Skating Guy and I, and a spectacular month it was. Closer than we were before, more in love, more intense. I walked around infatuated like some hormone stricken 16-year-old, drawing pink hearts in her notebook and playing little futuristic scenarios in her head, how he’ll ask me to the dance, how he’ll tell me he loves me, how he’ll propose.

Six years younger than I am, SG has a head full of magnificent red curls and the most curious thoughts. He has warm brown eyes and big full lips, that almost seem disproportional in comparison to his other features. His embrace is strong and often he holds me so tightly that I can’t get away. Especially if I’m upset about something, then he’ll grab me and pull me to him, kissing my forehead lightly and just holding me powerfully between his arms.

That’s just the way he held me this morning, as we were saying goodbye. I’m pretty sure this time it’s for good. Funny how I was the one breaking up with him, and he was the one consoling me. You’re right, he said, we want different things. You want a family, and you deserve one. I want to read books, and learn languages, and find myself.

It was a powerful, overwhelming type of love, almost alarming, a kind that grabs you in the gut and hurts and satisfies you and leaves you feeling an urgent need to hold on and not let go, the kind of love you know cannot last. We fell into it unintentionally. We were travelling on completely different paths, but somehow we met at a crossroads, and we lingered there as long as we could, and then it was time to carry on.

I know saying this makes me a non-feminist, and you can raise your eyebrows at me all you like, but I need a man in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I can make it on my own, I know I can, I am making it on my own. I ‘ve been making it on my own for a while now. And raising an amazing little boy. And doing a damn good job at it. BUT, if I want to be truly happy, I need a man in my life. Someone who completes the magical trio I’ve longed for ever since I was a little girl: Mom, Dad, Baby. A traditional, old fashioned family, that sits together for dinner, and has family vacations, and lives together until the Boy is all grown up. A family that argues sometimes over silly things, or serious things, but always sticks together nonetheless.

SG cannot give me that, and won’t be able to. And I’m done waiting for boys to become men so they can give me what I need from them. Been there, done that. Besides, if SG suddenly became that man, he wouldn’t be that boy I’m so in love with anymore.

You’ll be happy, he promised me, as we were standing by the door. With BD or without. You’ll get what you want.

I know, I said. And you will too.

Don’t cry.

I can’t.

Ok then, come here.

He held me the way he always does when I’m upset, strongly, tightly, overbearingly.

And then he left, and I shut the door, and went to the window to watch him walk away.

 

 

All That She Wants

15 Apr

Nature's Embrace by Josephine Wall

He’d be kind. He’d listen when I spoke, and even when I didn’t. He’d hold me when I needed to be held. He’d love my son but understand his place as a significant adult in his life, yes, but not his father. He wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. He’d be warm. He’d be generally happy and often smile or laugh. He’d enjoy a homey evening together of cooking dinner, chatting, washing dishes, watching a movie. He’d have time for us. He’d have time for himself. He wouldn’t be rich, he’d make just enough money so that between the two of us we could manage a comfortable life. He’d want to look after me. Sometimes he might even worry about me, just a little. He’d help me out with things without being asked to. He’d love me. I’d love him.

Our relationship would start casually and gradually intensify. We’d be passionate and physical, and wouldn’t be able to take our hands off each other at first. As time went by, there wouldn’t be as many sparks, but we’d still enjoy one another physically. It would start becoming serious. We’d use the L word. We might be scared. Maybe we’d both been hurt before. But that too would pass and in its place a calmness and sense of security would slowly grow. After some time, keys would be exchanged. Sleepovers would multiply. Eventually boxes would be packed and moved. Closet space would be cleared. A new life would be built and shared.

A little boy would grow up in a safe and loving environment. He’d go to school and play sports, or do arts or read books, whatever made him happy. And we’d be proud as hell. We’d all have a good relationship with his father, who might also have found a new love, built a new home.

We’d grow older. Things would change. Challenges would appear. But we’d cope with them. We’d argue from time to time. We’d be mad at one another. But at night our bodies would meet under the covers and a forgiving warmth would envelope us both.

He’d always remember how I liked my coffee, and I’d remember he preferred tepid water to cold. He’d keep the light on in the kitchen at night because he’d know I hated sleeping in pitch dark. I’d invest in organic tomatoes, because I’d know how much he liked them. Sometimes, when the Boy didn’t think he was too cool for it, we’d order in and play board games or have a movie night. Maybe there would even be another boy in the picture. Or a girl. Maybe.

I’d get a second chance at happily ever after.

But…

But if I didn’t, if things didn’t work out, I’d be strong enough to handle it. Wouldn’t I..? I’d pick up the pieces of my shattered heart and glue them back together. I’d have to find a way to protect my son from having his heart shattered too.

When I think about the risks… It almost seems too dangerous. Sometimes it makes me want to give up hope of ever having a Chapter 2.  But I remember a line that I heard in a song: There are no victories in all our histories without love. And I put on that song that I used to love as a teenager. And it makes me feel a little more hopeful, and little more brave.