Thirty-Second Theater.

The setting:

A small Italian restaurant near our home. Dimmed lights, cloth napkins, candles on the table.

The characters:

The Ex, the Kidlet, and the beautiful and amazing Mom (my blog. Shut up.)

Kidlet: Mom? Are we in a 5-star restaurant?

Mom: No, why?

Kidlet leans over his bread plate and spits out a bad bite.

The Ex and Mom look at each other as the lightbulbs glow over their heads in comprehension.

Monday's Perspective.

It made sense today.

Leon and I get along too well. We never actually had a bad date. It always ended on a high note. It was when we weren't together that he'd get inside his own head and freak out about it.

Fuck that.

I'm putting other irons in the fire...

And, I solemnly swear I am up to no good at this moment.

::grin::

I've nearly made it through today...

It was a spectacularly shitty week. Well, most of it, anyway.

After I posted the last entry, I spent the rest of the day in some pretty serious self-talk. That I deserve better than Leon. I deserve a guy who can acknowledge that I kick ass and can appreciate it, instead of letting it frighten him off. I deserve a man who will make the effort with me. I am worth the effort.

I knew I'd be seeing Leon that night and I was ready for it. I knew that we had another date lined up for a couple of days later, and after that I could be done for awhile... But I would follow through with what I'd already committed.

So, I did. And seeing him on Saturday night was liberating... Realizing that I didn't want anything more with him. I had it under control. And that was the night, of course, that he showed me I matter to him. He hugged me in front of a crowd. He was solicitous and attentive toward me. He introduced me to his friends... And when he walked me to my car, we just talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. And he grabbed me and hugged me hard and kissed me... Not once, but twice.

And I left smiling. Knowing that he is not unaffected by me. I felt like I finally had the upper hand, and while I don't like playing games, this felt good.

I spent the next day working on my profile for an online dating site.

Because I meant it when I said I was going to be done with Leon.

And a few days later, we went on the date we'd been planning for more than a month. And it was AMAZING. Of course, he broke up with me during the long car ride to our destination. Telling me he's not ready for a relationship, etc... I asked him why he was telling me this. Did he think I was pushing for one? Because I was working on this online dating thing... I wanted to be clear with him that I'm not the one putting pressure on him. I told him that one day he'd realize I kick ass and that I knew that I deserve more than he'd been willing to give...

Then my son called. And I spoke to him and then asked to speak to his dad. Because The Ex was seeing a surgeon that night to schedule a surgery. And I was kind to him. And when we hung up, Leon said, "I hope you and your husband can work things out..."

Um, WTF?!?!? Yeah, I guess it would be easier for him if I got back with my Ex because then he'd never have to actually take a risk with me. What the Fuck Ever.

So then we got to our destination... And he introduced me to his friend's parents... And then we connected with NOF and her family... She whispered, "How are things going?" And I laughed and said, "Oh, we broke up again on the way down here!" She said, "Wow, that's awkward..." And I laughed again and said, "No, it's actually not..." Because it wasn't... I was still totally comfortable with him... And then I didn't feel bad about eyeing anybody else.

And then we proceeded to have an amazing evening... He was totally taking care of me... Making sure I was liquored up appropriately... Keeping his arm around me... Paying for everything... Asking me if I needed anything every time he left me... Putting his hand on my leg...

Later, we went to a bar where his friends were hanging out... He warned me he would bum a cigarette from someone... "Knock yourself out. We're not going to be kissing tonight..." He introduced me to his friends... One of his friends kept telling us to stay over, but Leon was very good about making sure I would be back at work on time the next morning...

We did end up staying at his friend's house... And he held me on the couch and we slept all tangled up with each other... His hand down the back of my pants, and my hand up under his shirt on his chest... And we just fit.... I was drunk enough that if he hadn't passed out when he did, things may have progressed... But everything works out the way it's supposed to... And sleeping in each other's arms was all that was meant to happen that night...

Our alarms went off at 4:00 and we stumbled outside into the darkness... He held my hand and told me that I was a good influence... That he hadn't ended up smoking the night before... He kept his hand on my leg the entire drive home... Even while I slept... And when we got to my apartment, he walked me in, told me he'd had a great night, hugged me, kissed me and said, "Much Love..."

And then he was gone.

And I was okay with that. Because I'd already decided days earlier that we would be done after that night.

And then my week got shot to hell. The Ex scheduled his surgery during a time that was extremely hectic for me. There was crying. I was trying so hard not to add any stress to him that I took it all upon myself, and it was very stressful, very painful.

And then he went in for his surgery... And I waited, anxiously, for the phone call that he was okay.

And that phone call came. He was fine. I brought the kidlet to visit him that night... And yes, there was a part of me that thought for about five seconds that maybe he would have the revelation that sometimes comes after a life-threatening experience. Oh, and he was sweet and thankful... For keeping him on my health insurance.

It was all I could do to keep the kidlet from hearing me cry on the way home... Silent tears ran down my cheeks... Here was the man I'd promised to love, honor, and cherish for the rest of my life, lying in a hospital bed... And even though he knows I'm damn good at the hospital thing, he didn't want me.... So, then I started crying about Leon... Why the fuck didn't he want me, either?

It was a bad night. D and E saw me crying via Skype, and they were completely done with Leon. D said it wasn't fair of Leon to break up with me and then proceed to have a 12-hour relationship with me. Sadly, I felt somewhat validated when he said that. Because I'd felt like Leon was being so great to me that night, and it had been pretty confusing that his actions were pretty different from what his words had been...

I spent the next morning at the hospital with The Ex... And, apparently, I got to be witness to his worst two hours of the entire experience. He was in agony. He was getting up for the first time. He'd been scared to cough because it would hurt, but he needed to get the crap out of his lungs. So, I did what I do. I was the advocate. Asking questions, getting his needs met. I was a force to be reckoned with. And I helped to get him out of bed. And helped get him ready for his first foray out of his room. And then he wanted to pee... It is strangely intimate to hold up a man to whom you were married for many years as he places all of his weight on you and you watch to see if he can pee. Out of a penis you haven't seen in many, many months...

And I hated to leave him when I did... It had taken a lot out of him... But I had to get to work... And this time he was much more grateful. And he'd introduced me as his wife to two different people... Which, technically, I am... And then I left... And I pulled up the BGPs and called his mother... And his sister... And I made it okay to talk to them. Because that's how I roll.

And then I got through my day... Spent my lunch hour with a couple of colleagues with whom I'd never really socialized... And told them the short version of my "date" with Leon a few days earlier... And said, "Yeah, I need a boyfriend right now like I need a hole in the head..."

Later that evening, I would get a text from Leon... The guy who doesn't text... "Hope all is well." Um, well, it's not. So, how do I respond to that?

I don't.

Until the next morning. When I wake up and realize that it's a very, very significant day. In a bad way. This year was the first year I hadn't dreaded it for weeks, though. And I was strangely calm about it... Although, the kidlet didn't oblige and had a minor meltdown that morning. After drying our tears (yes, OUR tears. LOL), we walked out the front door... And there was a beautiful butterfly... And all was well again...

But as I pondered, I realized that it wasn't fair for Leon to randomly text me at this point. That I truly need some space this time... It's not fair for him to act like he likes me and then break up with me every chance he gets. I know he likes me. But he has fears... And I fear... I have fears... And you know what I do with those fears??? I give them the proverbial finger and crush them...

Oh, I'm scared of heights.... When I was running 50 miles, I had to run across bridges that spanned a river... And many of the bridges had no hand-rails... And there was a portion of that course that had a frickin' CLIFF on one side of the narrow trail... And even though I had to talk to myself, "You are sure-footed... You know exactly where to place your foot for maximum hold and maximum safety" I did it. Because I refuse to let fear rule...

Even when it comes to love... Because while I may end up crying and hurting later, I know I'll get through the pain, eventually... And the joy could very well end up outweighing the pain. To me, it's worth the risk.

But I can't respect someone who's paralyzed with fear... Especially when he pushes away this awesome chick who doesn't want anything more than being able to enjoy their time together. I'm not even CLOSE to being "all in", so I can't imagine why he keeps saying he's not ready for that. Because if he said he wanted to be "all in", I'd probably be the one running right now!

But I wouldn't have minded being able to go out and have a good time together. Because that's what we always did. Always. Never did we have a bad date. Not once. It was only comfortable and fun.

But anyway.

On that day... When I found out The Ex was coming home... (I wasn't thrilled that they were pulling out a chest tube and then sending him home a few hours later)

With plans changing, once again, I wouldn't be getting my gooey chocolate cake that day.

And, suddenly, I was just sick of it.

I called Leon. He asked how my week had been. And I told him it had been spectacularly shitty. And that part of that was because of him. And that I needed to not hear from him for awhile. That I understand he's just trying to "be a good friend", but that it's a little too confusing for me right now and can we just back off?

He apologized for everything (but tried to tell me he "wasn't being a boyfriend" that night. Uggh. Whatever. Okay, so you treat all your friends that way? Saying "sweetie, honey, baby"? Keeping an arm around them or a hand on them all night? Snuggling on the couch? Paying for everything? Huh. Because we've been friends for many years, and you'd never been like that before with me. Whatever.)... But I'm glad for some breathing room.

Although it really fucking hurts.

And I've been in a funk for days, just trying to process... The Ex is well enough to have the kidlet with him, and I have had a rough few days... Lots and lots and lots of crying.

And then my cousin called me and she asked if we could get together today... All I had to do was make it until she got here...

And I had a great time with her... We laughed... I cried...

And at one point, she asked me... "What do you love about Leon?"

And at first I said, "I feel safe with him..."

She said, "That's about you... What do you love about him?"

And it took me a moment. And I hoped I would realize that it wasn't him. That I don't have any reason to feel this way.

But then I started listing things...

I love how passionate he is about what he does... I love how he lives within his means... I love that he eats things I don't and is willing to share those things with me... I love that he cooks... I love that he has a sense of humor... I love that he talks about tough things that most guys shy away from... I love that he takes things in stride... That when some drunk assholes threw something at his car the other night, he just waved them on ahead and didn't even consider starting anything with them... I love the way his body feels when it's tangled up with mine... I love the way he smells... I love the way he says my name when he's speaking to me... I love that he is polite and respectful... I love that when he's going to be five minutes late, he calls... I love that he is a man of his word... When we do make a date, he always follows through... I love that when I ask him questions, he answers me... Even when it's hard... I love that he doesn't read my blog.

Oh, don't worry... There are loads of things I DON'T love about Leon.

Like how fearful he is of love.

At least I know where I stand with myself...

And I know him well enough to know that he is going to respect this "breathing room" as he called it.

Which gives me some time... Several weeks to grieve... Several weeks for me to explore other options.... And maybe he'll miss me while I'm gone from his world... Or maybe he won't... And maybe I'll come to a place where I won't miss him, either...

Huh.

I haven't cried since I started typing... That's refreshing.

I know this post will piss some of you off. And you'll just have to deal with it. This is what it is and I'm dealing with it. In as kick-ass a way as I can.

Now to get back to the chores that have been piling up because, apparently, laundry and dishes don't take a vacation even when your world comes crashing down.

You've come a long way, baby...

It was nearly noon when I realized what today was.

One year ago, today, I ran through an airport to throw my arms around HRT for the first time in three months. There were photos taken of us that day... We couldn't stop staring at each other... Touching each other... We would make that particular city ours... I would take it back as my own when I went back there several months later. Because what I didn't know was just how awful he was that weekend... In the weeks following what seemed like such a magical time, he would reveal himself to be the thief, cheat, and liar that he truly was. It took me many months to heal from all that he brought to my world. And after that weekend, I would never see him again.

But on this day... When I realized that today marked one year since that day... It hit me once again just how different my world is... How blessed I am that he is not in it.

One week ago today, I was in the middle of my first 50-mile trail run. And I was kicking ass.

And here I am, a week after accomplishing the hardest thing I've ever done (except for birthing my son. No, actually, probably including that. LOL!), and I'm feeling good.

Physically, I feel fairly recovered from that brutal trek through the wilderness. Okay, I've still got some numbness in one toe (which is quickly turning into fairly excruciating pain. LOL) and I'm going to lose a toenail. (I got a pedicure this afternoon. That poor little pinky toe is BLACK.)

Emotionally, I'm still not quite ready to blog about that experience.

And in the five days since I've been home, I've been through the emotional wringer. Leon's back in the picture (shut up, you guys!), and that's got all kinds of confusion written all over it. The Ex is dealing with some fairly major health issues right now. And, of course, I'm stepping up, just like I always do. Which makes him all kinds of grateful and shit. Which, again, throws all kinds of confusion all over everything. And throws all of my plans over the next several weeks into limbo, what with him not knowing when he's being admitted to the hospital and such.

Ugh.

But when I realized what today is, it just reminded me how much ass I've kicked in the last year.

And I got a text this morning that called me a "marathoner... Not just of miles but of life too. Hills and valleys, ups and downs, laughter and tears, joy and pain. But always victorious."

So, on this day, I am once again reminded to be grateful for the worst person to ever enter my world. Because maybe if he hadn't, I wouldn't be where I am today. Or maybe I'd be where I am today, but open to someone even worse who could hurt me worse than even he could.

So, here I am... A bit more cautious in my dealings with men... Not quite as trusting with my heart...

But with less than 6 days until what used to be the worst day of my year, I know that I will make it.

Because I am surrounded by so much Light and so much Love... I have managed to prove myself as a Friend to those who are worthy (and probably still some who will prove otherwise. LOL)... And I have welcomed the Friendship of so many who continue to bless my world...

So even thought those first months were agonizing, I am so grateful that I moved through it in Real Time instead of pushing it aside. Because now I can stand proud and grateful for who I've become and who I am becoming.

Kicking this much ass can intimidate others.

I kick a lot of ass. It's just how it is. I can't help it.

And I can't help coming home from this huge accomplishment, the biggest of my life so far (other than my son, of course!), and feeling a major letdown.

I planned to not be alone last night and this morning. And he chickened out.

Luckily, one of the few who could possibly understand what I was feeling made himself available for my sobbing phone call. And I felt a little better when we were done.

But I didn't sleep in as I'd planned. And now this morning, I'm trying to just focus on all that is good and wonderful and amazing.

I probably should have gone to work.

Oh, well. I shall occupy myself until I can go pick up my boy and then all will be beautiful again.