Saturday, September 25, 2010

A stroke of inspiration...

So, there I was... All knotted and upset at Eric.

And a few days after that post, he emailed me and told me his dad had had a major stroke and was in a coma. And he is so grateful for the lessons I'd taught him about gratitude. Because those lessons are what's getting him through this horrific time.

Wow. I felt like such a bitch.

And then came the dilemma. How do I respond? Because every fiber of my being wants to call him, comfort him, be there for him.

::awkward silence::

TF told me to respond via email. Give him my words. Like I would for any other friend.

But any other friend would be getting phone calls, offers of help. And a friend that lives barely a block away would certainly be getting some kind of care package left on his doorstep.

So, I fought my instincts. Sent the email. And it just didn't feel right. But I gave myself some time. Hoped that unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach would go away.

But the next day, I saw something at Trader Joe's that I knew he would love. So, I bought it... Left it on his doorstep with an unsigned note.

A day later, I got this amazing email from him. Thanking me. Again, with the gratitude. And I felt better about it.

Of course, a few days later, I wrote again. Sending Light and Love and shit. And it opened up some communication. Just via email. But I know what it's like to watch a parent die. It sucks. And if you haven't been there, there is NO WAY you can possibly understand. How could I fight who I am just because of who he is?

I came to this conclusion: I have to be who I am. If he chooses to misinterpret my empathies, that's really on him. I can't control his reactions. But I can control whether or not I am true to myself.

So, I continued to reach out.

Until the day I got an email where he told me that his dad had made a miraculous recovery. A week after being given last rites, he woke up. But Eric didn't tell me for two days. And that kind of fucking sucks. While he was sending me these amazingly thoughtful emails, surely he could have found 90 seconds somewhere within those 48 hours in which he could have told me that things were looking up. But, no... He strung me along.

And while I'm angry and feel used, I'm still okay with who I was and what I offered throughout the ordeal.

Moving on.

The husband and I went to our first session with the marriage counselor. That was fun. (heavy on the sarcasm) I couldn't stand her. He couldn't either. She certainly didn't seem to like either one of us. But the first thing he said was "I didn't like her, but I'll give her another chance. I'll go again."

The man won't hold my hand when I'm crying because he "doesn't want to get my hopes up". Doesn't want me to read anything into that. But he wants to go back to the therapist. Am I not supposed to read anything into that?

We had a long talk the night after therapy. I swear, I need to invest in Kleenex or something along those lines. I told him what I told myself: Do what feels right to you. If I choose to misinterpret something, that's on me.... He disagreed with that statement. Says I'll end up crying at him later. He's probably right about that. Damn, that guy really does know me. Or rather, he did. I'm a bit different than I was three years ago, that's for sure.

He's asking me for time. And right now, I can give that. I don't know how long I can. But today, I'm okay with that.

The other night, I took the kidlet out to dinner. And as we walked and enjoyed the spectacular scenery of our town, we happened upon a man who was looking at the same sights we were. We shared a nice conversation. He asked me, "So, is it just mom and son? Or Mom, Dad, and Son?"

I looked at my boy and said, "Both?"

The stranger ended up offering his card. And as the kidlet and I walked away, I tossed it in the trash.

Apparently, I'm not open to any other attractive men right now for anything more than conversation.

Trying out this faithful thing, apparently.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


Who knew? I was planning to title this: here we go again. And start with the statement: tapping away at the iPhone. But then I saw that this would be my 100th post. And I had thought I would do something momentous for 100.

But here I am.

I feel like I'm getting back to myself. I saw my trainer today. And we hadn't worked together in awhile. We had tons to catch up on. He asked about Eric and the Ex. And I told him how the Ex has absolutely been making an effort with me. Inviting me to stuff with him and the kidlet. Twice over this weekend.

Of course, I'm all over the map. One minute, I'm all zen. Patient. Allowing him the baby steps that are so huge for him. The next minute, I'm crushed. Telling myself I'm actually finally going to be divorced. And then so damned grateful when he calls me.

And on Sunday, when a close friend was telling me about how the men in her life have declared their love for her and they're willing to do the work to make her happy... It's a heartbreaking choice for her. And yet I'm envious. I don't want to take anything away from someone I love. But here I am, waiting for my husband to say something like that and to mean it... I only want one man to say those things to me. And it's him. And I doubt he ever will. And yet... When I needed help with something this evening, he dropped what he was doing to help me. No questions asked.

And another trusted friend said that I can't expect him to be someone that he hasn't been in a long time. Because maybe he's not that man anymore. This was a half hour after I practically swooned when her brother saved the middle of the cinnamon roll for me. Am I wanting what I can't have? Or are these baby steps truly steps toward all I've ever wanted?

My trainer asked if I'm dating anyone else. And I told him I'm not. He pressed, "no online dating?" nope. Nothing. "I'm still flirting. I'm not dead," I said just as he pressed his hand to my chest to check for a pulse. It felt so great to laugh with him. And to say out loud, "I am a person who needs human touch."

I really just want a hug from him that lasts longer than a few seconds. I want to be held. I want to be able to reach out and hold his hand without wondering if it's okay. I want to know that it IS okay.

And then there's Eric. And I'm so mad at myself for even caring. But he set a goal for himself and he didn't reach it. It was a goal he set because of me.... And typing that sentence made me realize why he failed. He was doing it for me. Not for him. Ugh. But I find myself directing my anger at him. Because I know he's not around to take it. I feel like he wasn't honest. And that was so important to him, supposedly. But he wasn't lying to me. He was lying to himself. And that's simply not my problem anymore.

So, for now, I'll keep doing what I'm doing. Enjoying every minute with my son. Loving every challenge that comes my way. Waiting for the Ex to show me one way or the other what's supposed to happen next. Loving my friends and family with all of me. Laughing at the stupid shit that Ari's pulling. Connecting with my colleagues and my kids.

Once again... Just... Being.