Twelve.

Twelve years ago, today, I married my best friend.

One year ago, today, I went out and celebrated a day I dubbed the "anti-versary". Dinner and drinks with the girls and then a play. Leon would kiss my shoulder that night and I would ponder that. Which led to what happened next...

Today, The Ex is still probably my best friend. We still laugh together. He still completely understands me. He knows all of my history. (Well, the history prior to the last couple of years. Haha.)

But we're not celebrating this day. And maybe we won't have a 13th. Maybe this will be the year we actually get divorced. Who knows?

And maybe it's just because I'm exhausted and sunburned, but I'm feeling kind of sad about this. I made it through most of today without even thinking about it. But I'm thinking about it now.

::shrug::

Long Weekend...

Sometimes these long weekends turn out to be too long...

Like this one.

The kidlet and I spent a beautiful day with friends on Saturday. And decided to go on a brittle hunt on Sunday. Since it was a gorgeous day and he hadn't seen his dad, we invited his dad to go with us. So, Sunday ended up being a family day.

Which kind of throws me into all kinds of turmoil all over again. Especially when he speaks cryptically and makes me think that he spent the night with someone two nights earlier.

I hated that it bothered me. I know I'm a total hypocrite. I've made no secret of Eric. The Ex knows I'd spent an amazing weekend away with him just last weekend. But I didn't like those little licks of jealousy that were lapping at my brain.

And we got along so well, and our son just totally thrived in those hours that he got to spend with both of his parents...

It's so confusing sometimes to be such good friends with him. And here he is, being so freaking supportive of this major thing I've undertaken... Something he would not have been during our marriage.

So, then there was the phone call... With me crying... And him saying the words that I've longed to hear for so long... The words that Eric won't say.

It's all very confusing.

Which led to a sleepless night.

So, of course, after a sleepless night, I wasn't quite in the right mood for today.

I had a wonderful time with wonderful friends. And those trusted friends made me realize I needed to make a few changes. Which I tried to do in a kind way.

Unfortunately, however, apparently, you have to bring drama to your world so that you can eliminate it. I just really didn't feel like bringing it today. And I accidentally did.

At least Ari has blocked me. And Andy came riding to her rescue on his white horse. I'm so disappointed in him. That he could actually accuse me of doing this because of him and Ari? Has that guy MET me?!? Ugh. Why on earth would I drag him into the ridiculousness that his girlfriend has created? Why would I have EVER told him that what is happening now between me and Ari started long before he ever entered the picture? Oh, I know. Because I never brought that kind of stuff to him. And had I known he'd been interested in her before they began, I might have told him. But he didn't. So, I didn't. It was too late.

I'm honestly so fucking over them.

Just as I'm so fucking over Cinderella. Why can't she just stay the fuck away from me and from mine? I hate that I have to push people I've cared about away just so that they don't feel like they're stuck in the middle.

But I'll do what I have to do. I need to continue to put my child first. And a happy and drama-free mommy is a far better mommy to him than the one who continues to hear little whispers about her opening her fucking mouth all over again.

I know she's reading this now. So, I'll give her this: GO AWAY!!! Do not EVER let my name cross your lips. AT ALL. You have NO reason to ever speak my name. NONE. And you have nobody to blame but YOU.

I'm just so fucking exhausted. And this is such a huge week. This thing that is coming... That I've been planning for nearly (more than?) a year... It's days away.

And I keep going back and forth on it. And there's no backing out now. Not that there ever was. I'm going through with it. And it's going to be amazing. And scary. And fun. And exciting. And a little bit crazy.

I just need to get my head back in the game. Process everything that has been thrown my way in the last two days...

I just need some Peace. And maybe a hug.

Limbo.

I need to write so badly it hurts.

But I'm talking about it. And that's good, I suppose.

My work bff stares at me like I'm off my rocker. Wonders why I'm so matter-of-fact about this. She knows I'll be wrecked when it's done. Reminded me that her shoulder will be there when I'm ready to need it.

This evening, the numbness started to wear off a bit. And there's a lump in my throat and my eyes ache with unshed tears...

But I'm walking the walk.

When I say that I love my son the most out of anything, I absolutely mean it. So much so that I'm going to do the hard thing. The thing that will make me unhappy. But it's the right thing. And I will be happy again... Just... Later.

Yes, I'm willing to put my happiness on hold. And I know what I'm risking.

And I'm still getting my priorities in order. And putting off this thing because that's the right thing to do.

Huh. Being patient. Weird.

One Year.

One year ago this weekend.

The weekend that changed everything.

The night before Mother's Day, I wrote two emails.

One to Cinderella. Asking her to please respect me and stop talking about me. To stop reading my blog. To stop contacting me.

She has respected none of that. My last blog entry was full of lies. I was setting the tone to start making stuff up to draw her out. To force her to admit that our "mutual friend" is named Blogger.

But then I decided that she simply doesn't matter enough.

The other to the one who was about to make what I thought was a huge mistake.

The next morning dawned, and the kidlet and I prepared for Ari's arrival. I would be cooking up breakfast and we would be celebrating together. Two kids in the "We have Dead Jewish Mothers Club".

And there I was all zen and happy to share that special day with her.

And she brought drama to my home.

I remember being glad to see her go.

This year has been different.

This weekend, I truly believe that I have been in a place where I am just glad. Glad to be the mom to the kidlet that I am. Things have been pretty amazing in this last year.

I haven't been dreading tomorrow like I have for the past several years.

Yeah, okay, I don't have a mom anymore, and that's sad, but I'm truly, truly grateful for my son.

Yeah, okay, that last pregnancy ended in a miscarriage and that was pretty traumatic. But I'm truly, truly grateful for my son.

And, yeah, okay. I used to spend Mother's Day with my mother-in-law and my husband's family. And while I did ask the Ex if we could all do lunch together tomorrow, he preferred not to. And that sucks even more when the kidlet asks why he doesn't get to see his grandma tomorrow.

This evening as we walked to the ice cream shop, he said, "I guess Grandma doesn't know the secret." I asked what to which secret he was referring."

"That even though we're not married anymore, we can still love each other and be a family."

That's the secret. The one *I* taught him.

And while it is kinda sad that his grandparents (and aunt and uncle and cousins, I suppose!) don't know that secret, I'm so glad that my little boy DOES.

And I hope that on the eve of this day when we are to celebrate mothers, that maybe... Just maybe... Someone new will learn that secret.

And that even though there are those who will be spending their first Mother's Day thinking about a mom they lost this year, I hope that they can find some joy in it.

Me? I'll be grateful for the day I'll get to spend with that amazing little man.

And I'll be sending some extra Light and Love to those who will need it. Especially my favorite soldier who lost his mom earlier this year. And even to Ari. While I'm glad not to spend time with her tomorrow, I'll never forget how she picked me up off of that dirty sidewalk two years ago. After sitting with me, first.

29.

Today's been a fairly amazing day.

Tons of attention (mostly even attention I wanted!).

Flowers at work from the beau... Flowers from AVG and a Mrs. Field's cookie with Happy Birthday on it from LR...

Oh, and flowers from an admirer. Shall we call him Phillip? A little awkward, I suppose. Specially since the flowers he sent were the same kind as (but prettier than!) the ones that Eric sent.

::awkward silence::

Ari and I are done, apparently. I can't quite wrap my mind around the fact that she turned out to be an utter bitch. I had thought maybe she was insensitive. Maybe clueless. But cruel? Didn't know she had it in her.

I'm embarrassed that she was ever in my inner circle.

::shrugging that one off::

Not much time to write.

Taking the kidlet to meet some of my nearest and dearest for dinner and dessert. The Ex is coming. Eric's not thrilled about that. He can get over it.

Take another little piece of my heart...

After such an amazing trip, it was hard to come back to reality.

Eric eased that transition, however, by treating me to an amazing day before I had to go back to work.

We lingered over brunch and then went for a walk. We spent hours in these eclectic little shops in a nearby town. We got to wander around, pausing to touch or kiss each other.

I fell in love with a purse in one of the shops we visited. This purse cost about 5 times what I've ever paid for a purse. (What? Doesn't everybody buy purses at the Fair or at the discount shoe stores?) I asked for Eric's opinion. And walked around the store with the purse over my shoulder. I'd needed a new purse for about two months, but hadn't anticipated buying one that day. I had just gotten back from a rather pricey vacation, and didn't know if I could justify spending that much on that particular day. Eric never gave me his opinion. The fabulous man who worked at the shop told me to go look in the full-length mirror in the next room. That clinched it. The purse would be mine.

Later, when pressed, Eric admitted that he would have told me to hold off on the purse since I'd just gotten back from that trip. I appreciated that he allowed me to make that choice completely independently of him. And I'm proud of my purchase. Even my therapist told me a few days later that it's a "bitchin' purse".

::grin::

I was somewhat out-of-touch with most people while I was away. Eric and I still emailed fairly regularly and managed one late-night phone call. TF and I texted a few times. I updated my facebook several times but didn't respond too regularly to comments and whatnot. Well, until I was with Z. Because that was just entertaining. ;)

Ari texted me several times while I was gone. Said she wanted to see me when I got back. I knew I'd be spending the day with Eric, but I was happy to try to connect for a bit. Her insistence about seeing me so soon made me think she had a present for me. Maybe because when I find a perfect little something for a friend, I have a hard time holding onto it until the next "occasion". In fact, that Sunday, I found a little piece of perfection that I knew NOF needed that day. I called her and we dropped by that night so that I could give it to her.

Silly me.

Ari had something for me. But it was news. And it certainly wasn't a gift.

Perhaps you remember this guy? The "one of the few who could possibly understand what I was feeling made himself available for my sobbing phone call"? Yeah, that guy.

A dear, dear friend of mine. The one who told me I was overdue for being selfish... And how that set me off on the path of doing the first selfish thing I'd ever done... And everything that came after put me here.

There had been a brief interlude in another city when he thought I wanted something to happen with him. And, not wanting to strike a blow to his ego (which is a bit bigger than I'm a fan of), I didn't tell him that he saw signals that weren't there. Because I came to a conclusion a long time ago. This man's friendship means way too much to even attempt anything physical. I have learned the hard way that friendships don't survive kissing and this one means way too much. The one with Leon didn't matter half as much as this one. I was angry after that interlude when he didn't talk to me for nearly two months. And the next time I heard from him was when he was crying over another girl. And I was okay with that. This is a man with whom I can grieve. Like, really and truly grieve. And that's not something I take lightly. This friendship is sacred.

And while I introduced him to HRT and Ari, it was only because they were there. Not because I wanted to share him with either of them. This is a friendship that I have always felt was truly mine. For every major thing that has happened in my world in the last 3 1/2 years, for every pivotal event or revelation, this man has been somehow tied into it.

This man is someone with whom I have shared emotional intimacies. This man has seen me far more naked than if we had ever had sex. He's seen me raw and bleeding. And I've seen the same of him.

Ari's news?

They had begun an online flirtation in the previous five days. And she stood there, trembling before me and Eric, waiting for me to hug her and be as thrilled and giddy as she is.

And I simply couldn't do it.

Because at the moment she told me that they were talking, I felt a piece of me ripped away. The level of intimacy that I once shared with him is gone. He has been sharing intimacies with one of my closer friends. Which means I never will again with him.

I was absolutely devastated.

And when we walked into the olive oil shop for some tasting, Ari stepped out for a few minutes, and I cried to Eric. And he was great. Never asked me if my feelings were anything more than friendship, which I appreciated. He just listened and offered some feedback, all of which was welcomed.

Later, the three of us got something to drink at a table that faced a sidewalk. It took Ari nearly 30 minutes before asking me if I was okay with her news. And I told her I wasn't. It killed me to see her texting him, knowing that they had already discussed me. And how to tell me. And who should tell me.

Ugh.

The following evening, thanks to a well-timed skype session, I gave them my blessing. The fact of the matter is that I do love them both. They do deserve a shot at happiness.

But, yes, I'm grieving. And the only person who seems to truly understand my point of view is, shockingly (or perhaps not so shockingly?), the Ex.

Even Eric says "never say never" and uses US as his example.

But I know this with every fiber of my being... My friendship with him will never be the same. I will never again call him to cry. About anything. That aspect of our friendship is over.

And I must say that in these early days of grieving... Seeing them all over each other's facebook profiles kind of disgusts me. I wish it didn't hurt so badly. But it really, really, really does.

So, I'm embracing this grief. I will move through it in Real Time and I will move on.

But I know there will be times when I will miss our talks. Because they were torn from me with no warning. He tried to placate me with "you know I can keep a secret." But that's so not the point.

And if the truth is told? I'm really kind of pissed off at her. Because I've been in her position. With her, as a matter of fact. And I did not behave the way she has.

I will come to be happy for her. And time will heal these wounds. But they will leave a scar.

I guess he and I were simply a longer Season.

Saying it.

Remember when I took the kidlet on a trip over Thanksgiving? It was a driving trip out-of-state. And I was pretty terrified going into it. TF had planned the whole thing and then had to back out a few weeks in advance. And I was all freaked out over going on my own.

Yeah.

Tomorrow afternoon, we leave for a trip out-of-state.

And I've planned it. I booked and paid for the plane tickets. I booked a rental car. I secured places to stay with dear friends for most of the nights we'll be gone. I've booked awesome activities for while we're gone.

And, of course, Eric generously offered me hotel points so that we could stay in a hotel on the night we arrive. And, shockingly, I accepted.

I have yet to pack. But I'm getting laundry done, so that's my excuse.

And I'm not scared. I've totally got this.

What a difference a few months makes. And what a difference pulling it off once makes.

I am a completely different person than the one I was at Thanksgiving.

I'm no longer crying over Leon. I've actually gotten to my grateful place about him.

I got to see CJ, hand him a copy of my book and thank him for being so influential during that time. I got to tell him to his face that I deserved better than the way he blew me off. And he looked me in the eye and said, "I know. And I'm so sorry." He explained what was happening in his world at that time (which, of course, had nothing to do with me) and I pretty much brought a ton of stuff to the surface for him. Threw some truths at him that he had yet to see. I was, apparently, his Reason.

And, I went there that night with Eric's blessing. Because Eric is great like that.

Eric read my blog a bit. And then stopped. Probably for the best. But he signed an email "YABE". "Your Assless Boyfriend, Eric." And I totally love that he is so great about it.

It's been hard for me to find time to write. This whole business of falling in love and having a grownup relationship when there are kids and Exes and whatnot involved... It's time-consuming. And it's beautiful and amazing and complicated and frustrating and wonderful.

This man encompasses everything that was on my lists. He kicks more ass in his corner of the world than I do in mine.

He really hears me. And he really sees me. And at 1:00 this morning, when I sobbed in his arms, he told me I was being ridiculous. But at 8:30, over coffee I'd made in the French Press, he admitted that I was absolutely not ridiculous.

We're still in the honeymoon phase. Ish.

Today when he emailed me and accidentally used "your" instead of "you're", I actually let it slide. Minutes later, he emailed me again apologizing and asking if I was going to break up with him. I love that he knows that is so huge to me.

We have different definitions of being "in love". And I'm trying to wrap my mind around that.

By my definition, I love him. I have since days after we first spoke. And even after that horrific first date, I knew I still would love him. That we would be great friends.

But, by my definition, I'm falling in love with him, too. And, by his? He's not there yet. And that's hard. But only sometimes. Because I know how he feels about me. I can see it in his phone calls and texts. In the way he listens and in the way he looks at me. In the way that he touches me. In the way that he won't let me turn away and hide my tears. He kind of sees through my tough chick act. And, shockingly, I'm okay with that.

Secure in the knowledge of what we have, I can go finish the laundry and get to packing for our trip.

I get to see my LLT in the morning. And then we're off. For another kickass trip that I can provide for my son because I left his dad. Who remains one of my very best friends.

Life is good.