Clarity is sometimes fun and sometimes painful...

... but it always, apparently, arrives at the moment it's supposed to.

I learned a lot about myself in the last several days.

I took my son on the out-of-state trip we had planned. And I did it. All by myself. And that validation I had been waiting for didn't come from anybody else. I had been waiting for just one person to say, "Yeah, I can imagine that even though it's going to be great, and I totally believe you can do it, but yeah, I can see that it would be scary to do."

Nobody said that to me. But I sure said it to myself. While I appreciate that everybody seems to believe that I kick ass and I take it in stride, there are some scary things that I take on. This was one of them.

Amazingly, upon our return, it was my sister-in-law who stared at me admiringly. I don't think she was impressed about me driving that many hours and that many miles with just me and him. She was impressed by the fact that I took him on a trail... With no handrails. (Again, a moment of clarity right there!) The idea of being responsible for this amazing little human being who was, potentially, inches from plunging nearly a mile to his death. Was absolutely terrifying. And he was scared, too. And he talked about how we were being brave. And I love that he learned that with me. And I explained to him that "courage is not the absence of fear. It's deciding that something else is more important than the fear."

Fuck. Writing that out just now made me realize, once again, that CF was right last night.

Ugh.

So, after this amazing trip, in which we were both total troopers, I pushed it hard to get back last night. CF was in town for the holiday and last night would be my only chance to see her.

So, I did. And over drinks and dinner, I sobbed to her about how I had woken up at 3:30 in the morning on Thanksgiving Day, having imaginary conversations with Leon in my head. And I had written him a letter that night (unsent. Don't worry.) that was somewhat healing for me. But how I have this certainty that it's not quite finished with him. Because of one stupid thing he said to me two months ago. Apparently, I'm supposed to do this one thing. And I got angry. "Why is it that I always have to do what's right for someone else? Why can't I just consider what's in it for me?" And she calmly took it and said, "That's just not who you are."

Ugh. I hate it when people are right about me.

But I hate it more when people are wrong about me.

Which is why I'm so angry with Leon. And, I suppose, Roger, too. He was so sweet the whole time I was gone. Texting me with "hi beautiful". But some stuff has been rubbing me the wrong way. I'm proud of myself for telling him. And he's been taking it in stride. The impression I have of him, though, is of someone that would just let me have my way all the time. And, contrary to popular belief, I actually need someone who will put me in my place every now and then. Take me down a peg.

CF certainly did that last night. Calling me out on stuff. Asking me the hardest questions of all. Making me think. Giving me an assignment.

But doing so with Love and with Laughter.

Sick laughter. Our poor waitress. Who happened to walk up to leave a drink as we were talking about "tossing mommies off the pier". Luckily, she didn't hear us giggling about how "it's all fun and games until somebody's bleeding out on the bathroom floor."

Yep, your RetroMama's a sick, sick girl. And she loves that she has an amazing CF with whom to share that laughter.

Totally worth the all-day drive to get there.

Even if she's got to pull up the damn BGPs again.

Which she's doing now. As she signs off to go get ready for her date with destiny... Or, rather, (hopefully!!! fingers crossed!) with "other guy".

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.

I want to get back to my zen place.

Everything happens for a reason. And "patience" is, apparently, still the lesson I am supposed to learn.

I'm getting to the point where I'm realizing that I am a pretty okay single mom. My kid and I have really open communication, we do fun stuff together, I make him eat his vegetables, etc.


We've cut some corners this summer, what with me being without a job and all, but I don't think the kidlet has really felt deprived or anything.

I have always had a tendency to be a bit of a lazy homemaker. I enjoy cooking, but don't make it much of a priority. During my marriage, I took things for granted. If there was a tear in an item of clothing, I was pretty quick to put it in the "donate" pile.

I'm different, now, though.


My favorite jeans ever needed to be retired. The holes in them were really trashy looking. Knowing that I'm next-to-useless with a needle, I gave them up to my dad's girlfriend, who ended up patching them with this really classy material. I'm thrilled to have my jeans back and even more thrilled that I don't feel the need to go buy another pair right now.

And I found a skort that I'd set aside a year ago because it was missing a button and sewed the damn thing back on. (Thanks to the sewing kit dad's gf had given me for Christmas a couple of years ago...) I've sewn on three buttons in the last month. Mad skillz.


And my kid is lucky that I have such amazing friends... Because they open their homes to us and bless his world just as much as they have blessed mine...


Tonight, over dinner, the kidlet asked his dad if he would go visit our friends that we had just seen. Invited him to sleep in their guest room and everything. His dad very diplomatically said that he would probably meet them when they come down to visit us, but that he doesn't know them so he would not be going to stay in their home. No, not even if he went with us...


And I was sad for him. While my ex is a great guy, the only people he really brings to my son's world is his family. And, while they're mostly great, they're not the kind of people who will broaden my son's little horizons.


Not like the M family... Who have kind of adopted me as their little sister. E's mom even stopped by on Sunday to meet me since she had heard I'd be in town. I was sad to find out that I'd missed her.


But so glad to be in that home. The kids picked up right where they left off, and D waited to start the tofu stir-fry until I was there so that he could teach me... And he's this amazing teacher who taught me how to slice a carrot.


Shut up. Yes, I didn't know how to slice a carrot.

There was a phobia. There was an incident when I was about 6 years old... A teenaged neighbor of a friend thought it would be fun to terrorize the little kids with a knife... And when he forced it into my hand, I threw it down... Not realizing my friend was behind me until he screamed... Because he'd been cut. I am fairly certain it wasn't that bad, he didn't need to go to the doctor or anything, but that stuck with me. Knives scare me.

But I was highly motivated to learn how to make this dish.


So, I did. Because I have become this person who faces her fears. Like, oh, I'm afraid of heights. So, I'll go rockclimbing... Or go run across the Golden Gate Bridge. Oh, I'm scared of knives. So, I'll learn how to slice a carrot with a sharp one to make tofu stir-fry.

And it was amazing... Later, he would show me how to make bread. Like, not in a breadmaker. But actual bread.


And we drank wine and enjoyed each other's company...

And early the next morning, E took me to the gym. Where I did back-to-back classes: Pilates and then Water Aerobics. We went back to the house for a couple of hours and D made me decaf in the French Press (See how well they take care of me???), and then E and I were back at the gym for another Pilates class. More hanging out at the house and then back to the gym for the 4th class of the day, Step.

I totally rocked it. I was sore, but I felt like I learned SO MUCH. I feel like I have enough of a grasp on pilates to where I could do a video at home and not hurt myself. And the Step class was a lot of fun... Until we put the steps away to do more abs work.


Eesh. My poor abs. I learned the last time that I did Pilates that I have a strong back, but no six-pack, whatsoever.


Shockingly, this time was a bit easier. Or maybe not shockingly. I actually have learned something.


I was in my pajamas by 6, drinking wine, learning how to roast a chicken (again, shut up.), and this amazing potato dish (seriously, D. You need to be the Next Food Network Star!!!).

And after a mellow evening, I went and took E's Muscle Conditioning class this morning. Which was an absolutely humbling experience.

But, again, I learned so much...

And while I was there, I heard from a friend of HRT's. Apparently, she'd heard I have cancer and wanted to check in to see if I was okay. Nine months ago, this woman kicked me while I was down. Resulting in a very bad 20-minute crying jag on my kitchen floor. That was the last I'd heard from either of them. And yet, she stepped up to let me know she would pray for me (don't get me started on this one. LOL)...


Which means HRT knows. Whether I will hear from him remains to be seen, but I know now that I am strong enough to handle it. And, no, I won't let him back in. Two days ago, I was rather certain I would hear from him. And while I'm in a strange mood tonight, telling myself I won't hear from anybody I'm waiting to hear from, again, I return to this "patience" thing.


And I'm learning. Taking a deep breath and accepting that timing is everything.

And whenever he tries to walk back into my world, I will gently (and kindly!) help him walk back out of it. But I will be grateful for whatever comes my way.


And, again, with the timing.

I did see the guy again (the guy from the last blog entry). And when he asked me to go out for a drink, I accepted. And I had a really nice time with him. We did discuss what had happened earlier in the week. And it was pretty much just a "let's slow down, I don't want us not to be able to be friends if this doesn't work out, etc." thing... And we talked it out, and I think we managed to figure out that it's all going to be okay. No matter what.

And I'm grateful for this experience. I'm grateful for learning how to take things slowly. I'm grateful that I had to realize I felt guilty for moving forward out of my marrage. Because then I was infinitely grateful for the realization that my marriage is really over. And I'm grateful for this guy because he told me my demands are reasonable (something I'd doubted ever since the not-so-worthy one told me that my time wasn't enough). So, whether we end up continuing to date or whether we're done, I'm grateful for it having happened up until now.

There were lonely moments tonight. Moments when I missed my son so badly, and moments when I just wanted to head right back to where I'd been for the last couple of days. Moments when I wished I had a significant other that I could count on. Moments when I hoped someone would say "let me come with you to your surgery on Monday because it matters to me to be there with you..." Moments when I threw out the flowers from last week and wished someone would want to buy some for me.

But then I realized that someone does want to buy flowers for me. When AE asked about my surgery and asked where she could send flowers... Of course, it's just an outpatient thing, but that was sweet. And I realized I don't really need someone to buy me flowers because I was throwing out flowers that I'd bought for myself. And they were gorgeous.

And I do have so many friends who love me and would offer to be there with me on Monday (and HAVE offered!)...

But then I remember the night before another surgery when I went to the hospital alone for bloodwork. And even though I was MARRIED, I went alone. And I was wheeled into that surgery knowing that my husband was not out there waiting for me. And woke up from that surgery alone. So, I embraced this loneliness tonight. Because I remember that I left because it would be better to be lonely and alone that to be lonely when I'm with someone.

And with less than a week until I can get this stupid cancer off of me, I think I'll make it. It's just starting to get a little old.

But again... Patience.

I'm trying.

So, I glance down at the henna'ed "om" on the inside of my wrist, and I take a deep breath. And I try to channel Cupcake's quiet.

Back to the yoga tomorrow morning. I need to get my zen back.

And while I'm scared to hit "publish post", I think you'll learn that I face my fears with arms wide open...

Click.