Back in the Saddle

A couple of weeks ago, my very best friend decided to introduce me.. 
After more than a decade off the market, I felt clumsy and unsure.. but then  I reckon we all have to start over sometime.

And so I met him. I listened. I smiled. I  genuinely put myself out there as best as I could. I think maybe he liked me; I can be beautiful when I wanna be, and I know it.He was nice. Short for my taste, and a little quiet, but he was covered in ink so there was obviously some Bad Boy in there somewhere. After being in church for a decade (metaphorically speaking), I have to admit, I was intrigued.

We set up a date – dinner and the casino – for the coming Friday night and parted ways. We talked on the phone a good bit over the next few days, and when Friday night came I was ready. We’d long since talked ourselves out of the casino by then, but still, I was ready to find out what there was to find out.Soooo… Come Friday night we’d seen each other a couple of times, and had pretty much already decided to like each other. It was kind of an easy like; one of those effortless, slide right on in there situations that you hear about but don’t really see.. I have to admit that I honestly enjoyed the man’s company..

Now. Let’s talk about sex.

I’m not a rookie, by any standard. I haven’t had very many partners, and I  honestly dislike porn, but Im really adventurous and I have some pretty decent experience…..

But this guy? This guy guy had things in his bathroom that I’ve never even seen on TV, and we’ll, needless to say, I was tripping just a little bit.. Not enough to take off towards home in any case, but I have got to admit I heard alarm bells in the distance..

After a couple deep breaths and a pointed conversation, I’m too glad to say it all worked out, and now here we all are, just a few minutes more than a month, and I’m really glad I didn’t bail. The man is polite and considerate and he helps out around the house. Gracie freaking loves him and he’s great with her, and I’m not sure what more I could honestly ask for right now.

For the most part, I reckon I actually lucked out.

Still paddling the old canoe…

I’m the Asshole

It’s been 60 days since we filed for divorce.

It’s been almost 4 months since we left.

I wake up some mornings and still can’t believe that he’s gone..

I should feel something by now, besides empty I think, yet I don’t. I don’t know how I should feel.. Even now I don’t much really feel anything else but regret.

And this pain. I don’t see this pain going anywhere anytime soon..

You see, it turns out I’m the Asshole. I’m the one..

When I started this blog I needed an outlet, a place to put the things I thought and felt and couldn’t see so I could go about my life with some control…

Rewind a few years..

When Grace was 6 we did genetics testing. When the results came back with no chromosomal mutations, the neurologist sat us down and told us they were wrong. Gracie would live a much longer life than he’s anticipated. She was happy and healthy and well taken care of and wasnt this the best news we could have possibly gotten?

We’d never dreamed such a thing would happen.. It was amazing. It was terrifying. It was a really big deal.

My first thought was that this could only be a miracle.. My second was that I would have to move home where I might have help. And then I freaked out.

I suddenly had this awful, distorted view of what was coming.. body hair and maxi pads and puberty..

Yep, I freaked out. I shut down.

Dratton started working more and talkng less, and I was just left there on my own.. he couldn’t handle the truth of it and so he bailed.

Over the next few years I saw less and less of my husband. We started arguing more and spent less and less time together. The older girls moved out and our house became silent and the life that we once had was all but gone.

The little details between then and now really don’t matter anymore, so I wont bore you with my day to day trials..

Last week, mid-sentence in an angry text message, it hit me.

My reaction was OMG this is forever.. its not fair.

His reaction was OMG I can’t take care of her forever.

So he went to work. He worked hard. He worked until he hurt every day. He never complained. He never threw a tantrum. He never shed a tear.

In four years not once did it occur to me that he was afraid.

In four years I never asked him if he was ok…

We got a divorce because we couldn’t talk to each other, but beneath it all… ?

I am the asshole.

(An unedited version)