Ok. Ok. I am finally starting to get it. The thoughtful reflection is having its effect. These things are all coming to a head (my head) now for a reason. On the one hand my ego feels charged, dude she is literally reading my blog every day, why what possible draw could I have on her life? And dude he actually thinks I have voodoo doll and am seeking to harm him with it. I feel a surge of power, perhaps I can write a story on my blog that tells of the many clandestine meetings in the last three years with the ex, the passionate sex before he leaves and goes back to her. He is a latino and a dog, it isn’t too far fetched. My mother would have a stroke, as would my friends who saw through his charm and razzle dazzle and despised him. She hasn’t actually even lived with him, and she has been in a long distance relationship with him for two of the three years. My God she has no idea how lazy he is. And she is reading my blog and driving by my house and hanging out in my favorite places just to get a glimpse of me. My God. I suddenly feel a deep compassion for her. And I look at the photos again and see the sadness in her eyes. Nina sweetheart you can let it all go. Your boyfriend is a coward and has never even contacted me since he left me (assuming the one text was from you because it would have been the only time he did contact me in the three years) and sweetie, I don’t want him really in my heart of hearts. I don’t really even miss him. What I miss is a live in friend. But that has been replaced by the wonderful deep and satisfying friendships I have built with others. I am a hell of a lot happier now that he is gone. Best wishes to you both. But sweetie, I think it might be time for you to let me go. I am not worth your time or effort. I am so ordinary and so common as your arrogant boyfriend put it. Common and ordinary or charming and lovely depending on the day. But either way your fears are unjustified and the time you spend on me unnecessary. This is not the droid you are looking for punkin, it is time to move on. Ok? Ok.
As for the other situation that is an exploding shit fan…I am flabbergasted to discover that my baby daddy’s rather unattractive girlfriend is all over me for some reason. I don’t even think about him most days of my life and really could care, but then it occurs to me that this poor soul was deeply damaged by my actions. I want to defend them but I am stopped cold in my tracks. I don’t know how to fix this one. I want to make a voodoo doll that sends good things his way. I didn’t mean to damage him so deeply. But I don’t think I did anything wrong. He scared me when he threatened me, he was abusive to me before I left him, I didn’t want to support him and a baby, I didn’t want to pick up potatoes off a parking lot, embarrassed to imagine someone seeing me cleaning up after his tantrum, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days stroking his rather large ego, I couldn’t. When I tried to make it work later after my own father died it seemed fine, but he chose the homeless and vagrant lifestyle then too. He still berates me for never proving in a court of law that she is his and all I can think is he has spent way to much time watching Maury. But he is the person who dropped the court case when he didn’t want to pay, his one chance to prove it and yet he still blames me. And that’s it. He blames me for his life of failure and I see now that his girlfriend does too. But the thing is that he was the way he is when I knew him. Which is why I left. But maybe? Maybe? she thinks I did that to him? I don’t know. I cannot defend my actions. I did what I thought was right and I know I am powerless to help him now. I feel bad suddenly that he is such an utter and abject failure, but is it really on me? Or was I just an easy excuse?
I struggle and struggle and yet I come here to this place where I am so contemplative so thoughtful about these two situations what lesson is it that I need to learn from them?
And then I find myself indulging in the soft and warm strength of the new relationship. It has been almost six months now. In my mind’s eye I see his grin, it makes me giddy and I grin to myself in the early morning, imaging how he smiles when I grab him and hug him. I can literally see his eyes when he teases me, without mercy, and I find myself chuckling aloud. His masculinity, the fact that he is responsible, the comfort my personality feels when I am with him, it all adds up in my mind. I know I know I have questionable taste in men, and I find myself from time to time with that doubtful voice, the one that says guess who will be doing all the work? Guess who will be blamed for everything? Guess who will be left for another? Guess guess guess….and then I laugh. I don’t even care because for this moment right now I am happy as hell when I am with him and when he pleases me I get a big grin on my face, and I know he likes it, because he keeps doing things to put that grin on my face. And I know he must have my eyes in his own memory from all the times I tease him without mercy. Oh and he can take it and he does, never getting ego crushed. I love that strength. He must love mine in return. He tells me he cannot stand to be around me for more than an hour or two at a time, and I turn to him and for once serious I say I know better. And he kisses me. That sweet gentle way he does sometimes I can feel my eyes sparkling as I remember it. And in 24 hours it will be my birthday, and I cannot tell you how many birthdays I spent alone, or with Bill saddened by the fact that my husband couldn’t have cared less that it was. And my guy now he actually bought me a present. And his gifts show that he actually thinks of me. Not that the gifts are what is important, he also actually wants to spend the time with me. Oh and the playfulness. I relish it, I thrive on it. It was absent for so long, for the entire marriage and now that I have it again I literally twirl in circles with my arms upraised. Praise the Gods of the universe, he likes to play!
For some reason I find myself thinking of Cheekzilla, of Godzilla. The toxic waste created this monster. Godzilla. And who created Cheekzilla. I rush out of the closet to the shrieks of joy from my students. And later when they ask that was you wasn’t it? And I deny it, and then pretend to pretend I am Cheekzilla, saying rawr rawr and snapping my fingers together but halfheartedly and saying see I cannot do it the way he does. The toxic waste of my own life created this Megamonster. It made me who I am, and as the kids come into my room grabbing me and hugging me I think of how this monster is really not a monster at all. I smile in this early morning, as my eyes grow heavy and more sleep is sure to come. Reflective and contemplative, messy, toxic, fallible, and yet I don’t pretend to pretend on anything. I am real. And in the end we all create our own monsters.