So Many Dreams

J is on my mind so much lately that he has invaded my dreams on a regular basis, when I'm not dreaming about pythons endangering school children (that's a whole different story, not for today, maybe not ever).

I regularly dream about J and me being together.  In all of my dreams, we spend much of our time in bed together... just like real life.  In all of my dreams, he and I are dating and trying to figure out if we will be more than that.  It's a common theme that plays out in different ways in each dream.

Last night's dream had him spending the night with me at my mother's house.  We were trying to be sneaky about it, but he wasn't careful enough the next morning to get out without getting caught.  We were all embarassed, but I said to J after she went back down the hall, "Well, I am over 50 after all.  She's got to know that I have sex sometimes."

W was nowhere to be found in the dream at all.  There was no question from anyone about him.  It was though he just didn't exist in the dream.  That isn't always true in these dreams.  Sometimes W is a factor in the dream.  Sometimes not.

On another note, I worry about J during my waking hours.  The prison where he works is on lockdown due to an inmate murder.  It is so very bad there since they closed the supermax prison and moved a lot of those prisoners to the prison where J works.  They moved some of the officers too, and that hasn't gone well.  Lots of disgruntled officers.  Lots of disgruntled inmates.  It is a volatile combination.  I want J out of there.  He is just a few years from retirement.  I wish he could go ahead and retire early, but even if he could I don't think he would.  Financially, he needs the work in spite of the risks that go with it.

Promiscuous? You Must be Joking!

Yesterday’s post was a quick one due to time and location constraints. Today I will elaborate a bit more on the weekend and some of the discussion J and I had.

We were fortunate enough to be able to spend a few hours together both on Friday night and Saturday morning. I made the daring suggestion that he stay in a motel right here in town to maximize the amount of time we could spend together. Although I knew that left open the possibility that someone who knows me might see me I decided taking the chance was worth it. We also went out to dinner together Friday night, again right here in town. I kept an eye out for anyone I might know, but we lucked out and didn’t run into anyone. I had a few ideas in my head regarding cover stories but was glad I didn’t need to use them.

While we were at dinner, we were reminiscing about our high school and college years. Here’s where things got just a little wonky for me. I tend to remember things with a bit of a skew to them, a skew to fit my own self-image and self-story. I suppose many of us do that. Anyway, J challenged my take on reality just a bit when he summarized my personality back then as not at all shy and introverted as I remember but as, of all things, “promiscuous.”

Promiscuous? Me? In high school? I hardly think so! I maintained my virginity, technically, throughout high school. I certainly was not promiscuous! If one used Bill Clinton’s definition of sex I never had sex until late in my freshman year of college. Promiscuous? Ridiculous!

Or was it ridiculous? No, not really. I have a way of using selective memory. If you asked me before, I would have told you I had one boyfriend at a time in high school with some times being boyfriend free altogether. However, J brought up something I had forgotten all about, and then remembered after he reminded me.

At our end of year band banquet (yes, we were both band geeks) my senior year, during the “awards” time they announced the award for band couple of the year. My memory was that it was J and me. His memory, and his is more accurate because I too remember this now that he reminded me, was that it was me & Eddie, me & Greg, me & Randy, and me & J. Now, to be fair J & I started dating Halloween of my senior year (something else I had forgotten until he reminded me) so really Eddie was before J & I got together so I don’t count that one as a bad thing, at least not from the promiscuity angle. The freshman boy dating a senior girl angle: now that is a bad thing and probably explains why we lasted only through a couple of dates, including Homecoming dance. Truth be told, I went out with Eddie because I wanted to go to Homecoming, and he was the only one to ask me.

Now, with Greg and Randy he had a point. I did hang out with both of them more than a girl going steady ought to hang out with other boys and participated in activities a girl ought to only participate in with her steady boyfriend. I never really dated either of them, unless you count cruising and parking as dating. While I thought of myself as “sociable” I can certainly see how it could also rightfully be interpreted as “promiscuous.” Also, I can see how it could be incredibly hurtful to J. I’m surprised in hindsight that he put up with me and my antics. I wouldn’t have if I had been him. I’m also surprised he never called me out on it back then. WTF? I know I interpreted his lack of reaction as tacit approval at the time. I’ve always been one to push the limits to see where the limits are. If you don’t draw a line in the sand I just keep running down the beach.

Putting on the 20/20 hindsight glasses, I realize that as mature as I thought I was back then I was really quite immature. I played very juvenile games, mostly because of my insecurity. I thought I would be lucky to ever have a guy interested in me and so I would just do my utmost to attract as many as possible. Of course, this is not a good plan. The quality of companionship you get when you act desperate is not the kind of companionship you truly desire. The kind of guys who go out with another guy’s girl are not the kind of guys you really want to look forward to a future with, and really I knew that. They were my fun guys. I never considered a future with them the way I did with J. But looking back, how on earth could I expect J to consider a future with me? Why would he want to tether himself to somebody who would blatantly run around on him with other guys right in his face? Sheesh. Stupid kids. Both of us really.

Then there were the college years. I hurt J big time when I told him that I had lost my virginity to another guy. Why did I tell him that when I was home on break the summer after freshman year? It was a misguided attempt to get him to show me he cared. J always kept me off balance, always stayed just aloof enough that I wasn’t ever sure if he really loved me. I realize now that he put up a wall as a type of protection for himself, but to me at the time it seemed as though I loved him so much more than he loved me. I felt like I was always on the verge of losing him, and I would do things (really stupid things) to try to get him to get off the fence and either love me or hate me. And he kept coming back (which should have told me something!) with his aloof indifference.
Only last Friday did he tell me just how hurt he was over all those things I did back then. Only then did I feel like I was way more perpetrator than victim in our relationship. Only then did I start some soul searching, and I am far from finished. On Saturday morning, I apologized to J for my treatment of him back then. I feel that my apology was far less than he deserved, but I’m also not sure what I could ever possibly do to make amends for my treatment of him.

I anticipate this being a big topic of conversation with my therapist on Wednesday.

Tuesday Therapy

Freud suggested that having a private journal where I write about my experiences and feelings pertaining to J, as well as other things, might be a good way for me to work through some of this. Hi there private journal, read only by invisible (not imaginary, very real, just invisible) internet friends and random strangers! Let’s see what tales I can tell today.

Yesterday’s session was brutal. I spent much of my time in tears, some of it sobbing, some just tears rolling down my face. I used many tissues. No wonder therapy is so expensive. Their paper goods bill alone must be daunting. It was bad that I had to go back to work afterwards because that meant I had to find a way to pull myself together and not look like a complete sack of shit, but it was good that I had a 15-20 minute drive across town to accomplish it.

While I have mentioned J, and our affair, in therapy it hasn’t really been the crux of conversation. Why? Well, since I’ve been seeing Freud J has kind of been a background character in my life rather than an all consuming obsession. I’ve had other things to worry about and therapize (not a real word, but I like it so I’m using it) about, such as:

• Getting my medical depression under control
• BJ’s and my breakup,
• W moving back in and my decision to turn martyr by allowing him to,
• My on again off again attempts to lose weight,
• My physical fling with M (Oh how I miss M sometimes, just from the physical release standpoint. A good orgasm occasionally is a miracle drug I tell you.),
• My ups and downs at work,
• My disagreements with W over parenting,
• My Dad’s death within three months after my grandmother’s.

Anyway, J came up occasionally, but never in any substantial way. Yesterday, he was right at the heart of it all.

 

One thing I will say for Freud is that he is completely unflappable. No matter what craziness I spew in session he takes it in stride never letting on that he might think I’ve gone round the bend. Why, yesterday he even told me that he doesn’t think I’m crazy at all. That’s comforting a little I guess, although what would truly be comforting is if he told me I was batshit (apparently this is not a real word either) crazy, and here’s the cure for it. Do this, and all the crazies will go away.

 

Anyway, I started with a rather detailed background to bring Freud up to speed, and really, it is terribly difficult to tell a 30+ year story in under an hour. You really have to do the Cliff Notes version, which I did, but I was also brutally honest. I figure that Freud can’t help me much if I don’t just put it all out there with as much honesty as possible.

 

So here, for those who haven’t read my blog in its entirety (And if you haven’t, why not? It’s fascinating and sickening all rolled into one, if I do say so myself), is a synopsis similar to the one I gave Freud. The History of J & me in a nutshell:

 

1977 – J & I start dating while in high school. (Yes, I really am that old. Shut up.)

 

1979 – I start college. J stays home with one more year of high school. J remains my “at home boyfriend” while I enjoy dating life on a major college campus

 

1983 – I graduate the first time from college and am “engaged” to a guy there although nobody knows of our engagement except him and me. I continue dating J when I’m home.

 

1984 – I graduate from college again, am still “engaged” and still dating J as well as a couple of others in other parts of the country (I travelled for work so it was easy to keep different guys different places).

 

1985 – Getting a bit tired of the “fiancé” but never broke it off, still dating J as well and starting to put a bit of pressure on J that perhaps we should get married and start a family. J says he’s not ready. I meet W and well, made one of the worst decisions of my life and ran off to CA with him without goodbyes to anybody.

 

1988 – Marry W after his divorce is final. Shortly thereafter receive letter from J saying that he’s now ready to get married and asks me to come back to him. Cry profusely as I read his letter and as I write one back to him telling him of my marriage. Felt absolutely trapped and unable to get out of the marriage to W because I was halfway across the country, estranged from my family, and totally dependent (at that time) on W financially.

 

~~~~~~and for many years W and TS live a life of ups and downs, goods and bads, adopted N~~~~~

 

2000 or so – God bless the interwebs and Classmates.com. I start to reconnect with high school buddies. Email back and forth with J a few times, just general catching up on what all has happened with marriages, children, jobs, and whatnot. And that’s it, for now.

 

2003 – Moved back to Midwest, within 80 miles of J, but no contact.

 

2004 – High school reunion. Made plans to go. Contacted J. He still lived in town and wanted to get together. I said sure maybe our families could have lunch together or something. He said no, how about just you and me? I said no. I got scared of what I might do and made up an excuse not to go to the reunion.

 

2006 – J contacts me, and we start flirting via email, then via phone, then in person, all leading to finally crossing the line “all the way” and have sex with one another for the first time ever (That's right people.  We dated several years in our teens and twenties and not once did we have sex.  Not that I wasn't willing.  He was just terrified of getting me pregnant, which sounds pretty funny now considering how "broken" the female parts turned out to be, like happened to his brother and his brother's girlfriend.  Lack of a sex life with J may have played a part in my dating a lot of others during those years.  Not that it excuses my behavior, just partially explains it.)

 

2007-Current – J and I carry on an ongoing emotional, and occasionally physical, affair throughout the BJ years and the W and me "reconciliation" and everything else.

  

Whew! Even condensed that is one damned long story.

  

Okay, hopefully in the next few days I’ll have a chance to write more and go into our actual discussion, short as it was. What great insights did Freud have to offer? What suggestions did he have for abolishing the crazy from my brain? What are my plans for Thanksgiving? This and more in our next episode…

Piece of My Heart

When I love someone I have a really hard time letting go, and what I've come to realize is that I never really do let go. Once I love you, I really do love you forever, and a piece of my heart forever belongs to you. I have loved multiple times in my life (and here I'm talking romantic love, not family love or Christian love but romantic stay-with-me-forever love), and each one of the men who I love hold a piece of my heart whether they know it or not. I've been thinking a lot about this lately, and have concluded that although I've tried at various times in my life to convince myself otherwise the fact remains that each and every one of these men has a hold on me -- a hold that I'm not sure is good or bad or just is -- and unless something big changes that, or me, I guess they always will.

There are four "loves of my life." No, I don't believe you'd know that from reading this blog. I'll bet if you've read long enough you could name three, but not four. There is one I don't believe I've ever mentioned here, at least not my love for him although he has made his way into a blog post or two.

So let's start with that mystery man, the one not mentioned before here, the very first love of my life. We attended high school together and dated for a long time (before J). He was the best, most wonderful, down to earth, smart, witty boy I had ever had the pleasure to know. I loved him as much as a teen girl can love her boyfriend. He said he loved me, but I don't know now if that was really so. We still have contact with one another on an occasional basis, but there has never been anything other than friendly banter between us via email. There never will be because he is married, presumably happily, and I will not step in where problems don't already exist. However, if he were to contact me tomorrow, tell me his marriage was over and that he missed me horribly and wanted to try again I would not hesitate since I am once again free. I have never shared this with anyone and couldn't even admit it to myself for a long, long time. I was so hurt by how he broke up with me in high school that I swore for years that he was nothing to me, nothing at all. What he really was was my very first love, the one I spent hours daydreaming about spending my life with, the one I hoped would be mine as much as I was his, the one who made a true success of his life, running his own business and living life on his terms. I am jealous of his wife, and I've never even met her.

The second man I love is, of course, J. J and I love each other in a way that I don't know others would understand. He drives me crazy when we're together too much, but on the other hand he is another imperfect human just trying to get through life the best he can. He and I both tend to need a partner whether or not it is the right one. Since he finally got to the point of wanting to get married he has spent little time single, jumping into marriage quickly after each divorce. I tend to be a bit like that myself, feeling the need to have someone at my side no matter what. I do think that our love for each other is real. I know mine is. I think his is too, but I could be wrong. Maybe he really is in it just for the occasional fuck when my resolve weakens, and we hook up (yes, more than has been mentioned previously on this blog).

The third man is W. It is my genuine love for him that has made splitting with him so terribly difficult. I do love the man even though he drives me absolutely batty with his crude ways and poor parenting skills and denial over having any faults at all. It is hard not to love a man who loves you unconditionally, who will stick by you even when you go absolutely bonkers, who will tolerate your worst behavior. It is hard to turn your back on him when he needs help, and goodness knows he needs help. He's being evicted where he's renting and is right now in the hospital following surgery earlier this week. My resolve to not let him back in the house is weakening, particularly since there is no other man in my life currently, with the exception of J, sort of, on occasion.

The fourth man, of course, is BJ. I love BJ. I wanted for BJ and me to work. I wanted it to be the relationship that would be for keeps, but it isn't. I know it isn't because it was too easy for him to let me go. It was too easy for him to say goodbye without tears, without remorse, without looking back. If he loved me as much as I love him it would tear him up to let me go the way it is tearing me up to let him go. As it is, he is just another man with a piece of my heart.

I wonder just how many pieces there are and if there are any left for anyone else. I think for the next couple of years the answer is that I can't give away another piece of my heart. For at least the next couple of years I can only watch out for #1 -- me and keep the rest of my heart safe from the perils of love.

Sunday Stealing: The "Leave It to Meme" Meme

1. Who was your FIRST date? Not naming names on here, but his initials were TMH. Our first date consisted of us meeting at the movie theater to see a matinee (I have no idea what was showing) where he put his arm around me. He walked me home. It was the start of many weekend matinees to come.

2. Do you still talk to your FIRST love? Occasionally. I was hoping he’d be at our high school reunion last weekend, but he wasn’t.

3. What was your FIRST alcoholic drink? A sip of Cold Duck when I was in eighth grade and spent New Year’s Eve with a friend and her mom let each of us have a tiny sip at midnight.

4. What was your FIRST job? Babysitting for the single mom who lived two doors down from my house.

5. What was your FIRST car? 1968 Maroon Buick LeSabre with black vinyl interior and no A/C.

6. Where did you go on your FIRST ride on an airplane? To Miami for a job interview.

7. Who was your FIRST best friend & do you still talk? Again no names but her initials were TR, and we were best friends when we were preschoolers. After my family moved after first grade we lost touch, and by the time I was old enough to try to track her down her family had moved so no, we don’t still talk.

8. Whose wedding did you attend the FIRST time? My dad’s secretary’s where I was the flower girl. I think I was four at the time. It was a traditional Catholic wedding so it was a very long time for a little girl to stay quiet and still. I remember one of the bridesmaids kept making me turn back around to face the front instead of looking at all the people out in the pews.

9. Tell us about your FIRST roommate. My first roommate’s name was Mary Sue, and it was our freshman year in college. To me her name sounded like such a nice down to earth name that I expected a nice down to earth girl. Instead I got a “rich bitch from hell” who wanted nothing to do with me because I abhorred sororities and fraternities, and she was the ultimate sorority bitch.

10. If you had one wish, what would it be (other than more wishes)? That N could learn the lessons one learns through hurtful experiences without having to actually have the hurtful experiences.

11. What is something you would learn if you had the chance? How to ride a motorcycle.

12. Did you marry the FIRST person you were in love with? No.

13. What were the first lessons you ever took and why? Piano lessons. . . when I was three. . . because my mom tired of listening to me pound on her precious piano so she decided to teach me how to play. Because of that I can’t even remember a time when I didn’t know how to read music or play the piano. It feels as though it is as natural as speaking English, the kind of thing you know you learned but don’t remember the process of learning it.

14. What is the first thing you do when you get home? Take off my shoes. I hate to wear shoes and even kick them off at work when I can, on planes, anytime I think I can get away with it. If I could, I would go barefoot all summer like I used to when I was a kid.

Weekend Update

So how was my weekend with Drama and The Man? Well, I’ll start by saying it took me this long to recuperate enough to write a post about it just in case that gives you some idea.

And now to the details. What to tell first? Hmm. . . Okay, okay. You’re dying to hear about The Man so I’ll give you my impression of him. (Keep in mind this impression was formed within less than 48 hours of meeting him so accuracy is not guaranteed.) I like him. He seems like a solid, decent guy. He has a steady job. He has spent a good deal of time helping Drama get settled in her new place, putting up blinds and shelves and things. He seems genuinely nice, and he seems to genuinely care about Drama. Are they meant for each other in the long term? I don’t know. Only they can decide that as time goes by. What I do know is that they seem to mesh well with each other’s personalities. I give The Man my thumbs up approval to date Drama. (As if she needed my approval, but hey it’s good when the friends get along with the main squeeze.)

Drama’s new place is furnished in early modern cardboard boxes. Heh, heh. She’s only been there a couple of weeks and is still unpacking. She does have walking paths through the apartment, and if I didn’t have such an amply sized booty I probably could’ve walked around without bumping into things and knocking things over. Fortunately, I didn’t knock much over (and nothing breakable), and I had nothing at all to do with the curtain rods falling all on their own on Sunday. Drama was worried that the mess would bother me, but I thought the place looked as well as could be expected given the short time she’s been there and the lack of storage space in the apartment. She worries too much.

Of course, my visit did nothing to help the unpacking process. She spent Saturday entertaining me, taking me to lunch with friends from her workplace, and that evening taking me to dinner and later an Irish pub with her divorce support group friends.

I came away from the pub with these observations:

• If you are a senior citizen it isn’t cute to spike your hair, wear skin tight clothes, and act like a teenage groupie over a band full of 20-somethings.


• If everyone is staring at you when you’re the only one dancing, that does not necessarily mean you are being favorably judged by those staring at you.


• Tact and manners is not your forte if you think it’s okay to try to wave over a band member, and upon being unsuccessful, walk over to him and ask "When is the f***ing music is going to start?"


• There is a difference between making polite conversation and conducting the grand inquisition. Asking someone to tell you about their children is polite conversation. Asking someone if they know who the baby daddy is when told of a pregnancy is not polite conversation.

It’s nice when outings can be an educational experience.

We didn’t stay out late like last year when I visited Drama. We got home early, around 11:00 p.m. I think. That doesn’t, however, mean that the party was over. Drama, The Man, Drama’s best friend, and I played a card/board game until the wee hours of the morning. There may have been a wee bit of drinking while playing. There may also have been a wee bit of laughter, and some incredibly interesting conversation. All I can say is I will never again hear the phrase “I’m parched” without at least snickering and perhaps laughing right out loud. Also, I will never again follow five beers with three Buttery Nipples. I’m too old to be that wild anymore. I suffered the consequences, and I don’t care to have any repeat performances. I haven’t drunk that much since my college days, when I swore I’d never drink that much again. I’m renewing that vow now. Hopefully, I’m old enough and wise enough to keep it this time.

If you ever make it to the great state of Illinois (we aren’t all corrupt politicians here you know, in spite of how it appears) I highly recommend partying with Drama. That is one girl who knows how to live. Oh, and invite me too. I’d hate to miss out on a good time.

The Big V Day

Valentine’s Day dawned with N crawling into bed with me, snuggling with me and announcing that he was hungry. I told him I’d have to shower and dress first, but then we could have a special Valentine’s treat by going to Starbucks for breakfast. He liked the sound of that and went off to play on his Playstation until I was ready.

At Starbuck’s he had his usual, tall hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin, while I had a grande non-fat mocha and a slice of lemon loaf. On the way, he wanted to drop off a Valentine card he had for W. W wasn’t at his apartment so N suggested we stop by Q’s place to drop it off. I reluctantly agreed. We drove over and, of course, W’s car was in the driveway. N trotted up and knocked on the door. There was no answer so he tucked the card in the storm door, and we left.

After our Starbuck’s breakfast we went home and exchanged Valentines. N had been lamenting for the last couple of weeks that in his whole life (all 10 years of it) he’d never received a heart-shaped box of candy. He was thrilled when I handed him a small heart-shaped tin with 4 chocolates in it. (They were 2 for $5 at Walgreen’s so it seemed a reasonable enough expense.)

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was spent doing chores like laundry and attending a meeting at church. When we arrived home BJ had just arrived, and when we went inside I found his Valentine’s presents (yes plural) to me. Nothing big but I was very touched at his thoughtfulness and thought that what he gave me was just perfect (not to mention delicious since what’s not to love about chocolate, especially when combined with nuts and maybe just a bit of caramel). I gave him his card and a tin of candy identical to the one I gave N. (Hey! Two for $5. I’m on a budget.)

The three of us sat around and played Uno until it was almost time to go to dinner. We (the three of us) attended a dinner put on by the college group at church as a fundraiser for their spring break mission trip. It was great! The food was excellent, and in addition, there was music and an original play put on by the students. All in all it was a really good time, and we didn’t have to fight the Valentine’s Day crowds at a restaurant. I was a little worried W would show up with Q at the dinner and more worried that, given past behavior, they would sit at the same table with us. Fortunately, they were no shows. I breathed a big sigh of relief.

After the dinner we returned home, and I soon had N tucked into bed for the night. I finished the laundry and put clean sheets on the bed. BJ came to bed, and well, let’s just say we may or may not have done more than immediately fall asleep.

All in all it was a really fine Valentine’s Day.
____________________________________________________

And on another front, my laptop is down with an apparent virus. Therefore, no internets time from home, and of course, I can't spend all work day online. I'm missing out big time. Wish I had the money to call in the Geek Squad on this one. Unfortunately, I don't. Plus I'm scared to fire it up to fuck it up try to do anything myself. So there you have it. I'm an online addict with no fix. Trembling much? Yeah, like all freakin' weekend people, all freakin' weekend.

I'll Hang Around as Long as You Will Let Me

I had this post all written, but somehow Blogger ate it. So here's the recreated version, a mere shadow of the original.


This post is an attempt to make sense of my nonsense. As I wrote it the first time I came around to some insights into myself and my relationships with men. These insights are things that I know, and I know that I know these things, but occasionally I need something to hit me upside the head to remind me. Whack! That's what writing this post did for me. Then Blogger ate it, and to tell you the truth maybe that's a good thing. I think the way it was written could have caused me more problems than I need. Hopefully, I can word things better (like not calling myself a sleazy skanky whore) this go round.

What I've been thinking about, and trying to figure out, has to do with my reactions to three men -- W, J, and BJ. The last 2-3 weeks I've been a big pile of emotions, not all of which made me very proud of myself. I have reacted badly to things that all three of these men have said and/or done.

First, I struggled with W being with Q. I've said over and over that it's just all about N and what impact it has on him. Yes, and denial is more than a river in Egypt. Truth be told I felt like I lost W in a way that I hadn't before. Between Q moving in and me finding out about the financial crater W's dug for himself it became crystal clear to me that there is no possibility of turning back now. It is over -- for real and for good. Even though I've said for the longest time that's what I wanted, and I truly believe we are better without each other than with each other, there's this part of me that wanted, and wants, to still hang on to W and can't quite let go.

Second, I think I reacted to J's email like I did because on some level even though I know that when we're around each other a lot he drives me batty I still can't quite shake the "what could have been" thoughts, and I kind of like having him there for me (and it's been that way since my college days) when I want him there for me. Anyway, part of me was just plain ticked that he could move on and marry #3 rather than pine away for me.

Then the third thing is about BJ. I spent a good part of the last two weekends being peeved at BJ for little things, but mostly it all came down to his feline-like independence and aloofness running afoul of my puppy dog-like clinginess. I want more than anything for this man to want me, to want to spend time with me, to share in my life with me and to let me share in his life with him. Too much of the time I feel like there’s a bubble around him, an invisible barrier that I can’t penetrate. I want him to yearn for me the way I yearn for him, to have spending time with me be a priority for him like it is for me. Instead I get time with him when it suits him and his schedule. If we have a weekend available to us, he’ll spend time doing this and that and sundry things while I wait for him to be ready to spend time with me. I feel like I am forever waiting for it to be my turn to have his attention for a while. Is it a philosophy of “always leave them wanting more”? I don’t know, but I indeed do want more. I want to be his priority even sometimes. I want him to be willing to sacrifice sleeping in just every once in a while to do something that I want to do together. I want him to see me as being as important as a good night’s sleep, and right now I feel like I will never achieve that level of importance to him. I will never ever be anything but second to his desire to sleep late, and no matter how hard I try (and believe me I’ve tried and tried) I can’t seem to let go of the hurt I felt when he refused to come hear me preach at church simply because it was too early in the day for him. I will always be the one to compromise my schedule to fit his. This is my fear. Sometimes I wonder if it is his way of getting back at me for me having N as my number one priority.

Okay, so I put all of these things together along with one of the insights I'd had in my "Weight Weight Don't Tell Me" series of posts where I said "It seemed that nobody could ever give me enough comfort, enough love, enough reassurance to make me feel good about myself. It would be a long time before I would come to the understanding that I had to look inside myself for that, not out to the rest of the world, or the next unlucky guy that asked me out on a date." Here's what I get out of all of this: because I don't feel secure enough in my relationship with BJ I feel a need to grasp at the bits and pieces that other men are out there offering me no matter how little or how inadequate they are. I'm trying to somehow piece together a comfort level for myself, and it simply isn't working for me.

If I were a stronger person it would be easier to turn my back on W and on J, and put my energies only into my relationship with BJ knowing that if it didn't work out in the end that I'd be fine on my own. As it is, I don't feel that I'd be fine on my own so rather than risk ending up on my own if somehow things didn't work out with BJ I cling to whatever small pieces are available to me from others. Now, the ironic thing is that by my very act of clinging to those pieces I could very well push BJ away thereby bringing about the very thing that I'm trying to avoid.

And it all boils down to this -- I need to become more secure in myself, to trust that I can take care of myself and don't need to have a man there to shore me up. Only when I can do that am I going to be any good as a partner for anybody.

Next Up: Peace in the Middle West

Regarding this post I want to do a little follow up. I’m not sure it all came across the way I intended, and even if it did I want to share a little of the conversation W and I had that night about the issues I had, and some I didn’t even know I had.

The parts about that previous post that I thoroughly enjoyed were (1) finding out that his financial life isn’t all that he makes it out to be and (2) sending the Credit Card Guy to calling him way earlier than he cares to be awoken in the morning.

There were plenty of parts I didn’t like such as (1) finding out that his financial life is as much a shambles as it would have been for years had I not been the one in our marriage to rein in the out-of-control spending so I fear he will be broke almost as soon as I pay him for his share of the equity in the house, (2) realizing just how important it is to legally rid myself of him and his money woes, and probably most importantly (3) finding out that N was privy to what I considered way TMI with regard to Q. In addition, N had talked to me just the night before about issues he has with W and Q. I told him he would need to take up those issues with W to which he replied that Q is always around so he can’t talk to W privately.

All of that led to my final statement of the post that if I didn’t get what I considered appropriate responses from W regarding my concerns I would head straight into my attorney’s office and start handling things on a whole new level.

At lunchtime that day I tried to call W and naturally got voicemail. No surprise there. I left him a message asking that we talk that evening by phone over some issues that N had raised with me that had me concerned. In the middle of the afternoon, W called me at work, oblivious that I’d left him a message, said he’d never gotten it, to tell me he and Q were going out of town for the afternoon/evening. (like I care; I am not sure his point here other than liking to rub my nose in the fact that he has someone now; truth be told I could care less what they do when or where as long as it doesn’t impact N, and he wasn’t scheduled to have N that day at all so there was no reason to tell me his/their plans; whatever) I told him that in the message I asked if we could talk later that evening after N was in bed or sometime the next day. He agreed to talk later that evening.

(Okay, okay, I know this is a lot of detail, probably more than you want to know, but I’m kind of using this blog as documentation for myself in case I need it later in the divorce proceedings so bear with me here. (I almost wrote “bare” instead of “bear.” Heh, heh. Now that could lead to something more interesting.))

Fast forward to later that evening following N and I attending a heartbreaking Illini loss to Clemson in the ACC/Big Ten Challenge, returning home and getting N to bed. I call W. He starts the conversation by saying that he thinks he knows what I want to discuss. Really? He thinks it has to do with some bad language. I, having not a clue what he was referencing but assuming Q must have a mouth on her, played dumb and asked if N had been using language of which we don’t approve. Oh no, he assured me, N hadn’t said anything inappropriate. Ah, I said, so Q was the one? Yes, he explained that Q had used some language that has never been allowed in our family (at least in front of N) and that N had given W “the look” when it happened. W assured me that he had spoken to Q about it, and there would no longer be a problem. Okay, well there was one problem we had that I didn’t even know before, but at least it appeared to be resolved. (May I also say here and now that I have never had any problem at all with BJ acting and speaking inappropriately around N. BJ and I, when by ourselves, may talk with coarser language, but never in front of N. It wasn’t even something we ever had to discuss, ever.)

Moving on, I told W that wasn’t what I had wanted to discuss, but I was glad he shared it with me. I started with N’s complaint that he has no time when he can talk to W privately. I explained that I try to encourage N to take up issues he has with W or Q with W directly, but that N tells me he can’t because Q is always right there. W started to dispute that he and N have no time together without Q. However, he then went into how it will soon be better once she starts her job next week, and she won’t be around during the day so that when he has N after school it will be just the two of them. I told him that he needs to talk to N about it and provide N with a way to approach him to talk about things without Q’s participation. He agreed. (at least verbally he agreed, whether he follows through may be a very different story)

I then broached the subject of TMI being shared inappropriately. I told W that I have no interest in what his and Q’s relationship is or what other relationships Q may or may not have, but N needs to have good examples set for him. That may mean not talking about certain things in his presence. That may mean modifying behavior in his presence. It definitely means that I will not stand by and allow my son to be exposed to ideas and concepts that are beyond his years. While W argued that N misconstrued things that had been said (and I agree that N has a way of twisting things sometimes) I said that it is important that we help him understand when he misunderstands and do our best to keep his best interests as our #1 priority. He agreed. (at least verbally he agreed, whether he follows through may be a very different story)

My next issue for discussion was W and I needing to be able to discuss things related to N and our divorce without Q’s participation and input. I shared with him my discomfort when she was unable to stay out of simple discussions that take place when I pick N up at his apartment. I feel it is completely inappropriate for her to offer her input when W and I are talking about N’s welfare. I offered that perhaps it is because she doesn’t have children that she doesn’t understand boundaries (and that applies to most of the issues that I have with her). I also explained that if I am hesitant to engage in conversation with him in her presence that is the reason. I will no longer speak to him about such things in her presence and will defer any discussions that he tries to initiate in her presence. I reminded him that I always tried to stay out of his relationships with his first family, not interjecting into their discussions or disagreements. If I felt I had input to offer him I would do it only after the fact, in private just to him. I expect Q to show that same respect. He agreed and said he would address it with Q. (at least verbally he agreed, whether he follows through may be a very different story)

My final issue that I raised was Q living with W. I told him that it made me uncomfortable, particularly given the issues above. I told him that I have always made it very clear to N when he asks about BJ and me that I’m not willing to go there until the divorce is final. I told W that I think it is a very bad example to set for N to have a girlfriend (or boyfriend) move in when any of the parties are still married. At this point, W assured me that Q living with him is a temporary thing, until Q finds a place of her own. I guess I’m glad that this conversation was taking place over the phone so W couldn’t see my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I couldn’t help but think that when I moved up here it took me one weekend to find a place to rent. Of course, I was looking for cheap and temporary so it wasn’t quite the same thing. Even still she ought to find something in a couple of weeks I would think. We shall see.

I reminded him that I was trying to make this a cooperative thing, not an adversarial thing. Like it or not, we have to deal with each other for at least another eight years until N is no longer a minor.

The upshot is that W was cooperative enough (for now) to keep me from dragging the attorney into it (for now).

An uneasy truce has settled upon the land.

-----------------------------------------

Oh, and as an aside, there were several points in the conversation where I got the feeling that there may be trouble in paradise over at W's place. Hmm, perhaps being together 24/7 this last week or so isn't all it's cracked up to be. Can't imagine why that could be. I mean, after all, they've known each other for at least a month. That should be plenty of time to decide to live together, right? /snark

First Date

I went out on a first date last night. It was great! I picked him up at his place, and we went out for dinner and then attended a show.

Dinner was nice, nothing fancy, just sandwiches and salads at a café. We chatted and gazed in each others’ eyes as we ate. There was a comfort between us not often found on first dates. After dinner, we drove to the local theater for an NPR event, This American Life. We got there early because we knew it would be crowded, and we wanted decent seats. He took my hand soon after we sat down, and we held hands throughout the entire event. It was a live event held in New York but beamed out to theaters across the nation. Ira Glass is one of the few people who looks similar to how I pictured him when listening to him on the radio. He was witty and engaging as he always is on the radio, and has a way of making me feel like he’s talking just to me, telling me some story of someone he’s interviewed. My date wasn’t the NPR junkie that I am so had no idea what it would be like. Afterwards, he told me that he loved the show and wanted to go listen to a podcast or two from their website.

I took him back to his place. We sat in the car and made out briefly before he went inside, and I returned home to N. We’ll be seeing each other again tonight.

Life certainly is weird when your first date with someone comes more than a year and a half after first meeting him, spending weekends with him, and sleeping with him numerous times. We sure have gone at this thing bass ackwards. At least we’ve now gotten past the first date! LOL