Soul searching…and spinning…

I couldn’t keep my discretion to myself.  I told Twin what happened with my old friend.  Twin was clearly hurt and quietly upset, but handled it well.  I almost thought maybe I hadn’t needed to even tell him, such was his quiet demeanor.  He asked a few basic questions, Was that Thursday when I couldn’t reach you?  Was that pack of cigarettes I asked you about his?

All of which I answered honestly:  Yes, yes, yes….  I’m so sorry.  I really feel horrible.  I’m sick to my stomach.  You deserve much better. So on and so on.

And Twin kept saying, we don’t have to talk about this right now.  I would respond, I’ll lose my nerve if we don’t.  I just feel so dirty and ashamed.

I felt even more like trash when I texted my friend and told him how guilty I felt for what had happened and that I’d felt my boyfriend deserved to know.  And my friend responded, WHAT?!!!   I wasn’t aware you were still dating him.  You didn’t mention it so I assumed you weren’t seeing him anymore or I never would have gone so far. I was hoping to keep seeing you, I just wanted to take it slow because there are kids involved. I really like being with you, sexually and otherwise.  I always have.

I just responded it wasn’t his fault, I was sorry and that I really had some soul searching to do.

OMG….I just suck.  Now, I’ve hurt two people!  And I never intended to hurt anyone!!

The next day Twin asked if we could talk again.  He came over and was so kind and understanding.  So much so, I  just felt worse and worse.  He asked if it was a test; was I testing him?  Did I have feelings for this guy?

I don’t know, Twin.  I’ve been friends with him so long, of course I have feelings for him, but I have no clue exactly what they are.  I mean, I have feelings for you too.  I really care so much about you and I don’t understand how this happened.

Twin talked about how he was scared of his feelings for me after all that his ex-wife had done.  He talked of being in love with me and how difficult it was for him to have such strong feelings. He asked if maybe this was his fault because he wasn’t excessively demonstrative of his feelings for me.

NO!  That’s not it, Twin.  You’re wonderful to me!  And I didn’t want to hear any of this. I just didn’t know the appropriate response.

Then Twin wants to make out…or more… or whatever!  AHHH GEESH! NO, NO, NO!!  WTF?!  This seriously annoys me and my guilt just quadruples at my annoyance.  Ughhhh….I can’t escape this disastrous mess!

Twin and I fall asleep on my sofa.  I’m restless though and have weird dreams and I awake around 4 AM to him trying to kiss me again….OMFG….NOOOOOOOO!

I make excuses and grab my phone.  There’s a text message from late the evening before after I had fallen asleep.  It’s my friend and he has simply texted, I think you and I should be together!  Or at least give it a try.

Whoaaaaaaaaa….my head starts spinning…reeling even!  And Twin is right next to me, so I close the text and toss the phone aside, trying to mask my serious shock and mass confusion.

I really need Twin to leave.  My thoughts, my emotions were swirling around so fast I felt like the world was turning so fast.

I knew there has always been a huge chemistry between my friend and I, from the moment we were introduced, there was electricity.  We had gone on a few dates years ago even after we first met, but I was still carrying on with my ex-boyfriend (THE ex….the absolute one and only love of my life), so I was emotionally unavailable to the extreme.  Thus, it never went anywhere, except to create some friction between friend and I for a while.

And since then, I’ve just never thought of dating friend.  Yeah, the attraction is undeniable and perhaps I should have realized that once my vastly resilient bond to THE ex-boyfriend loosened, that this might happen.  I just wasn’t thinking…..obviously.  I mean clearly NOT thinking AT ALL.

GAWDDDD, what a mess I’ve made!

Crazy Psycho Stalker Bitches UNITE

Running search engine terms stats in previous 24 hours:

M:  119

Nude midgets: 2 (and seriously, wtf does my blog have about THAT?)

Twizzlers: 1

Oh yeah...they're out there!

Twist of fate.  I wrote a post awhile back (FB aka SNWMD (social networking weapon of mass destruction) about what a FBUW I am and this lovely redhead who got irate because I posted, “hey, what’s up?” on her boyfriend’s FB page.  As ridiculous as that response was, I respected it and opted not to post on my friend’s (her boyfriend) page again.

Shortly after that time, I went to the beach with this couple and we had a really nice day.  I was a little leery of Red and her possible insane jealous side, but I was really grateful to get the chance to know her a little.  After all, I’ve been friends with her guy for a super long time and I’d prefer we just get along.  Nothing too friendly occurred, but hey, it was a step in a positive direction.

I respected her “jealousy” and ceased posting anything at all on her man’s page.  I even friended her on FB in a show of complete truce-making spirit.  It’s been almost a year since the FB comment which set her off and I felt things were at a more even keel when I finally again posted something light hearted and innocent on my FB page regarding her boyfriend. I hadn’t seen him in a while and he just recently returned from a trip abroad when I ran into him, literally in passing,  and we shared a brief exchange.

I was walking out the door of my local Cheers-type pub.  He was just coming in and I said, Hey L…now that you’ve travelled the world, you probably don’t think I’m the wittiest girl you know anymore huh?  I say this as I give him a hug and continue on to the parking lot.  He quips back to me, Ahhhhh….don’t fret, Kay, you’re still definitely in my top three wittiest people ever!”

I squeal with delight as I jump in my car, I’m still in!  I’m still in!

It’s playful.  It’s fun.  It’s very brief and even more innocent.  And that is that.

So feeling confident that Red no longer sees me as the threat she did a year ago, I boast on FB about this little compliment, tagging L in said post.  “After flitting about the world a bit, my dear friend L still says I’m still in the top three wittiest people.  Oh how I heart a person who can appreciate my wit!”

I don’t see anything wrong with this post and I actually feel confident Red will click “like” on it and/or make a witty comment about it.  She’s pretty witty herself from what I can tell…beyond the jealousy bit.

What I don’t expect was an outright vicious attack on me right there, in FB public!!  All random and psycho like for the FB world to see, i.e., my friends, family, co-workers, etc, etc.  Geesh, do I underestimate the insanity of Red-Hot jealousy or what?!  Yeah, I do. Ummm…..M is for MORTIFIED!

Red calls me narcissistic and vain and brings up how she feels I exercise no boundaries because I applied sunscreen to her boyfriend’s back that day at the beach!

WHAT?  Is this for freakin’ real?  I’m taken aback, flustered, mortified, and enraged all at once.  Are you kiddin’ me?  I didn’t post anything out of line or inappropriate.  I didn’t say, Dear friends, family, and random co-workers, my friend L thinks I’m the hottest chick in the universe, or the most desirable, or the greatest, or the sexiest kitten ever.  Nope.  Just that I’m witty damnit.  Yeah, just witty.  And hell, not even the wittiest of them all, but just still in the top three.  WTF?!

So Red and I have an (OMG!) little drama fest on FB, posting back and forth about this craziness. I should have merely deleted my post, I know….  Yet, I just felt after her wordy, scathing attack, to delete it was somehow to concede to the truth of her words.  Thus, I did not take the high road and I simply continued to defend my innocent and light-hearted, non-malicious and non-threatening post.

As this embarrassingly continued, I did realize on several occasions, trying to win an argument with a paranoid psycho-crazy jealous chick was not a sane battle at all.  After all, I had reason and sanity on my side.  Whereas she, had paranoia and imagination on hers.  Not a good battle to participate in.  It’s much like taking a knife to a gun slinging show down.  Ya just don’t have all the right ammunition for this particular battle.

Finally, a mutual friend intervenes and reminds us how truly ridiculous this all is and we quiet down.  In addition, Red posts about all kinds of challenges she’s faced while dating my very well liked, sociable, and VERY friendly friend.  And I really feel bad. REALLY bad!  I had no idea that so many women had swarmed my buddy while he dated her.  And suddenly I felt compassion for her craziness and pondered the possibility that, like me at another point in my dating life, she had suffered enough insecurity and challenge in this relationship to possibly bring her to the brink of sanity.  Hell, I’ve been there, crossed into that world of sheer freakin’ madness, and finally returned, albeit forever altered as a human being,  carrying the mental and emotional scars that kind of relationship can create, if we allow them.

And I feel for her situation, her madness, and even her insane level of jealousy.  I see my post from another angle and although I still see it as completely faultless and truly innocent, I suddenly can understand how a mind already damaged from jealousy might see it and overreact.

Finally, L himself responds to this thread.  He comes to my defense about the sunscreen application, but in so doing, he inadvertently shows it as an intentional maneuver on his part.  It seems Red had applied sunscreen to a friend of his one day when  I wasn’t there and L was a bit jealous, so he asked me to apply it to him in front of Red.  I’m sure in an attempt to provoke the jealousy he already knew she had for my relationship with him.  Ughhh!  I’m a pawn in the chess game of their dysfunctional relationship!  And I feel used and dirty!

…And I feel even worse for Red, as this mean trick shows itself fully in the naked light of L’s inadvertent confession.  Poor Red.  No wonder she’s freakin crazy!!  He’s trying to make her that way!!  That rat bastard friend of mine!  As much as I love my friend (and I truly do), being a woman…being a woman who has been on the other end of these maddening games…a woman who always tried to rise above jealousy and jealousy games… I ultimately have to pick the side of the female on this one.  Every time.  Yeah, I have to have the chick’s back on this and call bullshit shenanigans.  Way too many passive aggressive men have instigated this garbage only to calmly sit back and laugh with friends about “some psycho chick”.  Fuck that!  No.  I want NO part of that crap. And I’ll not take being used like that kindly.  Oh HELL no!

I went to bat for Red in a conversation with L and told him in no uncertain terms that I did not approve or appreciate being put into that kind of passive aggressive meanness.  We women have it tough enough being in competition with the world for so many things:  Men, jobs, dating, looks, money, security, weight; God, it’s hard enough to be female in this damned world.  I will not go against a woman in the “make her look like a psycho crazy chick to feed my dull minded limp male ego” game! NUHHHH UHHHHH!

So I had drinks and conversation with L Friday night.  Told him I loved him to pieces but did not appreciate that garbage.  And then I had a three hour heart-to-heart with Red Saturday morning.  I like her.  I feel badly that I was ever put in that position, as I’m the least threat to her ever and that kind of jealousy toward my friends-only friendship with L was just unwarranted and a mean, mean trick.

Strangely enough, I’ve heard from a few people that Red actually is a “whack job” (yes, that’s a quote). And I’m a diehard for the underdog about these things because I still have to give her the benefit of the doubt until she shows her whacked self to me in a situation where I don’t happen to find out it was instigated by another’s sly maneuvers of insecurity.  I also realize these things usually come around to bite me in the ass in a very nasty way, but for the freakin’ jack ass guy who played similar shit-shenanigans on  me a few years back, I just hope at least one person he bragged about me being his psycho stalker (or whatever the hell lying ass phrase he used) might have stopped just for a moment to question before stitching that unfair and untrue label on me:  yeah, that looked kind of crazy, but what in the hell happened just before she responded that way?!  Damnnnn, that dude must have really fucked with that chick’s head….

Right.  So probably not.  It’s doubtful many people stop to ponder that far into things which have little to do with them.  They’re most likely just excited to seize a terrific piece of juicy gossip to make themselves feel superior about their own little miserable worlds.  So, evven though I can’t possibly know if these things ever do really come full circle into karmic justice, but hell, I have to do what I can to see that they do……..for all the “psycho stalker chicks” out there in the world!

This one might be nice...

Now, I just have to come up with the secret handshake for our club.  …Or maybe we can all just get machetes tatooed on our chest.

A post totally unrelated to dating, debauchery or humor…a tragic lesson in listening.

I’m a mom…a single mom to be exact. I’ve been a single mom for the most part of 13 years. I’ve met more children over the years than I could ever accurately recall. I’ve driven them around, cooked them dinners and breakfasts, I’ve chatted with them, listened to their problems with parents or other friends. I’ve connected with many children through this time. Of course, some I enjoyed more than others. Some had flat personalities or lacked manners. Some, I felt kinda sorry for and tried maybe a little harder to be extra kind. Some, I worried might not be good influences on my children. In my years as a mom, clearly my experiences with children have run the gamut.

However, a few months ago, I met a (then) 13 year old child who stood out from the others; a young boy who somehow compelled my attention. He literally compelled my affection, in that instantaneous sorta way that is rare in the world of a parent. I can say with absoluteness that from the very moment I was introduced to this boy, I just wanted to be/stay in his presence. It wasn’t just that the boy had the extremely good looks which screamed “future magazine model”, with his caramel skin and dark, wildly curly locks of amazing hair that would make even a grown woman envious. Truly a visual delight, this child seemed to need no more to be adored by all, but to simply wake up in the morning. After all, I know first-hand how superficial the popularity standards of teenagers are. This boy could have easily captured the heart of every teen girl he came in contact with. And the boy’s captivating persona wasn’t just from his oh-my-God-in-Heaven delightfully warm smile. Although this smile…..this smile…ahhhh…it almost defies description in that all the usual words one might use to describe a beautiful smile just seem to fall short of accuracy for this smile. Bright, encompassing, infectious…this boy’s smile was the innocent frolic of toddlers on a playground. A smile which radiated the warmth and joy of a long, refreshing day on the beach. When it was directed at you, it emitted the warmth of the brightest sunny day and quite possibly could have thoroughly warmed your skin on the coldest, dreariest day. And even if it might not have had that kind of literal physically warming ability, it absolutely exuded enough energy to warm even the most hatefully cold heart. This boy’s entire being simply defies all narrative. I have wanted to write of him for days, but the struggle to catch a truly accurate depiction of his beauty, his persona, his energy, or his personality, has kept me from so doing… The challenge to depict him accurately with words makes me beg for better writing skills, a bigger vernacular and vocabulary, and cries of my sudden and total lack of skill in this area. No exaggeration! Knowing this child, makes me want to be a better writer merely so I might truly capture his essence with my words and help others who don’t know him think they’ve seen, felt and known him. And in that sense, as well as so many others, that is why this post and my abilities will fall short and this will become a post of loss on every level. So let me accept my limitations here and jump forward to my experience of this boy.

The last time I held a conversation with him, he and his best friend were in my home, visiting my daughter. We had only been living in this house a short time and things were not yet in place. There was a beautiful heavy black bench in the basement which I had wanted in my living room for weeks. I grabbed this opportunity to have these two healthy strong boys carry this heavy as hell bench up the long basement stairway, through my kitchen and dining room, into my living room. When I asked the boys if they would help me with this, one boy just shrugged his shoulders in submission and the other smiled big, eagerly nodding, actually wanting to help with this tedious and trying task. How amazing is that? The boys stayed till well after midnight. The kids had all been watching scary movies and scattering popcorn all over my living room…leaving tons of blankets and pillows in their wake as well as countless junk food wrappers. So, as if my impressed opinion of this boy was not already at an unusually high level, as the one boy got his coat and shoes on, preparing to leave, the other simply started cleaning up the mess that all five kids had made! He didn’t ask or wait to be asked, he just started doing the utterly unbelievable for a young teenage boy.

I’ll never be certain as to exactly what it was about this particular child that not only made me want to gush all over him with praise, but also made me want to reach out to him. This urge defied the huge smile he wore on his beautiful face and even the happy spirit he exuded naturally…it was just a strange, strange thing… So not wanting to overstep my boundaries or his…or heaven forbid, make him uncomfortable, I chose to ignore this compelling urge to reach out and hug him. Instead, I simply gave him my most genuinely heart-felt smile, and said with conviction as I looked him directly in his eyes, “K…you are welcome in our home ANY time at all.” Yeah…I sorta blew off my intuition as the possible paranoid parenting of a former child abuse worker and feebly attempted to address it passively in a half-joking but sincere manner. And that was that.…

Only I didn’t stop thinking about this boy. I couldn’t stop thinking about this boy. My maternal instincts, my intuition,my  I don’t know, but over the following weeks, this boy was on my mind at least a few times a day. I actually asked my daughter about him a few times – as in, why don’t you invite that boy,  K,  over again? When my daughter and I discussed him, she always talked of what an amazing friend this boy was and how he sat next to her in several classes. She was particularly fond of the way he could make her smile and laugh on even the roughest or grumpiest day. He’s just that kind of guy, Momma..always kind to everyone at the school…always smiling that gargantuous, gorgeous smile and making people laugh. Every body loves K!  I was realizing this kid was clearly adored by many…and had more friends than could be counted and was “popular” in every clique at their middle school and beyond; a rare feat for middle school if you had a typical middle school experience like I did… And my strange concern diminished as the weeks passed. Yet, I can’t say I stopped thinking of him, more that I just randomly would think about him and instantly reassure myself of how silly my over protective nature can be.

On Friday February 4th, I was home alone a bit bored, browsing Facebook to pass the time and through my daughter’s posts, I happened upon this boy’s Facebook. Of course I go to his page to check it out. I smiled just looking at his page. I pondered being the “weird mom” and sending him a hello email, just telling him what a great friend he’d been to my daughter and how grateful I was, as well as reiterating his welcome in our home and chiding him for not having visited in a few weeks. Decided against sending the email and then clicked the “add as a friend” button. I sat for a few moments looking at the confirmation “Do you really want to add K as a friend” or whatever it says…. Indecision took over and I clicked cancel…thinking I’d just tell my daughter to tell him hello and to get his butt over to visit soon, and firmly deciding that was probably more appropriate. Thinking to myself, I’ll just tell him to add me as a friend the next time he’s over and do a re-check of that odd intuitive feeling I got from him.

My daughter came home from a friend’s Saturday afternoon and she and her friend hung out here for a while…mostly ignoring me as usual! Around 7 PM, they came out of her room and she walked her friend to the front door. When she turned around she came running over to me, threw herself in my lap and sobbed, K killed himself tonight Momma! What? Umm…you’re crying so hard honey, I can’t understand you. What did you say? She repeats herself, K killed himself Momma. My stomach literally flipped as my heart took a nose dive straight down into my gut… I can’t possibly have heard her right. I had to remind myself to breathe as pictures of K’s huge smile flashed in my head….and I couldn’t help but to look over to my right at the heavy black bench he had carried up and sat on, putting his shoes on, right before he last left our house. I was sure I was going to vomit. This was impossible. This was a horrible rumor. This was beyond tragic. Beyond sickening. Beyond devastating… No! It was a mistake. It had to be. K’s beautifully handsome face, K’s gorgeous smile, his amazing hair, his warm kind energy, the entire essence of this phenomenal child was just too fresh….too physically still available even just  in our house. This was the cruelest rumor/joke/mistake ever. It had to be. I know…not K…Momma, not K!!!!! No. My daughter had not believed it either and thus, had already verified it beyond a doubt. K had committed suicide about 6 PM that Saturday night, by shooting himself in the back of his head.

It is the strangest phenomena I’ve ever experienced in my life. The unbelievable impact this beautiful child had had on me in only a brief amount of shared time. And he was gone just that fast. As we attended his visitation and funeral a few days later, I kept wondering why I hadn’t just done and said what I wanted to this child. Why I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him….WHY I hadn’t sent him that thank you email. Why I hadn’t listened to that funny feeling I’d gotten in the pit of my stomach, telling me to look past this kid’s incredibly infectious smile and see beneath his light hearted exterior… A million why’s fill my head as I comfort my children and attempt to reach a state of acceptance for this totally unacceptable horror. I know there will never be answers or sense of such a truly senseless tragedy for any of the hundreds of friends and family members this nightmare has affected. And although it will never seem enough: not good enough or soon enough…just never ever, EVER enough, I vow to never again ignore, deny, or shoo away that God given gift of intuition, even if it does mean I’m the “weird Mom”, the nosy Mom, the interrogative Mom, whatever… I try to tell myself this child had a huge family and hundreds of adoring friends. So I couldn’t have made a difference. I wouldn’t have…right? Just like the perpetually unanswered “why’s”, I’ll never know for certain because I didn’t bother to even try.

Homeless by design of the Rat Bastard

11.12.10

“I never want to see you again! If you know what’s good for me, you’ll leave me alone!” These are the words I screamed to someone who once was my hero. I thought he was caring, loving, considerate, and the best dad ever, but as he crumbles my heart with his bare hands, at the same time telling me that “it’s what’s best for me,” and causing tears of lies and betrayal to stain my face, realization finally sinks in; he is not my hero, but instead it’s the person who held me tight, stroking my hair, and telling me that everything was going to be alright, even though we both knew it wouldn’t be. Yes, my hero is indeed that person, and she happens to be my mom. I know, it sounds like a childish thing to say and that maybe by now I should have a more significant person to choose, but in my world, she is the most significant person who will ever walk into my life. (Written by LD for an 8th grade English assignment on “Who’s your hero?”)</em>

For three months we lived there. We trustingly packed every belonging we ever owned or cared about and moved 2,000 miles away from any friend or family member other than him. No, I didn’t have a job when we moved. Apparently, that wasn’t a huge issue to anyone except me…at least not in the beginning. Yet, moving into a very expensive rental house in a nice suburb of the city was beyond uncomfortable for me with no income at the onset. So, as the months passed and I wasn’t finding work, my patience for this situation grew as thin as a balloon stretched beyond its capacity, actually about to the point where if one might simply brush against the damned thing it would POP! Yeah…not a good scenario…

The first week of my daughters’ school, after dropping them off, I was rear-ended by another car. This shook me up, but I blew it off with some deep breathing and soaking in a hot bath for a few evenings afterward. The guy was honest, saying, “You know, I just wasn’t paying attention. I’m really sorry.” No worries, I said as I checked out the damage to my car. It was minimal, so I said, Hey, let’s just forget about it. The distracted, but kind gentleman responded, “Thank you! That’s very nice of you. I’m really sorry.”

Yeah, seriously, no worries…the car was still drivable and that’s what mattered most to me – that I had a car to drive my children to and from school in a still-strange city, and 30 miles back and forth to cheer practice five evenings a week, and a method by which to get to my job (once I found one). No big deal. Accidents happen. How many times have I driven along not paying any attention anyway? Ummm more than I want to admit! Have a great day and take care!

Prior, during, and after this rear-end episode, my ex was being beyond a douche bag. Insulting, belittling, and worst of all entirely apathetic to any of my concerns or worries about our daughters. My youngest was typically crying for at least an hour after every visit with dad. This was particularly bad on cheer practice days when he criticized her no matter how hard she was trying to learn a sport she had just started a few weeks after moving here; several years behind the other girls on the team whom he regularly “compared” her against publicly and privately.   I was so proud of her resolve. He would insult her and she’d come home, cry for a while and then the very next day she would say to me smiling big and confidently, “I’m so excited for cheer tonight Momma…I’m going to try even harder today so Daddy won’t have to yell at me.” This scenario was repeated regularly.

Meanwhile, “Daddy” was constantly reminding me how expensive cheer was for our two girls… and I do mean constantly. I was already losing sleep over even utilizing the standard utilities: saving electricity and gas like a monstrously concerned environmental-freak; afraid to use the pool, afraid to dry our clothes in the dryer, and conserving water like we were ship-wrecked bordering on death by dehydration… Sure, living in a big beautiful home was nice, but not really appropriate under my financial circumstances. I tried to let go of the resentment that we were living under this kind of stress in spite of the fact that the three of us had wanted to stay with the “Daddy” until I found a job and could afford to live independently with the children.

OH yeah and we didn’t live alone…there were the roaches. They made their presence known about a month after we moved in. I brought this up to the Daddy who laughed and called them the “702 bugs”; who also assured me he would talk to his “guy” to see if we could get a better monthly price for pest control than the several places I called for quotes. By the way, roaches really DO multiply faster than rabbits! Within two months of living there, they had taken over our “beautiful” home. My daughters were often too freaked out at bedtime to sleep and we had nightly episodes of them running to me fearful that roaches would crawl over them if they fell asleep. If you could have seen how badly they infested, you’d understand that this wasn’t necessarily an irrational fear of theirs. I slowly became more and more disgusted to even eat in this house, but finances surely didn’t allow us to eat out either. I never mentioned my eating fears to the children. After the third or fourth “rough” night we had with them terrified to go to sleep at night and crying hysterically over roaches EVERY where, I finally called the “’Daddy” again. Ahhhh….It was okay; he just hadn’t yet had time to phone his “guy”. He would, though.

I swear these damned bugs multiplied before our very eyes. This situation escalated at a rate that I could never have imagined in my worst creepy-crawly nightmares. They were in our toilets, our food pantry, our living room, our bathtubs, our patio, our furniture, our clothing… I cannot stress how horrible this became or how quickly it worsened. It broke my heart to feel so helpless to resolve this when it went from an occasional fear to a daily struggle and the only relief my children had was the occasional nights at their dad’s, which of course, was beautifully (and entirely) roach free. In my desperation and after numerous (the number for this is truly embarrassing) calls and texts to the ex; pleading with him to help, I began to imagine scenarios where I would phone all the pest control services and offer up sex in exchange for roach control. Putting aside any pride I might have ever had in me, I contemplated how one goes about offering that kind of thing without the possibility of getting arrested. No, I’m not kidding. These were the thoughts that began to consume my mind.

Sum this all up with the chronically terrifying financial fears of stressing literally every single solitary CENT, not finding any work, and the ugly manipulative insults and/or absolute disregard my children and I were learning was just to be a part of our new lives, now add a second random car accident. Sadly though, this one totaled my car.

This time, dude in an SUV makes a left turn on a two-way street (not at an intersection) right into the driver’s side of my car, as if my car was actually invisible! BAM! He slams directly into me, forming my car into a near 90-degree angle! The car was never to be drivable again. We were literally lucky to have survived the accident.

I had no one to call to drive us home from this accident…not a single soul within a 2,000 mile radius who might come to pick up my children and me…except the “Daddy”. After nine desperate phone calls, six frantic texts (not to mention how many the children must have sent) and over an hour of time passing sitting in a demolished car the “Daddy” finally texts, yes, TEXTS, “is everything ok?” Ummm….NO..it’s NOT… That would be why your children and your ex are blowing up your phone in the middle of the afternoon with calls and texts, you self-consumed idiot.

But yeah, he finally arrived.  I was hysterical at that point and more than a tad irritated at his nonchalance to our desperation. When I hinted at this, he was quick to remind me that I had no right; that I should just be grateful that he even came for us at all; after all, he’s a busy, important man who doesn’t have the time to be dealing with his ex’s little traumatic crises.

And right here is when the true, deep terror of our situation hit me fully. Under his designed choices  and reassurances surrounding our move here, along with my failed attempts to get a job and secure any income of my own, I WE were completely and totally under his tyrannical control and at his mercy, which I stupidly had been under before and that had not turned out pretty by any means.

So, by his grace alone, he drove us directly to a car rental place to rent a car for the duration of the insurance to take over (not my insurance, you silly goose….I had no insurance. I had had to let that lapse almost immediately after moving. The at-fault driver did have insurance thank God!). And now we add in the(up-front) cost of this rental car until the insurance company reimbursed him and the insurance on said rental car which provided me the means to drive my children around at our assumed daily frantic pace and the ability to continue looking for work… to the rest of the story, the stress, the mass discomfort, the verbal and emotional abuse we were enduring, the roaches, the crying bouts of my children over their dad’s chronic public put-downs and the fear of sleeping or eating at our own house.

The straw that broke the camel’s back though,  was when my 11 year-old mentioned that she liked Daddy’s girlfriend okay, but that since we hadn’t lived here for long yet, she really wished she could have some daddy-daughter time just once in a while. Given that this WAS the reason we moved here and this “girlfriend” was only a few weeks into the situation, I did not hesitate to reassure my daughter that it was okay to discuss her feelings and wishes about that with her father; that she had every right to request occasional “Daddy” time minus the girlfriend. I told her I was certain he would want to know that she felt that way, would very much care and would honor and respect her wishes, since they certainly were not at all unreasonable. And strangely, I really believed this. Never imagined it would even cause a hiccup.

Please bear in mind that “Daddy” told us on the way in from the airport at our arrival, how he had been crying in his office earlier that morning because he was so overwhelmed with happiness that his children would finally after all these years be close at hand, close enough to have a regular relationship with on a daily/weekly basis. He had cried so hard he needed a tissue, but didn’t have any and had even “had to” buzz his secretary to bring him some tissue. And secretary was just, “awwwwwww… it’s so beautiful how much you love your children…you must be the greatest dad ever!” I hate to demonstrate my inner cynic at this touching, Hallmark card episode, but I know this man’s theatrics and I was silently disgusted that he was clearly making such a dramatic show about our move. Anything to present himself as the hero-Dad! Anything to make the whole thing all about him…having little, to nothing, to actually do with his children or being a dad. I suppressed those past-influenced thoughts at his story and convinced myself he might have really been being genuine here…after all, he’d been a great dad for 10 years from 2,000 miles away…hadn’t he?

So I encouraged my child to discuss her feelings honestly with her dad, assuring her that he would not be angry and that I knew he would respect her feelings and make some of their limited time together just daddy-daughter time. I told her that I thought he would even feel extra special to know how much time having time with him really did mean to her.

No. Although she’s the overly criticized child, fearful of upsetting her father or disappointing him more than she already did daily by just being her own, wonderful but imperfect of course, self, she braved this conversation! And he didn’t even acknowledge that she had spoken. He ignored her completely although she knew for certain he had heard her speaking. She waited a few days and hesitantly mentioned it again, Daddy, I like (insert name of girlfriend here), but could we see you once in a while just the three of us? Maybe have an hour with you to ourselves? He responded with an adamant and vehement, I’m not breaking up with (insert name of girlfriend here) for you.

My daughter did not understand. She hadn’t asked him to “break up with his girlfriend” at all. She did understand, however, that her wishes not only would not be granted, but that her father had no interest whatsoever in her wishes.

Which, I do understand. After all what I’ve failed to mention here is that this wasn’t just any girlfriend in his long list of failed relationships, this was a rock stars’ ex-girlfriend! I mean, really, of course nurturing that relationship was to come before time with the little girl who gave up all her kindergarten friends, her happy roach-free home, her beloved school, all her other relatives, and her peaceful, happy-go-lucky mother! GOSH…there were priorities here people! Because having your dream job of big power, absolute financial security, an obnoxiously extravagant home, all of your childhood friends and relatives close at hand, you ex-wife under your total control, and (finally!) your two children too, could never be satisfying enough. You have not actually “arrived” in life until you have the ultimate ego-inflating status of dating a “rock stars’ ex-girlfriend”…and that delicate factor of this complicated equation must, without question or hesitation, then be put above all, since without that part of it, you’re still just not totally convinced that you are absolutely and unequivocally THE man.

You all understand, right?

Yeah, me too because here is where I snapped. And I mean snapped. Enough. No more attempting to reason with this man. No more making up flimsy-ass excuses for him that my children weren’t buying anyway. I merely shoved aside 10,000 roaches to sit on my formerly comfy (and sanitary)sofa, phoned up the ex and said, I think it’s best we go back home. This just doesn’t seem to be working out for anyone except you, on any acceptable level. To which he responded by screaming, I don’t care what you do! You have 30 and I repeat THIRTY days to get your ass back there or I’m renting out the Michigan house and I’m not helping you one bit to get back there either. And I’m canceling the rental car immediately so you’d better find a way to pay for a rental car on your own.

And here is what we did (had to do): we left everything we’ve ever owned, packed one small suitcase of clothing each and our cat, and used the insurance money from my totaled car to drive back to Michigan in order to save our home. Even my daughters with all their beautiful things and all our precious life-time mementos chose to give all that up to go home and live in our safe, peaceful house, in our safe peaceful small mid-western neighborhood far away from the “Daddy”.

We drove for three days, making it a fun family adventure. Laughing through our sadness and our fears, giggling as much as possible, and talking about how we still had all that really mattered in life: love, peace, respect, our beloved home, and each other. The rest was just stuff and stuff could be replaced…slowly in time, we’d get more furniture, ipods, televisions, computers, clothing, family pictures, etc, etc, etc… Good God, I have the most amazing children!!

And after three days on the road, we finally reached our destination…HOME, SWEET, SAFE, HOME… to discover another family had already moved into our house.

My next conversation with the ex went something like this (and this is obviously a mere excerpt):

Me: the roaches really were unbearable and disgusting and you didn’t care at all how horrifying and unsanitary that was for us.

Douche Bag: Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches.

Me:(genuinely confused) What?

Douche Bag( a tad louder this time): Ask me why I didn’t do anything about the roaches!

Me: (now confused AND irritated at his tone) Ummm…huh?

Douche Bag( full-fledged yelling now): ASK ME WHY I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT THE ROACHES!!

Me: Umm…okay, why didn’t you do anything about the roaches?

Douche Bag: Well, you didn’t seem to mind living with them, so why would *I* care if you did?

The *real* problem with SATC

Last night I had to deal with some pretty tough Mom-stuff.  I have the greatest daughters ever, so this isn’t a common theme in my life…thankfully!

My oldest daughter is breathtakingly beautiful, sweet, kind, and intelligent…and she’s also shy and struggling to make friends.  I know at her tender age, having friends means everything.  One would rather have friends at this point in her life than eat or sleep.  It’s absolutely vital to life itself. I get that.  Dealing with this brought me to reflect deeply on the issue of friends and friendship.

In short, the issue is I don’t have any. And if I want to get real down and dirty honest with myself the ugly truth is I never have.

Sure, at any given point in my life (prior to this point, of course), I’ve been surrounded by friends and acquaintances.  My phone book is chock full of names and numbers ranging anywhere from the “chick I met in the bathroom at a bar” and got into a meaningful conversation with all the way to a few (a very few) people I’ve known for fifteen years or more.  I’ve had BFF’s whom I spent every waking moment with.  I’ve even had a few “fatal attraction friendships” where things got ugly when it was time to walk away from that person.  I’ve had co-workers who I went to Happy Hour’s with and discussed everything from what’s for dinner to their extra-marital affair.  I’ve had “activity buddies” who loved the beach or yoga or some other mutually adored pastime.  Other than a few times in my life (now being one of them), I’ve never had a shortage of people to call to hang out with or, more frequently, people who called me daily with their troubles (I’ve always,  ALWAYS been the “counselor” type).  I never minded that, I embraced it actually and felt I was maybe special because so many people trusted me with their important, heart-felt issues and turned to me in their time of need.   Awwwwww…  I even think it encouraged me to believe I  had some close ties with certain people in my life.  After all, they would share their dirtiest, most horrible inner secrets with me…that certainly must  mean we were friends, right?

No.  It meant I’m a friend.  It meant they recognized me as a caring, trustworthy person and felt comfortable turning to me in times of need.  It did not mean- and has never meant- that we were friends.

I get back to this realization anytime I happen upon that fantastical program Sex and the City.  As much as I heart that well-written and entertaining show, I avoid it!  Can you believe it?  And I mean avoid…like I avoid the-adopt-an-Ethiopian-child commercials…you know, the one’s that hurt to watch? I can hardly tolerate watching it (and have certain moments where I literally can NOT tolerate watching it) because it’s an absolute fantasy from my perspective; a fantasy along the lines of Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella.  And here’s the thing, I’m not jealous of their cute clothes, their fun dating adventures, their gorgeous shoes, or their great careers…  I know those things are realistic and totally plausible in this world.  I enjoy that aspect immensely…to ponder the likes of living in a world where I might spend my mortgage payment on the. Most. Fabulous. Pair. Of. Shoes. EVER.    That’s not a pipe-dream; I know that actually happens.

It’s the friendship.  It’s the friendship these women share…  It’s truly akin to believing in Santa Claus for me.  I don’t typically avoid fairy tale type things.  I find them fun actually.  I love watching The Little Mermaid and letting myself get caught up for an hour or so in the far-fetched possibility of that being a reality.  The difference is that fairy tales are out of this world fantastical…they aren’t based on anything that could ever be authentically possible in this world.  And those are beautifully imaginative and refreshing thoughts to entertain for a period of time.  But the friendship:  the lasting, loyal, fun, loving, and practical friendship these women share is something that is theoretically possible.  Hell, it should exist and I imagine it does exist for some, but I have never seen it in real life, much less ever known it myself.  This is what makes this show too painful for me to watch.

As if the writer of that show (as well as the God of Universal timing) knew this excruciating fact,  I then was once cursed to see (of the very few episodes I actually watched through) the episode where Carrie contemplates relationships and soul mates.  Like a train wreck or a fantasy, I could not bring myself to look away or turn it off.  There it was in all its glory, …dumping pounds of salt in my open wounds:

And this made sense to me….but then it has always made sense to me.  Actually, if I had ever written it down as such, I could probably have claimed it was even my idea originally. I just never had that jealousy issue like other girls did.  Boys were boys, the would come and go or stay…whatever…  And I look how I look..take it or leave it…like it or hate it…  After the age of about 12, I never imagined the fairy tale prince sweeping me off my feet and rescuing me from the wicked step-mother or from some other evil force of nature.  Yeah sure, that sounded fun and romantic and all those great things, BUT…. I only dreamed of having close and authentic friends.  Real friends whom I could share life and troubles, happiness and tragedy, good fortune as well as bad…both mine and theirs.  That was what (and who) I hoped to have in my life someday when I got old and decrepit and reflected back on my life:  that would be my lifelong soul mate, not some Prince Charming or any other “prince” of whatever!  Although it was difficult to watch this show about a group of fun, fabulous and lasting friends even before I saw this specific episode, seeing this one just made it that much worse.  I love the show..I hated that show now!

 I’ve had this type of friendship on the one-way street thing, like an unrequited teenage crush…where I naively convinced myself it was real or at least was developing into a real and lasting friendship.  I merely had to “be the friend I wished to have” and surely some like-minded person would see the extraordinary friendship value in me and scoop me up to be friends forever. 

But wait….I am that friend.  Due to my early life-wisdom and perspectives on male-female relationships, I have always been that friend….and still,  I don’t have an Amanda or Samantha…a Carrie or a Miranda…much less, three or four!  Geesh, I can’t even fathom having one. To me, the concept of having even one genuine female friend is in the realm of the truly fantastical and imaginary

Oh I’ve had a few posers…  in fact, I’ve had at least three, and possibly up to as many as six over my lifetime.    Three females whom I actually felt that strong connection and imagined that it went beyond “friends”, but more like family.  Friends I would not have hesitated to donate a kidney, step in front of a speeding train, give up my job, my home, any money I might have, a man who loved me, men who liked me, whatever it took to preserve and nurture that friendship.  After all, at the end of the day and other than my children, that was the thing that would mean the most to me when all else was lost or gone. Right?  I’d have this beautiful friendship with this other person that stood the test of time and life, jobs and men, fashion changes and geographical moves…everything.  This was my “soul mate”… the only lasting thing in life one might ever have which is truly priceless, precious, and irreplaceable.

No.  Every single one of these friendships turned out to be merely a one-sided friendship of convenience; a relationship that would stay solid for as long as I could give..and give..and give…and one even turned out to be something far more sinister, but  I don’t  talk about that one at all..to anyone…ever…   I don’t even like to think about that one, as the pain from it, even though many years have passed, is still very raw and smacks me in the most tender and persistently innocent part of my soul.

..and here I am, in my late thirties, dealing with my daughter’s struggles with both finding friends in a new city and leaving a slew of BFF’s behind.  I worry about her as a mother will, but I mostly keep my jaded mouth shut and simply listen and try to offer hopeful insights that I had regarding friendship when I was her age.  

…when I realize last night that from elementary years through college the issue always was “jealousy”.  Females really are challenged with the sad and destructive jealousy gene.  So, in those early years, they’re jealous –  of your hair, your clothes, maybe your intelligence or how much money your parents have.  In your later 20’s and 30’s, it turns into more of a man-jealousy thing, like friendships have a competitive edge for all the women in the world who grew up waiting for their Price Charming…and this earlier jealousy thing gets an additional razor’s edge…the fear that any other female might intentionally or otherwise, steal her chance with her Prince  …so then that obstacle is added to the rest of the jealousy box from the earlier years.  And authentic female relationships become even more difficult or impossible. 

Suddenly you’re in your late 30’s and  you think, Hey, cool…maybe it kinda sucks getting older, BUT  now we’re all  wiser; past all the competitive man-stuff, the awkward insecurities, the jealousy issues, and the life fears which  have plagued and prevented friendship up until now… 

 

Except, we are not. The divorce rate and the common theme of infidelity in relationships make some of these things still huge issues for many women even at the time in life when it “shouldn’t” be a thought anymore.  These elements keep the jealousy-thing in place even at this “wise” time when we’re otherwise mostly secure (or at least comfortable) with ourselves and our lives.  Then, you realize that friendships take years to nurture and grow into an authentic depth of affection.  So now, we have ALL the issues from elementary years on through, further complicated by the fact that if you haven’t already been fortunate enough to have at least one friendship which survived all those earlier obstacles and stood strong, you’re now hit with the challenge that women (and people in general) tend to be more jaded and cynical about life and people and far less trusting overall.  Thus, at this age, they’re often now far less likely to even extend that arm of friendship out to another female at all.  I mean we’re not really clubbing anymore and looking for girls to dance with us or going to football games on Friday night and wanting someone fun to sit with at the game.  We’re okay to go shopping by ourselves, go to the gym on our own, maybe even go to the movies or out for a drink by ourselves (GASP!…something we never would have done in our 20’s).

I remember my mother once telling me, “Kay, if you find even one real and solid friendship in your lifetime, you should consider yourself lucky”.   So, as I go through this hardship and heartache with my oldest daughter, I find myself faced with all of these thoughts and realizations as I’m desperately seeking words of consolation and hope to give her.  I certainly can’t borrow these words of wisdom from my mother to hand down to her, in spite of the fact that I fully realize how right-on she was; because I’m still facing the hard fact that I wasn’t one of the “lucky ones”.

Me watching SATC!

…and I’m sure you can find the irony in the situation when after I tucked my tearful and heartbroken daughter in bed last night,  after hours of heart-to heart discussion, I came in my room to see those damned SATC ladies on my television!  Those damned wenches…they really do have everything!

Ugh!

UN-freakin-believable!!!

This has several levels of unbelievable irony and coincidence and so I simply must write of it…

I have a guy “friend” whom is fondly referred to in my house as Hottie McHotstuff.  He’s a very sexually appealing 24 year old guy (boy?), with whom I had a night (umm…or two…?) of wild abandon this past winter.  He’s way too young for me and our connection was truly a matter of several simultaneously serendipitous events.  This is not a common theme or occurrence for me…  so this guy, this experience,  in itself is special in its own right.

how I feel around McH...

McHotstuff is friends with a girlfriend of mine.  We all were out dancing and drinking together one memorable evening awhile back.  I’m not going to pretend I hadn’t noticed him at all.  In fact, I couldn’t help but to notice him and in the beginning of the evening prior to drinking like fish and group-dancing like sexually charged beasts, we had a delightful conversation.  I enjoyed this, but immediately classified it off as just a nice conversation with an intelligent, sweet, and too-young guy.

So imagine my surprise a few hours later when our mutual friend pulls me aside and says, “J is sooooo in to you girl.”  What?  Are you kiddin’ me?  That hot young boy?  …Is way into late 30-ish, chronically-broken-hearted-ME?  Whoaa…   I laughed this off, took it as quite a compliment, and continued on as it was…having a great time with a fun group of friends.  She takes me aside again and says, Kay, I know sexual flings aren’t your thing, but I’m telling you, you really should try it with J.  I’ve never had sex with him, but another friend of mine did awhile back and she raved for months about how unbelievably effin’ fantastic he is.

Yeah, not usually my thing, but I’ll tell you, I’ve been suffering (literally) from a broken heart for years(yes, years) and with this blatant encouragement combined with my ongoing level of pain and suffering for so long, I opted to act on this. I won’t get into the crude details here, but suffice to say…ummm..yup….OMFG…was worth every bit of it!  And I’ve no regrets, then or now…  In fact, McH and I got together again on a less drunken evening merely because I wanted to experience this guy with a totally clear head!  This was very liberating to me sexually and emotionally…..I’m indebted to McH for reasons he’ll never even know!

McH and I did not become BFF’s or anything, but over the past 8 months or so, we have developed a great friendship…one that I really believe is a rare friendship with extreme sexual attraction thing.  Something I did not believe could exist prior to this.  I have genuinely fond and caring feelings for the guy, as well as a crazy sexual desire for him.  And he feels the same.  It’s truly a lovely phenomenon!

Coincidence:  After living his entire life in this small-Michigan town we lived in and me having lived there for 13 years, 3 days before I moved to Nevada, McH moved out west as well.  So he just happens to be my geographically closest “friend” from back home, although he is still 10-12 hours’ drive from me.   We text and talk fairly regularly.  He’s planning to visit Vegas at some point fairly soon.  Needless to say, I’m very much looking forward to that;-P

Here is the irony:  We have been having a text conversation over the past few days regarding my ex (a dear friend ever since our divorce 13 years ago) being a real jerk since the moment I arrived here. Excerpt as follows:

Me:  I soooo wish you were here right now! (this I texted to him the night after the near violation of my no-no square…yeah, I was super-duper scared and lonely)

Me (the next day…kind of embarrassed at how that late-night text probably came across): Sucks sometimes not really knowing any1 here…wish u were a lil closer at least…hope ur doing great tho…xoxo

McH: I wish I was too..ya’ll should’ve came to Denver it’s truly amazing

Me: I’m so glad u like it! Vegas is pretty great too..just wish I knew some1 here tho…but I’m meeting ppl just takes time I suppose…

Mc H:Doesn’t ur husband live out there or x husband?

Me: Yup he lives here..n we’ve been best friends since the divorce but now that he has the kids n me out here hes bein a major ass 2me…I shoulda known better!

McH(texted this morning):  Dude that sucks I wish I could help

Me:  No worries I’m dealing w/it..it’s just kinda sad n makes me xtra miss havin my friends around 2have fun w/…ur such a gem J… thank u tho:-):-)

McH: Well, you’re one of the greatest ppl I know.  I’m not gonna lie

Me(touched beyond reason here):   J..ur so lucky ur so far or id jump u right now just 4sayin that 2meJ  other than my ex n some pervs leering @me like they wanna eat me alive its been awhile since any1 said anything kind 2me…I just adore u..im so lucky ur my friend n ur only 10 hours away!!  :-)xoxo:-)

McH: yeah, I’m gonna come 2 Vegas once I get the cash. And u also r a great friend 2have.

AND *RIGHT HERE* IS WHEN THE UNBELIEVABLE HAPPENS:

McH: Do you have a camera phone?

OMFG!!!!    I have been intimate with McH, so this does not bother me at ALL in that way.  He’s not at all out of line and I’d share any picture I might ever have of myself with this gem of a guy…  But with consideration of my past few weeks ranting about “more cell pics” and my impending date tonight with “more-cell-pics-M”…. 

ARE YOU KIDDIN’ ME?? What the hell?  What are the odds of this crazy-ass timed request?  Is this a seemingly random and unexpected thing being thrown at me to put a brand new perspective on my current dilemma/debate regarding my upcoming date with M????

I guess this is irrefutable proof that *any* guy in the world does, in fact, just want more cell phone pics…maybe I’m being a little harsh on M?