So, I wanted to blog about my trip.
The romantic dinners. The holding hands as we walked through the cobblestone streets of Savannah. The kissing under the Candler Oak trees. The intense conversations. Just the two of us. Our first time away…alone. Can you see it now? sigh.
All the hot sex. Ya. All the crazy, insane sex! ha. I had more sex in one weekend, than I had in the past 4 years combined. And it was amazing. And real. And right. And good. And blah, blah….blah. Don’t be haters. Let me just say, I love this man. He is good for me. You need to have chemistry in a relationship, people. You do. And if my dad is reading this, I am sorry, Daddy. And if Scott’s family is reading this, omg. I am mortified. Hopefully, when I meet them one day…we can all, well…laugh? Yeesh.
But no. I am not going to go into my trip in detail. Because I can’t. And you wanna know why?
Because it was basically ruined by my ex. Yup. It was. And I don’t care if this upsets people. I am saying it. I am bringing Mark back from the dead…just for this blog. RISE UP MO FO, YOU ARE COMING BACK! And I am not apologizing for it. When the boy texts me 30 plus times while I’m away, he is deserving of a resurrection, don’tcha think? I was actually expecting a knock at the door of my hotel room, and him to jump out. Shit. I wanted to die. I felt sick. I kept apologizing. And making excuses. I was like, “I’m so sorry, he just forgot where we keep the ketchup.”. Jesus. In Mark’s defense, Zac was sick. He was in need of a trip to Urgent Care. His 99.4 fever, and sore throat caused quite the ruckus. Maybe he didn’t remember I was on vacation? Maybe he just needed to tell me how annoyed he was that I didn’t go grocery shopping at that exact moment? Maybe he just had to ask me why I didn’t do the laundry last week, while I was in the middle of dinner with Scott? Fuck. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to respond to him all flipping weekend? OMG MAYBE I COULD HAVE TOLD HIM TO SHUT HIS FUCKING PIE HOLE? Crap.
And Scott was such a trooper. He’s been there, right? He gets it. And he understands. Thank G-d. Because really, if he didn’t…I am pretty dang sure he would have made a sharp right when I made that left. I mean, who wants to deal with all this shit? The constant texting. The venting. The complaining. And bitching. And apologizing. And explaining “my side” of the story. And the what and what-not’s of my situation. And Scott is patient. Way more patient than I would ever be. I would’ve grabbed my phone, and chucked it off the horse-drawn carriage into a pile of shit if I were him. I ruined our trip. I let my ex get the best of me, and I almost screwed up really good thing. I mean, what is Scott supposed to do? Listen, sure. Comment, ok. Defend Mark, or bad-mouth him? Ugh. Poor Pita-Boy. It’s a no win situation.
Action begets reaction. I could have just not reacted to it all. But puhlease. Who are we kidding?
Tell me this? When does it stop? It. Ya know. When does the bullshit stop? When do I stop reacting to him, and picking up the guilt? And feeling badly? Or responding to his texts, with nasty comebacks? When will I finally realize that I am no longer his wife, and he is no longer my problem? Can anyone please fill me in? Because I swear I just don’t have a clue. And I get it. The same goes for Mark. I text him, about the snakes. And the dog. And all things “husband” related. But when we decided to do this “nesting” thing 7 months ago, wasn’t that kinda part of the deal? I mean, if there is a SNAKE in the “nest” who do I call? Hmmm. I guess I call the pest people. Or Scott. I guess it’s not his job. Maybe this whole “amicable” things is for the birds. This “nesting” thing is just stupid. And can’t really happen.
I am sad today. Mark is angry. I don’t know what to do, or what will make us happy. But really, is this about us? I might have checked out of my marriage a long time ago, and Mark, too. But the boys didn’t. They never checked out of anything. They woke up one day and their parents were separating. They didn’t have any say in any of this, and I need to check MYSELF. And remember this isn’t about ME. This is about them. And unfortunately, there is no longer an “us”. That is what divorce is all about. Mark wants to sell the house. He wants his life back. Sure. I get it, having my life back would be great. Going back and forth between two places sucks. But come on, it’s been 7 months for the boys. Right? Only 7 months. There has to be a happy medium…and I won’t give up until I find it. The boys are happy. They love the situation right now. It’s working for them.
Anyways, I guess I’m sorry for being happy. I told Scott last night, I’m only happy when I’m with my boys…or with him. Life is funny that way, I guess. I finally have found someone that truly makes me feel good, and I like the person I am when we are together. Is that a bad thing? I hope my kids can see that soon, and appreciate what I’ve done for them. Nesting is nothing, I would give them the moon, if it meant making them happy. One day, they will understand.
For now, I will learn to stop reacting. And overreacting. And just start living in the present. Now, where is Linda Blair when I need her? Time for a little exorcism. Bring in the Shaman. Call the witch doctors! Be gone, EX’s! BE GONE! Well, only if you can’t be nice. Poof. ;)