Silence

And then there was silence.

I can’t explain the who’s, what’s, where’s, when’s (and most importantly the why’s.  I couldn’t stay away from him.  Sure, I could pretend I did the noble thing and stood my ground, but I didn’t, and I’m not one for pretending.  The selfish urge within me took over, and within a week of not speaking we were back to texting every day.  I honestly can’t even recall HOW it happened (I suppose I could go back in my text-archives…but that just sounds like far too much work).  Long story short; he came, and I compromised me through selfishly allowing myself to sleep with him.  I am still undecided if (or HOW MUCH) I am disappointed in the fact that I didn’t allow myself to walk away and leave things as they were, or if I’m angry at him for pursuing me until he got what he wanted. 

The result of our one sultry night was this; $50.00 spent on “plan b” and our friendship is no more (and neither is our scandalous relationship).  

Truth; a large part of me is relieved.  He had more baggage than I think I could have physically or mentally handled.  He disclosed to me he had been having suicidal thoughts the past couple of months, and whether he said that to foster sympathy or if it was actually the truth is still up in the air….but another reason why I’m flooded with relief that I don’t have to deal with that anymore. 

Second truth:  I’m still a bit bummed even though the cons of our relationship/friendship/situation was stressful, wrong, and more emotional baggage than I could physically handle, I’m bummed I compromised me in the process of trying to open myself up again.  Does this mean I’m not ready or capable of finding and beginning a healthy relationship because I couldn’t stand my ground with him, or does this mean he just wasn’t the right one?  I’m uncertain of the answer.

I don’t want to give up, but I feel like it would be the easiest thing to do in terms of finding love beyond what I have with my small family of two.  

The last time we saw each other he left his watch at my place; he’s now texting me to get it back.  The good side of me wants to give it to my neighbor (who works with him), and be done….but there’s another part within me that wants to flip him the bird and tell him to piss off.  The third little bit inside of me wants me to get it fixed (because did I mention his watch is BROKEN), just to spite him and show him that I’m a good person who does the right thing, and that he can’t have me….(which, let’s be real…sounds even crazier than this man actually is).  

Eff.

I don’t know what to do, what the right answer is, or what tomorrow is going to look like.  Trying to surrender control is so damn hard.  I’m still trying to decipher what I’ve learned from this entire situation, and at the same time regret the entire situation even happened.

Seriously Life....Settle down already!!

I'm am crabby today. Downright pissy, actually...and instead of unloading on a friend and burdening them with my petty bullshit, I'm unloading it here...because, why the hell not?

My LOVELY mother (insert copious amounts of sarcasm here) and I have not been on speaking terms for over a week because she had the audacity to insinuate that I was a bad mother because I had asked for help watching my son to go to an all-attend work meeting which announced the layoff of seven employees from my office. Thankfully, I was not a victim of this layoff, however, my office is very small and very close, so a good friend of mine was. In lieu of going STRAIGHT to pick up my son when the meeting was over, I drove to my coworkers house...she had left the office BEFORE I had arrived for the meeting, and was sitting at home alone, wallowing in the news that she would no longer be employed.....so, I did what any friend would do...I went and made sure she wasn't alone, listened to her vent, and was there.

Ya know, it would be one thing if I unloaded my son on my mother and her husband ALL OF THE TIME, but the fact is, I don't, especially because bullshit like this happens. She (for whatever reason) becomes a jealous bitch, and I won't tolerate her snarky attitude. I am open and up front with her, and tell her I don't understand or appreciate her attitude and that I refuse to fight with her...but after I hear that she's spread her ugly opinion to my father (the man whom she cheated on and divorced 11 years ago) I consider the line crossed.

I'm done with her...which makes me equally happy and sad. Does anyone want to adopt a 28 year old single mother and her 5 year old son?

Speaking of five-year-olds...holy shit has he been pushing my buttons lately. Where do I even begin? Oh, I know! How about finding my work clothes smeared with his shit?! Yeah, you read that right. He literally decided to wipe his ass with MY CLOTHES!!!! I swear to god.

His response: "It will come out in the laundry, mom."

...You'd also think Kindergarten would be a BREEZE OF A YEAR for the parent of a school kid. WRONG. Kindergarten has been hell thus far. From a call from my son's teacher explaining that he was put in a Kindergarten version of detention called the "sit and think room" from bashing a kid in the face with his lunch box, to hearing daily that his name has been put on the board because he isn't listening...oh, and HERE's a good one...he had an older kid do his damn homework for him!! Yup...my son is "that kid."

Trying to be a "fun mom" we bought three pumpkins over the weekend as part of my son's reward for not getting his name on the board on Friday. Last night, as part of a reward for my son behaving at a wake we had to attend, we got to carve the pumpkins. OF COURSE the safe pumpkin knife broke after the first pumpkin...and OF COURSE it was 9pm so we couldn't run out to get another knife. Do I wait until today to carve the rest of my pumpkins? Nope. That would be TOO easy. Instead, I try to use my six inch serrated knife....I know you know where this is going.

Yup. I put that damn knife into the tip of my thumb. I let out over a dozen expletives, attempted to control the massive bleeding amongst the throbbing pain to see just how far the knife went into my thumb (about 3/4 of a centimeter, enough to warrant a lot of blood, not enough for me to justify an embarrassing trip to the ER). Typically, I could give two hoots if I was single or in a relationship...unless something tramatic like lodging a six inch serrated knife into the tip of your thumb happens....moments like those I hate the fact that I'm single and alone.

Not only was I fighting tears of physical pain, but those are the moments in my life when the tears of my loneliness creep in...and MASSIVE amounts of ugly-crying inevitably happen.

I responded as level headed as possible after that, shaking as I tried to unwrap fingertip band aids with my teeth, and downing 1000 mg of ibuprofen, then calling it a night.

Today hasn't been much better, although, as I got into my car at lunch time some sappy song was playing on the radio about keeping your head up and blah blah blah. I looked at my car radio, and said "Dude, I'm trying, alright?! Lay off."

Nuckin Futs.

For 18 years of my life, my family felt "normal" albeit EXTREMELY dysfunctional. I get that their divorce was virtually imminent. I get that their relationship was extremely unhealthy for all parties involved. But it was my family, and when the divorce became unavoidable ten years ago, my world fell apart.

My parents have been divorced for 10 years.

My mom had started a new relationship with a man she had worked with. A relationship while she was still married. A relationship that was uncovered by my then 15 year old brother, in our house, which included him walking in on the two of them making out (responsible and SUPER mature of them, right?! I digress).

Ten years ago, after the dysfunctional family I knew and loved fell apart, the relationship with my mom crumbled before my eyes.

She's been with Him the entire time. I've hated almost every minute of it...becoming less vocal about my dislike of him as time has passed....because, really, my dislike of him hasn't and won't change my mothers mind, or open her eyes.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from my mom. "What are you doing on 10/10....next Sunday?" she asked. I didn't have plans, so I told her I was free...

"We're getting married...and I want you to be my maid of honor."

"Okay" was all I could say. I said okay after she told me it was going to be a small ceremony. I said okay after she told me no dresses were allowed, only denim jeans. I said okay when she told me not to tell anyone else in the family...that she wanted this to be kept secret. I kept saying okay.

The moment I hung up the phone, I broke down into a serious ugly-cry. Baby boy asked me what was wrong, and I couldn't tell him....he's too little to really truly understand how much this hurts. He's too little, nor would I ever want him to feel what I'm feeling. I asked for a hug, and dried my face.

In a nut shell....this sucks.

Eww.

I've been bad. Why, you ask? Tonight I attended the annual "girls holiday party." The second I got home (yes I drove, yes I drank, no I wasn't drunk...and to prove it I only had three drinks and one shot over the course of 6 hours...) I lit up a cig.

I think lighting up when I drink (as of the last three weeks, so honestly...it has only been a few times) is my juvenile attempt to understand what all of the smoking hype is about.

What have I discovered?

• It leaves a disgusting taste in my mouth
• It makes me feel extremely effed up and dizzy
• I still haven't been able to fathom WHY PEOPLE SMOKE! (sorry, I'm not trying to offend the smokers of the world...but after trying it I still can't grasp the reasoning)
• It gives me a headache
  

ps. I am NOT a jogger or a runner....those people are effin nuts!