Suburban Goddess

“If I was him, and I read your blog, I’d run as fast as I could from you.”

Well, it’s a good thing he’s a bigger man than you, isn’t it? Jackass.

I’m not saying my ex is shallow, but I got some information this weekend that continued to explain why the marriage deteriorated so rapidly…

Of course, the first, and most obvious thing was the boobs. He was always a boob man, and let’s face it, unless I pull out the credit card, I can’t compare to this woman in that department.

But the other thing became glaring obvious, too. She recently bought a 2007 Jeep Rubicon Unlimited, the very truck that Chip had his eyes on next….

IT ALL MAKES SO MUCH SENSE.

I truly, truly feel sorry for this woman.

“Do you miss me?”

“Do you think I don’t?”

“Do you?”

“Ugh. What a dumb question.”

“You didn’t answer it.”

“Because I’m playing HARD TO GET.”

Well, last night was uneventful. Thankfully. The Step-Kid was awesome, and he was really happy I came, which made all the strife worth it.

When I got there, K had a seat saved for me with a direct view of the ex & the girlfriend. (The play was “A Midsummer Nights’ Dream,” in the round.) So I was immediately faced with the reality that the person I spent the last seven years of my life with has moved on. He sat there, leaned into her, with his hand high on her thigh. It was EXACTLY the way he used to sit with me. He would lean in and whisper to her occasionally, and I could almost hear his voice in my ear.

It was like I stepped out of my body, and I was watching him with ME exactly seven years ago. Seriously, it was the closest thing I’ve ever had to an out-of-body experience in my life. It was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever experienced. This must be what it feels like to look down from heaven and see your widow with the next person after you…. because there was absolutely NO jealousy…

I know many people are staring skeptically at the screen right now going, “yeah, right….” But I’m telling the truth. At first, there was an initial shock of pain, seeing how easily I was replaced. Then a brief moment of jealousy, thinking, “that’s MY place she’s sitting in…” But then came the reason…

Did I REALLY want to be sitting there where she was? With this man’s hand on MY thigh? And the memories came rushing back… his smell, his breath, his lack of attention, his scratchy face…. and then I thought about my Angel, and the touch of his hand, and the clean smell of his skin, and the way his beautiful blue eyes stay riveted on me as I’m talking… and I suddenly felt free. I’m not caught in an emotionless existence anymore.

I had a pang of sympathy for that woman sitting there. Maybe she’ll have what it takes to draw it out of that man, but already, I’ve seen his actions have not changed. He will not change. I hope she is happy with what she has, because that is all she will ever get.

I had too many needs that he simply could not fill. And suddenly I realized how frustrating it must have been for him, too, to be married to someone who expected so much of him. Being married to a woman who constantly reminded him that he WASN’T Superman, and he COULDN’T make her happy, no matter how hard he tried.

He just didn’t know the right way to do it. Or, more accurately (because there is no “right way”), he didn’t understand the way I wanted it done. And he isn’t capable of ever understanding that, because it’s just not part of who he was. I wish we could have realized that before we tried to commit our lives to each other. But then, there wouldn’t be an Alex. And what a boring world it would be without Alex…

After the play, I went over for the “big meeting.” The Girl held her hand out with a smile. I took her hand, and pulled her to me, giving her a big hug. I know it surprised her. I think it surprised Chip even more. But not as much as it surprised me… I don’t know where it came from, but something inside of me wanted to thank this woman for setting me free…

If it wasn’t for her, I WOULD have been the one sitting there.

“Okay, I need you to just shut up and listen to me for a minute…

I’ve lived so much of my life in fear and I always hold back and that’s the reason I have two failed marriages… because I’m never COMPLETELY honest with anyone, including myself… I’m tired of being afraid all the time, and I’m tired of holding back, so I’m trying this new thing where I just put stuff out there… and I really wanted to tell you this is person, not over the phone…. but I’m afraid to tell you because it might change things or complicate things, and I really don’t want it to ruin what we’ve got…. but damn it, I’m just going to say it because I’ve been struggling with it for a very long time, and I need you to know…

I love you, and I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

(Silence.)

“You can talk now.”

“Angel, I never stopped loving you.”

Finally, taking the high road has paid off.

I didn’t want to look like I was ambushing the idiot tonight, so I took a huge leap of faith.

I emailed the girlfriend.

I knew, in my heart, if I could just talk to her, woman-to-woman, that everything would be okay. I laid everything out there. I was honest and open. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. I waited for hours for a response, and finally, it came.

It was like we could both suddenly breathe. She wasn’t the evil, home-wrecking slut she’d been portrayed as. She seemed honest and open, too. She told me how certain things had gotten twisted, and out of control. How information had been manipulated and blown out of proportion.

She understood that the circumstances of their relationship looked really, really bad. And she admitted that. And that is all I wanted to hear.

Now I can forgive. Now I have closure. Now I can move on and know that this woman has a conscience, and she, too, is a mother. She understands my fear, acknowledged it, and respected it. We have opened the door for communication, which is all I ever wanted. I feel like a monstrous weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The ex might be furious with me for going over his head, but I don’t care.

It was never about him.

Tomorrow night, my soon to be ex-stepson is in a play. I’ve known about it for quite some time, and I really wanted to go. Today, my friend K called and asked if I wanted to go (her son is also in the play, and a lot of the neighbors are going for support.) I told her yes.

Last I heard, Chip and his girl had split up last weekend. So I figured she wouldn’t be there this week. I love my stepson, and I miss him a lot… so I really, really want to go support him.

I ran some errands, and when I got home, there was a message from Chip. When I returned the call, he was pissed. He felt I was “disrespecting him” by not calling to ask his feelings on the matter before committing to going. It was then that I found out he was bringing his girl (on again).

So here’s the deal. I don’t really care. In fact, I just kinda want to get it over with, so I don’t have to worry when the “big meeting” will occur. The fact of the matter is, the StepKid should be the focus tomorrow night. It’s HIS night. Not mine, not Chip’s, not the girlfriend. And considering he doesn’t have that many friends here in Texas, I want to support him. I remember how cool it was to be on stage, and know that there were people in the audience there to just see ME.

If Chip has a problem with me being there, it’s HIS problem, not mine. If his girl has a problem with me being there, it’s HER problem, not mine. I’m sick of being expected to crawl under a rock and hide just because someone has insecurities. I don’t WANT him back. She did me a FAVOR. Hell, I want to shake her hand, say thank you, and wish her luck, because she’s gonna need it…

But being told that I was being “disrespectful” was the last straw. I have spent six years considering this man’s feelings. I have tiptoed on glass… I have held my breath… I have bitten my tongue…

I am going to support a little boy who means a great deal to me. He is my daughter’s brother. He may not be my biological child, but I love him, and I miss him. And if he, as the child’s father, cannot appreciate that love, and thank me for supporting a child that I DO NOT HAVE TO, then that is NO LONGER MY PROBLEM. If he cannot put aside his selfishness for one evening for the sake of his child, then he needs to re-evaluate his role as a father.

He says if the tables were turned, he would not do it. But if the tables were turned, I’d never ask that of him… I would think about what’s important to that kid on the stage, and that would be my focus.

But then, that’s just me. I guess my priorities are different.

I look at this and I’m amazed I don’t see it… in my eyes, she’s still my baby… when did she grow so much hair? When did she get so big? And how did she get so smart?

I got the most disturbing email today. It was from the aunt of a guy I used to work with. She googled him, and the only post that came up was on my blog.

He died last September. He was only 29.

Brandon was an amazing person; I considered him a guardian angel in my life. In our very short time together, he touched me more than some people have the entire time I’ve known them. He was one of those tortured artists that I always seem drawn to, the romantic long-haired type. He made me feel special when no one else would. He made me realize my true power as a woman.

I remember being wrapped in his arms, sitting on the floor just looking at one another, the only light from the LED lights of a nearby stereo. He seemed so tortured. So lonely. We talked for hours that night, about everything. I told him my darkest secrets, knowing that soon I’d walk out of his life to never see him again. He did the same. There was so much comfort in that, in sharing yourself completely with someone knowing that there would be no repercussions later…

I remember him looking at me with those blue eyes (I’m a sucker for blue eyes…) and saying,
“It’s a good thing you’ve moving or I’d have to kill you…” And with a smile he kissed me…

The next day, I moved. I never talked to him again. I tried reaching out on the Internet, but he wasn’t the Internet type. And so, the post remained… to be found today by his aunt.

It was so strange. I wrote her back immediately. Memories came flooding back, and I’m just filled with this profound sadness that the world will never appreciate the caliber of human that it lost. The beauty. The talent.

Somehow, SOMEHOW, I just knew… when I looked into his eyes then…. I just KNEW….. I knew he wouldn’t make it. It has always been in the back of my mind… but I prayed he would find a way through it.

So now Brandon has gone home. The man with the devil in his pants has got to be in Heaven somewhere… I will never forget him, or the fact that he saved my life.