There is that pivotal point in one’s relationship (or pseudo-relationship, because why would either of us have that conversation) where there is an event that neither should discuss, identify with, or bring to the forefront of reality. This event mainly includes bachelor or bachelorette party or any binge drinking episode where tits and ass will be a common theme throughout the weekend. The person in the relationship (just, whatever…let’s generalize!) who is not participating in said events is left empty, inquisitive, and mainly suicidal mixed with some homicidal ideations. This can be proven as a fact by observing the amount of chocolate one consumes on the day said partner is scheduled to leave the state only to fly to another state thousands of miles away. Let’s google: 1,360 miles from Long Island to good ol’NOLA.
[written while shoving pieces of chocolate covered fruit in mouth] [alternating with sourdough pretzels….] [#fatass]
Anyway….after praying to the weather gods to cause mass havoc at the airport resulting in his flight being grounded…I felt calm. Knowing that Mr. Grey was on his way back to my house due to massive snow fall, was….overwhelming to say the least. Conflicted, as usual, I remember wanting to grab his face and kiss him all over (something we honestly NEVER do….) and call up Delta and request a charter to get his ass to Louisiana. Even with the snow falling one inch per hour, this fuck was still able to barter with Delta to not only get a flight out at 6AM the following morning, but have them switch his flight home to 9:30PM from 2:00PM. Sweet seven hour time difference. Not that I am complaining as I am still able to pick him up, but I am complaining. I mean, a 9:30PM flight, will have him at his house by 10:30PM….which means we. will. not. see. each. other…other than in that awkward moment when I refuse to let him drive my car, with my child in it, to his house from the airport because he will more than likely wreak of alcohol, drugs, and sex with other women.
Did I mention that I suggest he take my box of condoms (sorry…safe sex is important!) with him to New Orleans? Did I mention that he “forgot” to take it, even though he opened the drawer where they were Thursday morning before he left my house to go to work to then go to the airport to get on a plane to travel to Debauchery City? Ha, actually, when he left my house that morning he came back in to say goodbye, put his hand on the small of my back as I was “sleeping” on my right side, and said “I am going to go to debauchery now…” and then I stretched out my arms for a hug…which he earnestly accepted. This is getting weird.
Staying focused on the mission at hand….passing the time until I get to leave to get him at the airport. Blog. So, initially, my thought process on this whole blog site was to sign up for cupid.com. Meet some rando perverts, and write stories about them in this cynical tone, mimicking Sex and the City, but with an internet dating, single parent, lonely and broke, spin on it. I figured I would be a combination of all four characters as I am always a bitch, extremely confrontational, prude, and emotionally unavailable but in love with love. That encompasses all four characters right? I have significant experience with a Mr. Big…in fact, call all of my boyfriends and past lovers Mr. Somethings.
Instead, I walked in to a bar, watched a man who looked exactly like his profile pictures stand up, wait until I walked in and sat down, sat back down, and smiled. That was it. That was all it took. I have nothing more to report or share or dissect until there is nothing left.
With that said, the last several months have been nothing but confusing, awkward, and emotionally misleading for me. I am the type of person who falls in love with the idea of love that it doesn’t really matter if I fail and burn in the end because it wasn’t real to begin with. Yesterday, while at my parents house I thought, well, if this goes south, then I am literally refusing to date. Forever. There would be no point. Nothing would compare to the last three months. And it isn’t like there is this honeymoon period I am delusional about. I am aware that people always present well for the first 6-9 months, and then that is when the personalities flare. However, since Mr. Grey is in a similar situation it leaves little to this delusional imagination that things are okay in life. We are both going through a divorce with ex-spouses who are dramatic to say the least. We are both on our way to custody battles, child support agreements (or dis-agreements), either on the verge of or already living back home with our parents! We are both dealing with life on life’s terms, not on ours. We despise our jobs, hate our professions, loathe the way our lives turned out. But in this shear and understandable misery, we have sort of been making the best of everything. We don’t fight because we are supportive of each other in a way that has been lacking in all my other relationships. Pleasing someone and supporting them are two different things. I would send him a text message at night lamenting about how much I hate my boss and how unfairly I am being treated at work and in the morning I would be a text saying “call me.” And I would and on the other end there would be this problem solving knight in basketball shorts and a fitted sweatshirt coaching me with why I need to drop my balls and stand up for myself. None of it would be sympathetic to my feelings. There would be no sugar coating of any kind. There would be cold hard facts, honest truth, and bold words. Exactly what I needed to hear….not someone sparing my feelings or afraid to upset me. And with that, it would work. I would muster up courage and put on my big girl panties (or gigantic bra, ugh) and walk my sweet ass in to work only to demand respect and fair treatment. So far, I am still employed.
I don’t really get anxious anymore. I don’t really fear sleeping with the lights off (research PTSD). I don’t have all these insecurities about my body. I don’t hate myself. I don’t feel like I deserve nothing anymore, rather that I deserve everything. I deserve to be in this great space in my life despite everything else falling apart around me. I deserve to acknowledge how strong I am. I need to stop apologizing to everyone for being a big ol’ bitch because it is what has kept me going thus far. I don’t need to stop apologizing to people for being smart or being who I am, which is imperfect. I need to start owning it. And this person, this total stranger I met off the internet, Mr. Grey in the flesh, has unleashed a goddamn beast.
So you know what New Orleans? You know what slurs, you know what little side pieces from the weekend…back the fuck up. You can all shove it.
On second thought…. T- 10 hours until I get to pick him up from the air port <3….
[3/8/2015]