Independence Day

Happy 4th of July, y'all. I hope you had fun, spent time with your loved ones, enjoyed the fireworks and the heat of summer.

It's seems like the only time I write here anymore is when I need to say something about Thomas. I know no one really wants to hear it anymore, but it's still very real to me. It's kind of like, when you see a tragedy happen? And at first there's a crowd, right? But then, after the ambulance came and the police questioned everybody? People drift away from the scene. They don't know what to say to the victims anymore. What else is there to say? You can only express your sorrow so many times, you know? But the victims are still there, living with it every day.

I need some place to get it out, and you're it. Thanks for listening.

I've decided I really fucking hate the holidays. Any and all of them. I dread Christmas the most. I know it will be worse than today, a million times worse. How the hell am I going to live through it? But tonight I'm not going to worry about that. Maybe by then I'll be "over it" and it'll all be fine.

Today was hard (how many times have I written that, anyway?). Thomas got here to pick up Maritessa and Tripp up at about 1:30, and left with them at around 2:00. I was supposed to be going to a party with my mom and dad, but had begged out because I didn't get any sleep last night. But I didn't let Thomas know that, or that my "grown-up plans" were just a party with my parents. After he left with them, I ran out to Burger King, and when I went past the house he shares with another guy, some mutual friends were out there and they waved me to stop. The girl, Mara was talking to me. I don't really like her, and I know she's a liar. I've known that for a long time. But she was saying some stuff. It's not important what she said, but it was hurtful. After crying for a couple of hours after that, I found out positively that none of it was true, but still.

I laid on my couch crying and felt so alone. Even my old stand-by, Twitter, wasn't any help because no one was on. I couldn't call any friends to talk about it because my cell screen broke the other day and I can't see anything at all on it. Besides, I didn't want to ruin their holiday. A friend did wind up calling and she came by, but she never knows when to leave. She was here about four hours, and we talked about Thomas a little bit, but I could tell she didn't want to hear it. Finally she left and I took a shower, did my make-up really really well (because he had to think I went out) (And because I really want to look pretty when he's coming) and waited for him to bring the kids home.

He called me at about 9:30 or so, saying that he was bringing the kids home and that he had been injured. I was careful not to express too much concern for him. Who the hell knows if that's the right thing, I just think he needs to miss me. I don't want him to think I still care. But when I was sure he had left Verna and Jun's house (our best friends, respectively) I called Verna and asked if he was okay and what had happened. She told me he had cut his foot really bad, but not to worry.

When he got here he showed his foot to me, and it really is a bad cut. About three inches long, and he said you could see into it. There was blood everywhere. He wasn't going to go to the hospital, but I think I may have convinced him to. It hurt to see him hurt. To have to restrain myself from the need to take care of him. He stayed for a long time. It felt like a long time, anyway. He kept telling me how much fun they all had today, kept kissing the kids and telling him he loves them. I'm glad he's doing right with them, don't want it any other way, but god. It hurts me when he kisses them. It hurts to hear him say, "I love you" and know he's not talking to me.

He showed me some photos of Tripp on his phone, and really looked at me too. It's just... I don't know. I want to think he's missing me a little, but I'm pretty sure he's not. I guess he just really believes I'm over it now, and that I won't think such stupid things anymore.

Oh yeah. He had borrowed one of my big blankets for the kids to sit on at the lake, and while they watched the fireworks. He brought it in and showed me there's smears of blood all over it. Said he's sorry about that. Then he said "You can take care of that." In a way like he had complete confidence I would be able to get it out. None of that bothered me. But knowing that it's his blood? It's driving me crazy. Like I just want to go curl up in the bloody blanket and cry. Isn't that stupid? I'm starting to question my sanity here. I can't even believe I told you that. It's a part of him though. I miss him. His smell and taste and the way he feels.

Don't worry though. I'm not going to do it. Just considered it briefly.

God. I wrote too much again. Sorry.

One other thing... I just hope he has someone to take care of him. I wish it was me, but it can't be. So I hope someone really is.

Still Alive

I wanted to check in and let you all know I'm still alive. I've been working really hard on my book the last week. I started it in March or April, I think, but just didn't have any time to devote to it. Since Thomas has been gone, though, I can stay up until 1 or 2am and write. Since last Wednesday, I've gotten to about 20,000 words. I think I had 1 or 2,ooo before, so that works out to an awful lot!

I'm proud of myself for working on it again. And I think it's really good. It's a lot harder than blogging, though. It's easy to write here, even the hard stuff, because I'm just telling you what happened or how I feel. This is all made up stuff, about made up people in made up situations. Funny thing, though, is sometimes? When I'm really into it? It doesn't feel so made up.

So. That's it. I'm exhausted and my eyes hurt from looking at the monitor so much. But I'm still here, and doing pretty well this week. (Actually, that's a fucking lie but it's what I'm telling myself so that's what I'll tell you too.)

Hopeless

There are days that are pretty good, even though they're hard. Days that I have hope for the future. There are different kinds of hope, too. On a great day I look forward to my life, knowing that I'll survive this. When I look forward to going back to work and meeting new people. I'm excited to date and one day meet a new man, a better man, that I can love. And who'll love me back the way I deserve. And I hope Thomas never wants to come back because I know I can do better. I also know that if he ever does want me back I won't be able to say no. So I hope he never wants to. On those days the future seems so bright! I can see happiness again.

Then there are the days I hope he'll realize what he's lost and want to work it out. That this new and "improved" version of the man I love will have vanished and he'll be his old self again. And we'll talk it out and I'll tell him no but mean yes. And he'll beg, and tell me how much he loves me and everything will magically go back to the way they used to be. With a few modifications of course, like me being strong again, and him being more understanding. Of course, I would still go back to work but only part time for the fun of it. The kids will be happy again, without that underlying anger. These days... They hurt like hell because I'm pretty sure that's never going to happen. The hope is always there, in the hidden parts of my heart, and my mind sees the reality of the situation. But I still hope.

The really bad days are the ones completely without hope. I know Thomas is never coming back. I can see now that he wasn't as blissfully happy I was all those years. I know that he's done with me, and I'm pretty sure he's seeing someone else now. No one will tell me that he is, maybe they don't even know. But I feel like he is. The point is I know it's over and it's time to move on. To let go of the hope. That only leaves me hopeless, though.

I don't want to go back to work. I really don't. I don't want to leave the kids, but it's more than that. I don't want to have to get up early and get all of us ready, to go work forty or more hours per week and still come home and have all this work to do. Right now, if I don't feel like doing anything I really don't have to. Except for all the normal stuff with the kids. I've gotten a little lazy over the last couple of years.

And what's the point of ever dating again? Just to have a space filler? I don't want that but I don't want to love this way again either. How do you love less, though? It seems so pointless and impossible. Everything I do, I do it all the way. So I can take the chance, stand on the edge of the cliff, but never have the courage to jump again? I have no faith in anything anymore. I'm an empty shell. I love my kids, deeply, but I know one day they'll grow up and the love they have for me won't be as important to them. I can accept that, but I can't ever accept losing my heart again.

I'm utterly and completely devoid of hope today. Even thinking about the kids and my hopes for them isn't lifting me back up. There's just blankness. Blackness.

I have to do something to stop this. I really don't know what, though. I could go for therapy and maybe that would help. Who knows. But how can I when I can't even get help with the kids? I really don't want an anti-depressant. I can do this. I know it! It just takes time and sometimes I forget it's only been a month. And four days.

I want to write funny and happy posts again. I'm so tired of myself right now.

Wish List

I wish you didn't look so good when you got here

I wish you wouldn't smile at me that way, like we're friends, because we're not

I wish you didn't smell so good

I wish my body didn't still ache for you

I wish I didn't miss you so much still

I wish you would just go away

I wish you would come back

I wish I didn't look like crap when you got here

I wish I could just forget

I wish you looked like you were hurting too

I wish you could just understand me

I wish I didn't love you anymore

I wish.

Still a Stay at Home Mom

Some nights, after a really hard day, it's just hard to sit down and put these thoughts here. Today was like that. In fact, the last few have been. I keep meaning to write, but don't.

I didn't get the job the other day. I was really a bit pissed about it, too, because I interviewed with the same woman. She walked in the room saying that everything looked great, but the training class was that night and everyone who was hired for it was hired the week before. So basically I wasted two hours of my life for her to tell me no. I was a little confused about it all until I talked to Verna on the way out.

She told me no one like the woman who interviewed me, and that she (Verna) won't even talk to her. Also, that the position in that woman's section got filled the night before, so she wasn't concerned anymore. And at first it hurt my ego a little bit, but then I realized it wasn't really about me. It was about the woman herself, and her bitchiness to Verna. And really? With my resume I could do WAY better than Dillard's. Plus she told me if they do call me later I would start in the Kids section or maybe Young Mens. And that I would be there for several months. I don't fucking think so. Cosmetics would have been fun. But the regular store? No fucking way.

When I left, my first impulse was to text Thomas and tell him I didn't get the job. Which, naturally, wasn't an option. So I got really pissed about the whole situation. I mean, yeah, I wanted to go back to work part-time when Noah and Tessa go to school in August. But I didn't want to be looking for full-time work, or to be concerned over the pay, or to leave my kids! I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't want any of this!

When I got to my mom and dad's to get the kids, my mom told me she needed a break from them (she had them Monday and Tuesday, and would have them the next day too) until at least Monday (this was on Tuesday) (I know, if I would blog every day I wouldn't have to explain what day was what.). The next day was Wednesday, the usual day they keep all the grand kids, and I asked my dad while I dropped them off if she was going to be able to keep them through the summer. The plan was I would put Tripp in daycare, and she would just keep the biggers. My dad told me they had talked about it the night before and he was sure I would understand if it got to be too much for her.

And what would that mean? Well, if I already had a job that would mean I would be fucked and not in a good way. She tries, and she means well, but if it got to be too much I would really be in trouble.

So I decided the best thing to do would be wait until Noah and Tessa start school in August. Then I could just put Tripp in daycare and my parents would only have to keep Noah and Tessa after school. Really, going back to work right now would just be selfish of me. I just don't want to be stuck here in the house any longer. I want to go out and meet people! I don't want this full-time job anymore. I talked to Thomas and he's fine with me waiting until August. He'll keep giving me the same money he always has to pay the bills. And the kids need me this last summer. Their dad just left them, it really wouldn't be fair for me to leave them this fast, too.

Thursday and today have been what's quickly becoming "normal." I don't think of Thomas all the time now, but I still think of him a lot. I want to hate him.

But I just can't.

We still text almost every day. At least five days a week. And that really does make it harder. I wish I could just make a clean break, fresh start, whatever. I wish I didn't have to still see him all the time. Today he texted me telling me what time he would get the kids tomorrow and he started it off with "Hey Wendy." I know it doesn't mean anything, but it bothered me that he said my name. He shouldn't be allowed to say my name now! It feels too... I don't know... Intimate?

He's coming tomorrow to get the kids. I know I already said that, but I keep thinking it. And even though I don't really want him back, every time he's supposed to come I think, in the very back of my mind, maybe this time he'll realize what he lost. I know he won't, though. The way he is now I don't even want him back. But I miss my family. I miss my friend! He was so much more than just my husband!

It's getting better. I'm not hurting the way I was, but I still hurt. I realize his problems with me are actually just his problems. I couldn't have tried any harder to make him happy. But it doesn't erase all the good memories. Doesn't erase all the pictures I loved so much from my computer. One day I need to just move all the photos of him to a different folder, but at this point I can't. It's too hard to look at them, and I have thousands to go through.

One day I'm sure I'll be strong enough. That day just isn't today.

The Smell of Success. Or something witty like that

Today I applied for my first job in two and a half years! I interviewed with the Cosmetics Sales Manager today, and I have a "formal interview" scheduled with the store manager tomorrow at 2:00. I'm nervous and excited and scared and confident and everything else my fucked up Gemininess causes. I'm just filled to the brim with conflicting emotions about it!

So for the details... My friend, Verna (I would call her my best friend because she really is, but I'm not totally sure she feels the same way) is the manager of the Clinique counter at Dillard's and I asked her if she would mind me applying there. Of course she's helping me as much as she can, so she told me to come on down. I'm not sure that I would want to work for her because I wouldn't want anything to wind up ruining our friendship. But it sure would be fun to work in the same area as her! She did tell me though that they usually promote within the store to the cosmetics department, but she would do what she could to help me.

Today I barely managed to get to the store. There were all kinds of problems and I was really worried I wouldn't be able to pull off a successful interview. But the woman liked me and hopefully tomorrow I'll be hired! Verna told me tonight they may start me in fragrances. I'm nervous about that because so many perfumes give me headaches, but I'll make sure to keep plenty of Tylenol in my purse.

But, geez. I'm going back to work????

I'm nervous about wearing heels all day and actually standing all day! And about the women I'll be working with. I'm afraid they won't like me. Maybe I'm not classy enough. And what about clothes? I don't have anything to wear. My brother gave me a couple of hundred dollars for my birthday, so I can easily get some, but what if the other women don't like them?

And more importantly, how the hell do I get all my stuff done here at home when I'm working five days a week? I know we won't be here all day to make too much mess, but I'm worried about the kids' routines. If I get off work at 6:00, pick up Tripp from daycare, get Noah and Tessa from my mom and dad's, it'll be 8:00 by the time we get home. They still need baths, dinner, help with homework, all kinds of things. And bedtime is 8:00! So when do I get to spend time with them?

I know we'll adjust and make new routines, but I'm really not sure how the transition is going to go. I also know I'm not the only single working mother of three. So that's why I wrote this not so great post. I need help. How do I do this?

A Lot of Maybe's

I've been thinking to myself that I put entirely too much of myself out there. Everyone in my personal life and in my Internet life knows exactly how I feel about everything. I really don't hold back and it got a little embarrassing. So I told myself I would blog about the kids and really nothing else about me. But I keep feeling this need, and then @sorcheechee told me today that my words can help others and that complete strangers can empathize. And that decided me. I need to write, I need to get it out and talk about it. I'll try not to do it too much, because I really don't think that's healthy either, but between happy posts about the kids, and irritated posts about the kids, and funny posts about the kids, there will be posts about me. Because I'm not the only one going through this mess.

I've been doing okay this week. The burning, constant ache has settled down a bit. I still miss Thomas and the life we had together, but I've gotten used to him not being here. We talked Monday night, which was the night before and turned into the very early morning of my birthday, and I really put it all out there. I had realized the mistakes I had made, and I hoped he had, too. I didn't beg him to come back to me, but I asked him to try one more time. I suggested he just come over and hang out a couple of nights. That we wouldn't talk about us at all, just watch a movie or whatever. I wanted him to see if the feeling was still there at all. I just wanted him to try. I am proud that I wasn't pathetic about it all. And he assured me that he did love me so much. But he went on to say that I "shuttered" him when we had our last fight.

When he left, I really thought I was going to freak out because I knew it was really over. He wasn't just mad, or just being dramatic. He really doesn't love me anymore. I prepared myself for the emotional hurricane as I shut and locked the door. The tears began to build in my eyes and I went to the back door to have a cigarette. And the tears dried up before I was half way through it.

I thought maybe I had just distracted myself with the cigarette, so I deliberately thought of his face as he told me he doesn't love me anymore. And I still didn't cry. I wanted to cry. I wanted to want to scream and rage and tear at my hair or something. But it wasn't there anymore. I did lose another tear as I thought of the kids and the fact that they would grow up without their beloved Daddy, but that was it.

And I realized I'm okay with this.

Don't get me wrong, though. Let me go a little deeper for you. I love Thomas. I always have and I know I always will. He was the one for me. And I also know that he truly loved me, and maybe I was the one for him, too. He admitted that the other night, but it didn't really matter. (And yes, I do know he was telling the truth.) I know I'll never, ever love another man the way I love/loved him. But is that such a bad thing?

Maybe it's better to love a little less. Maybe it makes a stronger relationship if your partner knows you love him, but also realizes he has to fight for you. Thomas always knew I would always love him no matter what. That I would always be here taking care of him and his kids. Maybe that's what he meant when he said I was suffocating him. I know it wasn't that I gave him too much attention. Maybe it was just the knowledge of the depth of my love that became too much. And that knowledge gave him power over me. I don't want that ever again.

Theoretically, I've moved on. My brain has moved on, and my body continues to move along, but somewhere inside, deep, I'm stuck on pause. I would do anything to hit fast forward, or even play, but I lost that remote long ago. I'm just waiting for him to come back and hit play. He's the only one who can. And I know that isn't going to happen, but I'm still stuck there. A face frozen with a broken smile and sad eyes on the inside, but putting on a brave face and pretending to be happy on the outside.

The hard thing is I really understand Thomas. I wish I didn't. I won't sit here and list all the things I understand. It won't help anything. And you know? If he wasn't happy here anymore I don't blame him for leaving. I just wish he would have told me how unhappy he was so I could fix it. When I told him that Monday night, and that he should have told me the things I did that made him mad, he said he shouldn't have had to tell me. That after nearly five years together I should have known him well enough. I realize now he tried to tell me, but was never blunt about it. And I was just too busy and distracted to give it much thought.

Forget fast forward or play. I want the rewind button.

I'm looking for a job now, have a potential one lined up even. Hopefully soon I'll be working one of the make up counters at Dillard's with my best friend, Verna. It seems easy enough and there can't be that much stress. I like make-up, too, so that's a plus. I'm really looking forward to making my own money and getting back out in the world. I can't exactly say I've always loved being a stay at home mom. I can't wait to meet new people, see new faces every day. And maybe, just maybe, I'll meet myself a little distraction.

If I'm ready for that, which is still under internal debate.