Who’s Crying Now?

As I was telling my mom about the crybaby’s meltdown the topic of why he’s crying came up.  I touched on this the other day when I recounted all the “blessings” in his life:  working with his best friend at his dream job, only 2 hours away from his mommy so he can attend every family event, brand new whore of a girlfriend, a net gain of 2 children that have no idea what a shitty human being he is.  He left because he wasn’t happy.  All of that crap was supposed to make him happy and yet, according to him, he cries every single day for hours.

We’ve already established that when his lips are moving he’s lying but let’s pretend for one moment that he wasn’t only fishing for sympathy and that he really is having a tough time.  My first question is, “Why?” but then before he can answer I want to scream at him, “Shut up!  You disordered fuckwit!  You moved me away from all my friends, my support network, my volunteer activities that could have helped take my mind off of all of this crap. You moved me away from people who could have helped me get a job.  You cheated on me with your cousin- AGAIN!  You lied to me.  You played me for a fool.  You deceived me and stole from me.  You could have left two years ago and we would have all been in a much better place but no!  You moved my children away from everything they loved and knew and then you dropped a grenade into their lives.  For what?  So you can feel sorry for yourself and cry every day to garner sympathy from the enabling idiots with whom you surround yourself?”

I swear the man child cries more than I have and I was the one who was cheated on!  In fact, this post isn’t so much about him and his whining as it is about me and my kickass behavior.  Seriously!

I found out he was cheating on me six days after our insanely expensive pool was finally filled with water and our kids could swim in it.  I found out he was cheating with *her* again 4 days shy of my 2 year D-Day anti-versary and only a little more than a year after I moved across the country so he could have yet another dream job.  I found out he was cheating on me and giving her money and they were both saying horrible things about me less than a year after beginning to pay the mortgage on a brand new house, buying brand new furniture to go in that house, and purchasing a brand new car.  I had just switched cell phone carriers months earlier, paid for a license plate renewal for three years, and brought new cats into the household.  Did I whine and cry like a little bitch?  No.  I called around and made appointments to go see attorneys.  I found out where I stood once we divorced.

I didn’t spend my holidays and weekends with a new lover and his shiny new kids.  I spent them with my children and my family.  My bed was empty (unless you count 2 oversized dogs- which I don’t).

I haven’t had someone holding my hand this whole entire time, telling me I’m so pretty and so sexy and my husband never deserved me and this new guy, well, he’ll never treat me the shitty way my husband did.  I’ve gone through this divorce all by myself, wondering if I’ll ever even date again, much less find someone I love.

My family is 10 hours away and I have to pay roughly $80 in tolls to go visit them.  He lives 2 hours away from his family now.

He works alongside his idiot best friend.  Mine are all hundreds of miles away.

In every instance he got what he wanted, yet he continues to cry and portray himself as a victim who suffers endlessly at my hands.  He is the one that needs to be consoled every day and I am the one making sure the bills get paid, the pets are fed and the kids are taken care of.  All by myself.

Don’t get me wrong; I have my days.  Then again, I’m the one that got fucked over.  I’m entitled to a couple of rough days.  However, you will not find a single friend or relative that has seen me cry, much less cry for hours every day, on their shoulders.  Not once!  I save that shit for when I’m alone and I put on a brave face for the rest of the world.

I’m not against crying.  Lord knows I’ve done it before and I’ve certainly had my moments.  I bawled every day once I found out he had quit his job until I finally got the support check.  If you read here regularly you’ve come across my post, A Letter to My Kids.  Definitely not a shining moment for me.  I’ve had several posts like that where it’s overwhelming and I want to crawl under the covers and wake up a few years later.  But I’m not making a spectacle of myself like CF.  Then again maybe crying over the phone isn’t as satisfying as sobbing hysterically in person and all my friends are hundreds of miles away so ugly crying over the phone would have to do.  I do have a few friends here in this new town but they aren’t super close friends and I would never feel comfortable crying in front of them.

I don’t want to cry in front of my kids and upset them, although I did cry when I finally told them that we were divorcing.  That was one time, though, in the very beginning.  We all cried together and vowed to stick together.

As for my mom I told her recently, “I think you’re more devastated by this divorce than I am!”  To which she replied, “I think I am!”  She wasn’t especially close to him but she is astounded that he has done the things he has done; the idea that he could walk out the door and move out of the state without saying a word to his kids boggles her mind.  I know it hurts her to see me hurt and to know what I’m going through so I keep a stiff upper lip around her, too.  There’s nothing she can do for me anyway.

It comes down to this- there’s no point in crying about it.  What’s done is done.  I’m going to put on my big girl panties and walk through it.  Crying is not going to help me on my journey. I try to keep a sense of humor about this whole insane chapter of my life.  It’s not necessarily funny but laughing sure as hell beats crying.  Captain Cry Baby can wallow in self pity and cry for hours if that’s what makes him happy.  He wanted all of this; he got it and now he cries.  I never wanted any of this yet I’m the strong one; I’m soldiering on with nary a tear on anyone’s shoulder.  Shouldn’t this be the other way around?


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