A Little Slice of Fate

Back in June I wrote about the one year anniversary of my life falling apart when good ol’ Zack basically got fired from his job and just washed his hands of us. Out of sight; out of mind. I was with the mobster that weekend. The significance of that date barely registered because of the company I was keeping.

As fate would have it the anniversary of us moving back to my home state is rapidly approaching. Once again I will be with the mobster, and once again I bet I will take note of the date, shrug, and turn my attention to the future.

Is it fate? Was he an angel sent to help erase the painful past? Was it just dumb luck? Whatever it was, whatever this is, I’ll take it! I am infinitely grateful that he’s in my life.

Watching Someone Else’s Shit Show

Three channels. That’s all they’ve got, according to Chump Lady. Charm, rage and self pity.

I’ve only seen rage and self pity from my shit eating chimp. My mobster gets to see all three from his lovely delusional STBX.

I wrote once upon a time that maybe I got lucky with CF basically vanishing from our lives. Watching my mobster go through the things he’s had to endure makes me at least somewhat thankful for my situation. I don’t have to worry about running into CF or Harley. That’s a constant worry for him. It’s a small town to begin with. They’re everywhere. She still attends events for the kids and often brings her man whore with her. I, on the other hand, never see CF and Harley.

I don’t have to watch my kids go off with him (or him and her) and wonder if they’ll forget about everything I’ve gone through to keep things stable for them, or if they’ll begin to accept the whore.

A mere two days after we began talking Mobster’s son graduated from high school. This meant he would end up seeing the STBX, especially because her relatives were staying with him.

Fortunately, she left her AP at home so Mobster didn’t have to deal with that. But at the end of the festivities she asked him if she could have a hug.

Are you taking notes? This person who has been lying, cheating, and gas lighting, who walked out on her husband and kids to go live with another man, is actually asking the person she has cruelly betrayed to comfort her. Can you believe this shit?

That’s what they do. They destroy everything. They do whatever the hell they want. Then when consequences hit they are suddenly the poor innocent victim in need of comfort and understanding.

Can I have a hug? I just want to make sure I can keep you on the hook. I’ll throw a few kibbles your way and let you think if you wait long enough you might still have a shot with me.

Can I have a hug? I’m suddenly realizing everything I’ve given up. And Mr. Perfect isn’t quite as perfect and wonderful as I thought. So maybe you could hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay and you still love me and want me no matter how badly I’ve treated you.

I told him from the very beginning that once she realized there was someone else that she would be back. It’s all part of what Chump Lady calls “hoovering”. They hoover around trying to suck you back in. He disagreed, saying she was happy with this new guy; he was everything she said she wanted. And she definitely didn’t want him back.

I then patiently explained to him that neither of his two points had anything to do with her coming back around.

You are her Plan B, her backup. You have never left her up until this point, even after everything she has done. You didn’t leave her this time because of the affair. You asked her to quit drinking. She fully expects you to be there when and if this new romance fails.

I’d go so far as to say she expects him to be pining for her even if this new relationship lasts forever. She considers him hers. No matter what.

That’s who they are. It’s what they do. They are selfish and think only of themselves. We are inconsequential to them. You hear about it. You read the wise words of those who have already traveled this path. But you don’t always fully believe it until you’ve experienced it. It’s fascinating.

Can I just tell everyone now that I am a freaking prophet? That, or I read a lot of Chump Lady. Because his STBX is hoovering hard. And she is flipping through all three channels like crazy. And again I find it fascinating because it is so completely textbook.

Shortly after discovering I existed she suddenly got a wild hair up her ass and decided she needed to get more of her belongings from the house. She had to go through their youngest, or maybe she chose to do so; either way she was highly irate that he had, up until that point, refused to have contact with her.

Oh, here it comes! Here comes the rage: You need to be a real man and talk to me.

Translation: How dare you cut off my supply? Why are you ignoring me? You want me! You can’t live without me! So start acting like it. Know your place and fall into line or I shall have to insult your manliness. You’re being a big meanie for ignoring me. You’re being a child! Grow up and grovel before me like a real man!

When rage doesn’t work she decides to flip the switch over to self pity. She tells him she tried to kill herself.

Translation: Don’t you want to worry about me and tell me not to do such things? Don’t you feel sorry for me? Ride in on your white horse and rescue me! Show me you care, dammit!

But wait! There’s more! She’s also able to turn on the charm. She told him he was the best she had ever had. And, when asked point blank what it was she wanted, did she want to still be his wife, her response was to assure him she would move back home in a heartbeat but the kids wouldn’t allow that.

Bravo!  I like what you’ve done there. Stroke his ego. Make him feel like he’s special and like he’s got something no one else ever will. Then keep his hopes alive by letting him think you’d dump your married lover and come back to him in a second if only the children you gave birth to would only accept you and let you live in the home they don’t pay for. Those damn kids!

Actually, I think my favorite part was when she coyly told him, “We can’t do this!”

kibbles-234x300

Oh, kibbles, kibbles! How delightful.

He shut that down quickly by telling her he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about and he was never having sex with her again.

And just to make sure she followed the textbook to a T she managed to pull out the ol’ “I want to be friends,” card. Again, stunning work. It’s not original at all but the copy was truly outstanding.

Yes, let’s be friends. I can’t imagine why anyone who has been lied to and betrayed wouldn’t want to be “friends” with the person who lied, cheated, backstabbed, gaslighted, and betrayed them. You don’t want to be friends with someone like that? That’s crazy talk!

Apparently in his quest for closure they met for coffee the next day. I guess that’s when he told her he was moving on and he had every intention of getting remarried someday. He wasn’t going to let her be his final chapter. She must have been on the charm channel, fully believing that his invitation to have coffee must be code for, “I want you back!”, because he said the tone of the conversation changed once he told her about his feelings for me and how he was going to marry me someday even though I thought he was crazy.

Then she told him she would call him at lunch. You’ve gotta admire her persistence. She cannot believe he would ever be done with her, can she? He told her not to bother because I would be calling and we always talk at lunch.

That pissed her right off; here comes the rage again. “Fine! Go have fun with your girlfriend!”

Thankfully he was able to see the absurdity in the situation as well.

As he said, so she’s pissed off that he’s seeing someone after she moved out of their house, left him and their kids, and moved in with her fuck buddy?

Yes, Mobster, that about sums it up. As I’ve told you you are her backup plan. You are supposed to sit around and wait for her. You are supposed to be at her beck and call. You are supposed to to remain faithful to her until your dying day.

Now she’s back to texting and calling. He has her blocked on texting but not on phone calls so if she calls, her text messages show up as archived.

She called 11 times one evening and then turned around and called 14 times the next morning. And I’m not talking about “call once, wait 20 minutes, call again.” I’m talking about the “call him, hit redial immediately, hit redial immediately, hit redial immediately” 14 freaking times, kind of calling. I know this because we were video chatting when she began calling. He ended up shutting his phone off once we finished talking.

That’s some hard core hoovering! It screams, “Don’t ignore me!”

That doesn’t even touch on when she called him asking for help filling out her W-2s and then began crying because she was lonely. Doesn’t she have a boyfriend for that shit? Oh wait, there it is once again. Rage and charm have not produced the desired effect so maybe a little more self pity will suck him back in again. Why ask your live-in boyfriend for help and pass over a perfectly good chance to fuck with your STBX’s head?

To a cheater it’s perfectly rational thinking. They should never experience consequences because they’ve done nothing wrong. So when you leave your spouse for someone else and it’s not the perfect paradise you imagined OR you just can’t resist the idea of two people fighting for you, of course you throw a few bread crumbs your spouse’s way. Of course you expect them to offer you a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic hug or two, maybe even an invitation to jump into bed again for old time’s sake. Hey, I told you you were the best I ever had! You expect them to be there waiting if things go south or you decide the new flavor of the month isn’t quite as sparkly as you first thought.

As I said, when she calls the text messages show up as archived messages. Once again she’s flipping through those three channels, trying to find a little crevice she can wedge herself into.

Rage:  I thought you were an adult and could talk but I guess not.

Of course an adult would subject himself to your constant mind fucking!

Self pity: I’m having a seizure. Help!

Really? You’re suffering a medical emergency and your first thought isn’t to call 9-1-1 or the man you’re living with, but to text the man you lied to and cheated on and who is divorcing you? That’s some bat shit craziness you’ve got going on.

Charm: Mobster Lobster StarfishMan (or any other nickname she used)…

See? See how cute and charming I can be? Don’t you remember all the good times we had? Forget about the men I fucked and concentrate on the cute nicknames I used for you!

Self pity: Why won’t you talk to me? Please talk to me. I wish you would talk to me.

Why are you being so mean to me? Don’t you want to hop back on that pick me roller coaster? I’m insinuating you might still have a chance with me. Why aren’t you jumping at this opportunity.

Charm: Can we meet up and talk over coffee?

You might get lucky. <wink wink>

And my personal favorite… Rage: 25 years of love and friendship and my crap, no response from my best friend.

Yes, 25 years of love and friendship have been decimated because he won’t entertain your attempts to suck him back into the abyss of crazy and text with you or meet up with you. The fact that you cheated on him and in fact walked out on him and your kids plays absolutely no part in your marriage ending. You certainly weren’t throwing away 25 years when you moved in with another man. You fully expected him to wait around forever, quietly yearning for you while you flitted about and did whatever you pleased.

And the part about him being your best friend? O.M.G! If that’s the way you treat your best friend I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies. He’s no longer your best friend. Your new boyfriend should probably take over that role. I have a feeling he would be none too pleased to see those text messages where you’re begging your STBX not to ignore you and declaring him your best friend. I can tell you right now if I ever caught wind of Mobster declaring you to be his best friend I would be outta here so fast it wouldn’t even be funny.

It really is an amazing process to watch as it plays out. For his part he has handled it beautifully. He told me the other day he finally read all the texts and he felt nothing. He was simply done with her.

It would be very easy to get worried about this. They had 25 years together. We’ve had a couple months. Her walking out and him filing for divorce are relatively fresh. And she’s hoovering hard! I would imagine that might be hard to resist after so many years together and all that hurt. It must feel good to know that the person who discarded you now wants you back.

But here’s the thing. If he does choose to go back and ends things with us, I’ll survive. He’s wonderful. I want to spend every minute of every day with him. I will be devastated and I will cry and I will be broken hearted for quite some time. But I’ll survive; I’ve lived through worse.

Here’s another thing. She may have 25 years with him but a lot of those years were miserable, filled with lies and gas lighting and cheating and out of control drinking. He looks back now and tells me she was never happy, never content. As he likes to say, “She could win the lottery and then bitch that they gave her too many tens.” Wow! Sounds like someone I was married to!

She’s got rage, charm, and self-pity. Those are her only three channels now. Me? I’ve got nothing but laughter, good times, and dreams of the future with him. I’ve also got honesty, integrity and faithfulness.

So I’m going to sit back and watch this shit show, offering support and encouragement when I can. I might even say a prayer of thanks that CF figured out quite early that I wasn’t going to play. I realize he had already decided to discard me but he did want to keep things civil. Thankfully he didn’t care enough and/or was full enough on the ego kibbles Harley was throwing his way that he didn’t need to bother with me.

Watching her flip through those channels, trying so desperately to suck him back into the mind games is fascinating once you realize what’s really going on. I’m almost positive he gets it, too. He is offended that she would think he would wait around for her. I guess that means when he is faced with choosing rage, charm and self pity, or laughter, honesty, integrity, and faithfulness it will be a pretty easy choice.

Another Bad Day Back in 2015

March 2015

Today is shaping up to be a bad day.  Yesterday was not hot either. I called about getting a loan for a pool finally.  Found out, as expected, that we can’t do a home equity loan because we just bought the house and don’t have the equity needed to get one for the pool.  So, we’re left with a personal loan.  To borrow the full amount would end up being a payment of $850 per month.  No fucking way.  So, I ask about how much stock he has because he had said he would do whatever was necessary to make sure we got the pool.  He has around $30,000 he can cash in; that doesn’t take into consideration the taxes, which he thinks would be around $10,000.  We would still need to take out a loan for the rest of it. A $20,000 loan would amount to a payment over 7 years of about $340.  That’s doable, although I hate the fact we’re paying that on top of depleting all of his available stock.  I’m still debating whether or not to go through with it, and it all hinges on whether or not the loan goes through. There’s also the fact that we have no idea how much of our savings is going to go towards taxes, if any, because we don’t know if we owe or not.  And there’s also that pesky little business about his week long hospital stay in the psych ward and not knowing if insurance will cover it or if we’ll be paying on that for the rest of our lives.  So that was my plight yesterday, and yes, I know in the grand scheme of things my problems are not that big.  It’s not a problem at all, simply a disappointment.

Today I’m in a slight funk just thinking about how embarrassing my situation is.  Everyone involved with Zack knows what he did.  I’m sure they look at me and think, “What did she do wrong?  Why did he cheat on her?  What were her failings?”  I’ve got his best friend spying on my FB page and reporting back to him.  I’m sure he and his wife got a great laugh over the fact that Zack cheated on me, and of course, I’m painted as the crazy one.  He’s perfectly sane and I’m a nutcase.  A nutcase that deserved to be cheated on.

I’m sure everyone in his family knows he cheated.  I’m sure they’re all talking about it and why I deserved it and how much they love Harley and wish he had chosen her.  I mean, why bother to have an affair if you’re not going to leave your wife?

I’m so tired of feeling humiliated.  I’m tired of being portrayed as the bad guy.  Zack somehow is a fucking saint and I’m the awful person.  Maybe I should go off and fuck some guy and then *I* could be the good guy!  But no, I have a moral compass and my moral compass says no sex with someone other than your husband. So I guess I get to remain the bad guy because we all know only the cheaters are the good guys.  And I continue to be humiliated and embarrassed by the fact that my husband cheated and it’s the topic of conversation with all his friends and family, while no one on my side knows what he did, with the exception of 3 people.

I’m tired today.  I’m tired and I’m depressed and I’m in a shitty mood.  He swore this move was going to be a positive.  It was exactly what he needed.  And he’s been unhappier here than I’ve ever seen him.  We made promises to our kids and we are slowly breaking all of them, one by one. I did not move 2000 miles away from my friends and uproot my kids’ lives so we could downsize and give them less.

I’m really pissed about this pool.  I’ve been telling everyone we’re getting one and now that it’s go time there’s a distinct possibility that we won’t get one. Who’s going to come visit me now?  Hey, we have a quilt museum! Or, if you don’t mind getting in the car and driving 30 minutes to an hour we can go visit some caverns. And if you’ve got some cash to spend on a hotel room in DC, that’s only 2 hours away but if you don’t spend the night you’re going to miss out on a lot. But as far as BFE goes?  Yeah, there’s nothing.  Absolutely nothing. I can take you down to where the food trucks are. That’s exciting.

And while I’m in bitch mode I’ll just say it.  This is not my dream house.  We bought this house because we could put a pool in the back yard.  If we’re not going to put a pool in then I would have preferred the house over on Diamond.  That was my dream house.  It was gorgeous.  Marble entryway. A larger hallway.  A kitchen that had an island and a breakfast bar AND space for a kitchen table.  We don’t have that here.  We have to eat at the island or at the dining room table in the dining room. No kitchen table.  That house had amazing views of the city.  We have no amazing views.  The master bedroom was bigger and had a sitting room, plus the bathroom had a separate jetted tub and shower, as opposed to my discount hotel shower/tub combo.  The family room had a built in wet bar.  The enclosed porch was big enough for a table and chairs plus a hammock.  It was gorgeous out there.  We have a small square closed in porch.  It fits a table and chairs.  That’s it.  No hammock.   Then they had a much bigger hot tub, also on the deck, and a separate deck off the master bedroom. And they had 2 fireplaces. I really really liked that house.  The only drawback was the backyard and not being able to put a pool in.  And the kids would have gone to Whoreville City schools so Rock Star wouldn’t have the friends she has now, but does that matter?  I mean, she wouldn’t know she had lost anything.

So anyway, I’m in a house that I think is ok.  I don’t hate it but I also don’t think it has a single feature that makes you say, “Wow!”  It never made my top 3 list of houses I thought I would pick when looking online, although I will admit that when we walked through the first time I did like it. I bought this house that is ok because it had a large backyard where we could put a pool in.  We chose this one over the house in D because 1. someone else was going to bid on it, 2. it was not fenced in and we were going to need that, and 3. lack of storage space.  We chose it over the one on Diamond because of the backyard.  That was pretty much it.

OK, I think I’m done bitching.  Maybe.  I’m still pissed about the pool.  And I’m still furious that I have to deal with the humiliation of being cheated on. And I don’t like being talked about like I’m some nutcase or like I deserved to be cheated on.  But, I’ll get over it, I’m sure.

Present Day Sam Says: I’m not sorry I bitched about him and the humiliation I felt knowing everyone in his family knew I was cheated on. I am sorry I bitched about my house.

I grew to love that house. I turned it into a home. I turned it into our home. Then he turned around and destroyed it.

I’m also slightly sorry about bitching about my pool. In hindsight those worries are so insignificant and at the time they were in the forefront of my mind. But as I’ve frequently said it’s not like I would have emerged from this situation with any more cash. He would have cashed in even more stock and handed it over to Harley and the hooligans.

What’s Up?

Hi! It’s me again. Sorry about all the long breaks. Blame it on the mobster. I spend all my free time talking to him. No time for blogging.

So what have I been up to, you may be wondering? Just working and smiling at my good fortune. I do have a few tidbits to share with everyone.

#1- I am dreaming again. Like, the nighttime, what happens when you sleep, dreaming. Not the planning for the future dreaming. For the longest time I couldn’t remember having any dreams. I don’t know if I was just so physically tired they didn’t register with me or what. But I’m dreaming again. I still can’t remember them but I know I’m having them.

#2- I never realized how much my emotions impacted my daughter. My mom was the one who took Rock Star back to our former state. During their travel time Rock Star told her that she was much happier now that I was finally happy.

That makes me feel so sad. I thought I was keeping it from them. I thought I was a better actress. I mean, there’s only so much you can do. Working two jobs, getting up at 3:20 in the morning, never having any time for your kids and having no social life takes a toll on a person.

But she’s happy now because I’m happy. What a sweet kid.

She also told my mom she has no plans to invite her dad to her graduation and that she doesn’t want him there.

#3- Rock Star had a dream of her own that she shared with us the other day. She said she dreamed that Harley showed up at one of her football games to watch her cheer. How did that go, you may be wondering? Not well. Not well at all. In her dreams she beat the shit out of Harley.

#4- I put my notice in at Target. No more 3:30 wake up calls for this gal! At least not for a while. I may end up having to go back but for a little while I’m going to have a break.

I was actually quite nervous about it because I haven’t had to resign from a job since 2000. When I gave them my notice they asked me what they could do to keep me and asked about me working fewer hours. That made me feel good. Apparently I’m a valued worker. I told them I would think about it but decided to go ahead and make a clean break. My last day isn’t until August but I have a full six days off before going back and working my last three days. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it!

#5- My lawyer continues to crack me up. Hey, at $250/hour she had better be funny! I got another check for $555.55 so I let her know and also filled her in on what 55555 is supposed to mean. I did tell her it was possible that it was unrelated. She wrote back: Well, there’s the explanation. What a jerk!

Makes me laugh every time she drops the professional demeanor and lets loose with what she really thinks about him. She also added that it was time to file for the show cause.

Along similar lines I finally deposited the three checks he’s sent me. The person who did the actual transaction is a co-worker and she noted the names on the check. She asked me how I felt about seeing Harley’s name on the top of the check and made some comment about it.

You know, so much shit has been done in the name of their very special love that I just don’t notice it anymore. It was, however, nice to be validated when someone else looks at it and says, “This crap is fucked up!” Yes, they are a classy couple.

That is my short update. Tell me how you’re doing!

Give Me a Freaking Break

It’s Thursday once again. We get about 52 of them a year! So you all know what that means. It’s time for another Blast From the Past. This one isn’t so much about me and CF. It’s about the whole bullshit concept that you need to understand and accept your cheating spouse’s lingering “feelings” for his or her affair partner.

March 2015

I saw this on a blog and wanted to explore it a little more.  She writes: If you are a BS (betrayed spouse) reading this, you probably hate thinking your cheating spouse may have lingering feelings for someone else.  And not just someone else, but a someone that destroyed your marriage.  Please know- It doesn’t mean they don’t love you.  It doesn’t mean they aren’t incredibly happy they have stayed with you.  It doesn’t mean they aren’t deeply sorry.  It just means feelings are hard to “switch off”.

I’ve touched on this in regards to someone’s blog, but again I say I think this is bullshit and I don’t think I could have coped if that’s the way Zack felt.  Hell, maybe that is the way he felt; he was just smart enough to know not to tell me.

Rationally, I get it.  I’ve read it before.  They cheated with this person.  There was a relationship of some sort.  They thought they loved this person (perhaps genuinely did) and it takes time for feelings to go away.  I think someone even described it as waiting for the fog to lift.  But as a betrayed spouse I think it’s completely unfair.  You have to first forgive your spouse and then you’re being asked to bring them a cup of tea and listen sympathetically to them while they whine about having to end things with their affair partner? And yes, I know, that’s not what they’re really saying.  We’re just supposed to be sympathetic and understanding while they come to terms with their “loss”.  That’s no better.

As I’ve said before I may be a bite off your nose to spite your face kinda gal but seriously- if my husband is still mooning over his whore he can have her (hypothetically, of course.  I don’t believe mine is and this isn’t about him).  I wouldn’t care that he still loved me, that he chose me, that he’s happy he’s still married to me, or even that he’s sorry.  I refuse to be married to a man who has feelings like that for another woman.  Period.  At the very least I would demand a separation, a physical, actual separation while he got his head out of his ass.  Come back when you’re over her.  And if it takes too long I’m moving on.  Sorry, but life’s too short for that shit.  I’m not playing second fiddle to his whore.  “Oh, sweetie, I understand.  This breakup with your whore is so difficult, so hard.  Hey- I’ve got an idea!  Instead of you recovering from this difficult, heartbreaking breakup with your whore, let’s just go ahead and have you deal with an incredibly difficult divorce from your wife! That should be much easier, right?” Isn’t it kinda funny (aka sad) how you never hear advice to the OP that once he/she leaves their spouse there may be a period of mourning for said spouse and their marriage?  Apparently, breaking up with a whore is very very difficult, but ending an actual marriage is a piece of cake!

Here’s the thing.  As the wife, if he’s still mooning over the affair partner, you’ll always be second.  You’re reality.  She’s fantasy.  And I’m not just talking about the parameters of an affair and how it doesn’t match day to day life.  Think of anything in life where you’ve dreamed of something happening.  Any big event.  A wedding, a vacation, holidays, birth of a child.  So many times we create these pictures in our mind of how we want everything to go down.  I, personally, have always imagined a Christmas where I get Christmas cards out by the first week of December.  The kids and I bake Christmas goodies. My Christmas shopping is done and the gifts are wrapped well before Christmas Eve. Maybe we go out and chop down a tree and then head home to decorate said tree while Christmas carols play in the background and we sip hot chocolate.  This has never happened.  None of it.  I mean, I’ve baked a little, but it’s always last minute.  That’s what life with the affair partner is.  It’s a possibility.  It’s a fantasy.  You don’t know what life really will be like with that person until you take that next step and leave your spouse and actually marry the affair partner.  So your wife will never measure up to the affair partner when you’re waxing poetically over your lost love.  You’ve lost nothing because of the affair and the only thing you can concentrate on is how incredible your affair partner is/was and how you’ve lost this all encompassing love.  Because it’s still a possibility, a perfect fantasy not ruined by reality.

I also think it’s incredibly unfair to ask this of the betrayed spouse because you’re asking her/him to accept the fact that once again there are 3 people in this marriage.  As long as the AP is front and center in your spouse’s thoughts, it’s not just the 2 of you trying to work through this.  I don’t need that.  It’s already difficult enough.  If getting over your whore is so incredibly difficult just go be with her and stop wasting my time.

What the Future Holds

March 2015

I saw something beautiful on another blog.  She wrote:

…and I started to say, “I want to go back…” but I stopped myself.  Because I don’t want to go back.  I want to go forward.  The past holds so much pain for me, but the future- it holds nothing but promise.

I thought that was the best part, but she also wrote:

This affair- it won’t define me.  It won’t define my husband.  It won’t define our marriage.  Not if we don’t let it.

Present Day Sam says: Oh hell no! Let’s file this all under the heading of bullshit I no longer believe.

No, you know what? I take that back. I can get behind the first part: …I don’t want to go back. I want to go forward. The past holds so much pain for me, but the future- it holds nothing but promise.

I don’t want him back. I don’t want that old life. I want a new life. I want real. I want reciprocity. I want content and happy. I want to spend the rest of my life laughing, not trying to make that shit eating chimp happy.

What a Difference a Good Man Makes

Okay, okay. I’m not going to go all mushy on you here. I’m going to do my best not to talk too much about the mobster just in case he suddenly decides I’m way too much hassle and things go belly up. He probably won’t because he thinks I’m amazing but give him a little time and he may begin to think I’m one big batch of crazy.

Nonetheless, I just want to say what a difference it makes being with someone who actually wants to be around you. CF may have said he wanted to be around me but really what he wanted was for me to fawn all over him and then to have sex with him and go away. Now granted, the mobster is more than 10 hours away so he does not have the pleasure of my delightful company 24/7 but he would like to. He tells me he wants to wake up with me, have coffee with me, experience the mundane things in life with me.

He likes talking to me and we still talk for hours every day. Sometimes we’ll talk once or twice in the morning, again at lunch, and then once or twice in the evening. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anyone as much as I talk to him.

We laugh. We laugh a lot. He’s very funny. One of my friends was making a crack about cousins getting together. She said something to the effect of, “Yeah, we’re cousins and our kids have eyes that cross and webbed feet.” Without missing a beat the mobster chimes in, “Yeah, but they’re fantastic swimmers!”

He doesn’t throw me under the bus. In fact, I feel like he stands up for me.  This is all new for his kids and they’re not sure they want anything to do with any of this. But he tells them, “I want you to meet her, get to know her. She makes me happy.”  He’s even said, flat out, that if they’re going to meet their mom’s boyfriend and accept him then they better accept me because I’m not the one that wrecked their home. I love the fact that he’s willing to point that out. And he doesn’t do it in a shitty way (I’m assuming. I’m not there but he does tell me about it.). He’s just matter-of-fact about it: Sam didn’t come in and wreck your home; she came along afterwards and she makes me happy. He’s even said he refuses to give me up.

What did CF do? He took every chance he had to throw me under the bus and portray me as the bad guy. Oh, she hates me! She says horrible things about me. She wants me to die! When it was brought to his attention that his mom and stepdad complimenting the whore all the time hurt me I was met with, “I can’t control what other people say!”

The mobster defends me. When anyone questions why I don’t drive to see him or wonders about any of my deal breakers he defends me. He doesn’t sit back and agree with them and let them know they are absolutely correct that I’m an evil, awful person who is living to make his life miserable. In fact, he’s told me he feels it’s his job as the male to do the driving and come see me. His schedule is definitely more flexible but I try to meet in the middle.

CF and I had been married for 5 years before Rock Star was born. After her birth life got very complicated for me. I was trying to work full-time, take care of her full-time, tend to our pets, clean the house, do the laundry, and keep up with the grocery shopping and cooking all while my dear husband was on the road. I was burning the candle at both ends. I was perpetually exhausted and I had a baby that was definitely high needs. I would call my mom to vent and I remember her being so pissed off at CF because, as she put it, “Can he not hear it in your voice that you’re about to jump off a roof?”

Well, no, he couldn’t. It didn’t involve him. He wasn’t the victim so it wasn’t a story he was interested in hearing. Remember: me getting up every. single. night with an infant was exactly the same as him being awakened by an alarm one. single. night! Me going crazy, trying to juggle everything with him gone, was exactly the same as him missing us.

I contrast that with me telling the mobster that there are few things sexier than a man who is a great father to his kids. And he is. But after I said that I realized how much I had failed my own kids by picking the guy I picked to be their father. The most important job you have as a mom is picking a good father for your children and I failed at that. I started to feel a little teary eyed, regretting that my kids would never know what it’s like to have an involved, loving father. I didn’t want to start bawling there in front of him so I just got quiet and stopped talking. Within a matter of a minute or two he asks me, “You okay, sweetie?”

Color me shocked! That’s not a question you would have ever heard CF ask me. I don’t think he would have even noticed. But the mobster did. He noticed within a minute or so.

Here’s another little story for you. When the mobster and I first began talking he told me that he uses Facebook Messenger to text message so my profile picture, which was a picture of my dog, came up all the time. This in turn led to him checking out my Facebook page (nothing to see there; move along! Really- it’s private so the only thing non friends can see are my profile and cover pictures.) and me letting him send me a Facebook friend request. I must have pointed out a picture of CF and me because I remember telling him that while I looked adorable CF looked less than thrilled to be with me. At that point I remember telling him, “If I ever date again any guy I’m with had better look happier than a pig in a shit to be with me.” Well you know what? The mobster does look thrilled to be seen with me. He actually takes pictures! He’s smiling in them! I have inside knowledge that he has made a collage of our pictures and he brings my picture along with him while he works. Twenty years and I don’t think CF ever had a picture of me in his office.

Guess what else? He holds my hand in public. All. the. time. Even when <gasp> other people are around! He’ll put his arm around me. He likes being seen with me. He wants everyone to know I’m with him.

Early on I remember the mobster telling me he would love to walk into that courtroom with me. He actually wanted to be there to support me. Me- a person he barely knew. He reiterated that point a few weeks later, telling me I deserved to have someone there to emotionally support me. And before anyone starts going nuts I have repeatedly told him that’s a bad idea. Lesson #1: Do not bring a date to divorce court. It looks bad. He agrees with me and will stay away but he wants to be there. Do you hear that? Wants to be there.

This guy I’ve only just met wants to be by my side to support me during my divorce trial. My husband couldn’t be bothered to leave work and be with me when I had to choose between surgery or the shot for my ectopic pregnancy. In other words, while I was terminating the life of our child he couldn’t pull himself away to support me.

He asked me one time if I really drove all the way to a baseball game and then turned around and drove home without ever seeing the game because I couldn’t find parking. I assured him that yes, yes I did. I was in bumper to bumper traffic with CF laying all over me and groping me; I couldn’t find parking. CF was no help and I was freaking out. Of course when I threw in the towel CF readily agreed. Let’s go home!

The mobster told me that if he had been with me he would have told me to pull over so that he could drive. Wow! He would actually help me when I’m freaking out and having a meltdown. I have no clue what that’s like.

He does pull me out of my shell. The second time we met up we went canoeing. Can you imagine CF getting out on the water in a canoe? It would never happen. Funnily enough, I was the one who actually suggested the activity and then I began thinking better of it. The mobster was the one who was all, “Oh no! We’re going to do this!” Now granted, one of the last things I said to him before agreeing to this was, “Don’t make my children orphans.” And he did almost kill me pretty much immediately. Damn near decapitated me! Ran me into a river bank and up under a tree. Thank God I have cat-like reflexes and the ability to bend backwards!

He greets me every day with, “Hi cutie,” or “Hi sweetie,” or “Hello beautiful/gorgeous.” He tells me I look wonderful. But most importantly he likes being with me. He looks forward to talking to me, texting me. He wants to do things with me.

Granted, CF didn’t start out spending all of his time in his bedroom. We used to spend all of our time together, especially when we both worked second shift and when we didn’t know anyone else after moving. Barricading himself in the bedroom or down in the basement happened over the years. But I can’t see the mobster deciding he’d rather watch TV alone in the bedroom than spending time with me. He’d probably have me in a kayak somewhere, fighting off sharks, thinking we were having a great time!

Another difference? It was like pulling teeth to get CF to interact with my family most of the time. The mobster wanted to meet my mom for coffee by himself when she was in his state. He explained it like this: I want to be a part of your life. Your mom is a big part of your life so I want to meet her. He told me he wants to be involved in my kids’ lives. Hell, he offered to buy cookies from my daughter for her fundraiser. He’s shown more interest in Picasso and Rock Star in the few weeks he’s known me than their own father has in the last two years.

Finally, the mobster hates the fact that I have to get up early and go to work most days; he told me this early on when we first began talking- like after the first week. He’d really rather I quit my second job because he hates what I have to do. But he also tells me often he’s so amazed by me and all that I’ve done to provide for my kids. He is proud of me. So look at that! He is concerned, amazed, and proud. CF? CF doesn’t give a crap about what I have to do to provide for his kids. Out of sight, out of mind. There are no expenses involved with raising his children.

The mobster says the sweetest things and his actions have backed them up. That’s the important part. The actions. Anyone can say anything. Actually following through is a whole different beast. So far, the mobster has.