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.