It’s For the Best

There are few phrases coming out of cheater’s and their enabler’s mouths that I hate more than that one. It’s for the best. It all worked out. They’re both much happier now. They have more compatible partners. It was a blessing in disguise.

Fuck that! You know what? I am happier. The mobster is a much better match for me. He makes me happier than CF ever did. I am ecstatic that I no longer have to deal with his never ending list of issues or his constant unhappiness that can never be satisfied. I am glad I’m closer to family. I have realized how incredibly strong I am. My kids are thriving.

Those are all things that happened in spite of what he did to us!

He didn’t have an affair to make me happy. He didn’t have an affair so that I could see how strong I was. He didn’t have an affair so that his kids could be resilient. He didn’t have an affair to “free me from my burden of being his wife” or so that I could meet the love of my life. He didn’t have an affair so that I could move closer to family and the kids could be around their cousins. No, he had an affair because he wanted to. Because Harley the Whore was available and eager to spend our marital assets in exchange for her services. The only person he was thinking of was himself. He didn’t give a shit about our happiness. It was all about his happiness.

He never once considered us or what his selfish choices would do to our lives. So no, he doesn’t get to say it all turned out for the best. None of his sniveling enablers get to say it either. My kids and I, we found happiness and we thrived despite what CF and Harley did to us. I can assure everyone reading this that we were not even a blip on his radar when he made the decision to resume his affair with Harley.

That’s the sad reality with cheaters and their enablers. If they can point to the end result and proclaim everyone “so much better off” then they don’t have to consider all the horrible things that were done. They can ignore all of that.

“Oh, you were forced to move out of your home, forced to move out of the state, and had to tear your lives apart once again? La la la la la la la… I can’t hear you! All I see is happy kids and a happy ex-wife. (Of course, the most important factor is that CF and Harley are happy.) Nothing to see here, folks. Just rainbows and unicorns. All is well.”

Yes, I’m sure John Walsh is thanking his lucky stars that his precious sweet Adam was kidnapped and murdered. After all, it led to such a lucrative television career. When a child is missing in a store and they lock it down it’s now referred to as a Code Adam. How great is that? An ode to his child that never would have happened had a child predator kept his disgusting hands off that innocent six year old child. It all worked out in the end, right?

Bullshit!

I’ll go one step further. None of them- CF, Harley, Jezebel, Tammy Faye, Pastor Fake- care whether or not we’re happy. The only ones who matter are CF and Harley. I would venture to guess that they would actually prefer I be miserable, seeing as how I made poor pitiful CF so unhappy. I was such a horrible wife and person I deserve to live steeped in unending misery. The fact that any of us are happy only serves to assuage whatever tiny sliver of shame they may feel. Hell, probably not even that because I don’t think those people have a conscience. No conscience= no guilt, no shame.

So yeah, I’m finally happy. I’m not where I want to be yet but I’m on a path. I crawled through the bowels of Hell to get to this point. Almost two freaking years after finding out my husband is a lying, cheating, backstabbing, disrespecting piece of crap who uprooted me and my kids for a piece of gold digging, jailbird ass. I cried more tears in these last two years than I’ve cried in the rest of my entire life. I was completely broken. I lost almost everything. So many times I wanted to lay down and die. I kept going for my kids. That was the only reason because I sure as hell didn’t see a future for me. I dug myself out of this living grave, bit by bit. So when he or one of his cheater apologists want to tell everyone it truly was for the best and we’re both so much happier with our new partners (see Sam, he did you a favor!) I want to take a sledge hammer and smash their faces.

We’re all happy despite your cheating son/brother. My daughter was miserable for months. I went to Hell and back. We emerged from our misery; we fought back and we prevailed. Cheater Boy never had one moment of discomfort. He never had to comfort crying or disappointed kids. He never had to look them in the eye and answer their questions. He never had to watch as their lives as they knew them completely disappeared. He wasn’t around for the goodbyes. He wasn’t around for any of it. He chose a whore and her kids over his family. He was busy playing family with them so he didn’t have to deal with any of the fallout of his cheating. He went from the comfort of his former home, his wife, and his kids directly into a new home that he shared with Harley and her kids. When he left our home he chose to go; he wasn’t forced out, unlike us. He shed his old life like a snake sheds its skin. Out with the old; in with the new. There was no loneliness. He wasn’t discarded. He didn’t have to wonder if he was so hideous and unlovable that he would be alone forever. He didn’t have to wonder what would happen to him or his kids. He didn’t wonder what some other man had that he didn’t, didn’t have to wonder what made me turn to someone else. He never had to doubt his worth. He never had to wonder how he was going to support himself after fifteen plus years out of the workforce.

No! He cut me off financially, threw over $30,000 Harley’s way (while she cheated on him!), lived like a child free bachelor, used our home as an extended stay hotel, let me pay all the household expenses while he used the remaining money to play Sugar Daddy to the whore and her hooligans, sauntered off every weekend to fuck his whore, and created a brand new life that didn’t include his wife of 20 years or his teenage children.

To this day he refuses to do the right thing. He only paid his back support under court order and the threat of having to pay me an extra $10,000. He made one additional full support payment back in April. Since then he’s done nothing but play games. He hasn’t paid the equivalent of even one month of support.

I can assure you that any positives that have occurred since the napalming of our lives has been an oversight by CF. I’m fairly certain he wanted to destroy me. I sure as hell know he didn’t give one flying fuck about my happiness or his kids’ happiness.

Happiness was achieved in spite of him and Harley, not because their affair was some divining rod that brought bountiful blessings. So neither he nor anyone in his fucked up family get to say it was all for the best, or that it all worked out. I can say it. My kids can say it. He never gets to say it. He didn’t do what he did to make us happy. He only cared about himself and the whore.

CF, you and your entire family and fucked up friends can all take your chipper, “It’s for the best!” and shove it up your ass.

The Name Game

Am I the only one who hates this new trend of using people’s names during business transactions?

My employer loves using the customer’s name. I hate it. I feel it’s pretentious . How do I know if Matthew Smith wants to be called Matthew or Matt? Or maybe he goes by his middle name, James, and no one ever calls him a variation of Matthew except people instructed to use the customer’s name.

I’ve actually had people tell that. “I always know I’m at a bank when someone calls me Mary. No one else ever calls me that. Everyone calls me Sophie.”

Generally, if they’re older I’ll just use their last name, but I don’t like that either.

Don’t even get me started on fast food places taking your name! I was fine with being Order #59. There is no need for them to know my name. Just give me my damn Whopper and let’s move on!

I have a confession to make. I lie 99% of the time when they ask for a name. Well, technically, it’s not a lie. They ask for a name for the order. They don’t ask me for my name. So I’ve been Holly, Molly, and Jackie.

I really need to stick with one, though; otherwise I get tripped up when someone is calling out, “Molly, your order is read.” I’m sitting back, reading my book, thinking, “Geesh, Molly, where the hell are you? They’ve been calling your name for 5 minutes now and the store isn’t that big! You’d better get your order; that shit’s getting cold.” Then I realize I’m Molly. Oops!

Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great when you have a real relationship with your customers and call them by name. If I ate at the same restaurant, banked at the same bank, or shopped at the same stores on a regular basis for years then sure- by all means ask me about myself and feel free to use my name. Using names before that relationship has had time to build is just forcing it and I don’t like it. I’m perfectly fine being simply a customer.

An Ending of Sorts

Today was my last day at Target. It was sort of bittersweet. On one hand I am so overjoyed at the thought of actually having weekends off and no longer needing to set my alarm for 3:20 am. On the other hand this is the first outside job I was offered in 18 years.

Sure, they probably aren’t that picky when it comes to hiring people. It was Christmas time. I have good hygiene. I’m somewhat articulate and educated. It’s not like they were hiring a district manager or anything. They hired me to stock shelves.

Nonetheless I am grateful to them for giving me a chance. When no one else would hire me… when I was at my lowest point… they hired me and gave me a chance to at least pay my bills.

It also felt good having so many people wish me well and tell me they were sad I was leaving. I know I was just unloading a truck and stocking shelves but people appreciated the fact that I showed up and was a hard worker. They wanted me to stay and were disappointed I was leaving.

I’m thankful, too, because Target is where I met one of my first new friends, someone who had gone through infidelity and divorce herself. We compared stories. Spoiler alert: She declared me the winner. She thought she had a shot at the Jerry Springer Freakshow award until she heard my story. She gets how incredibly hard this has been. As she told her daughter: My story is even keeled. It’s always stayed at one level. Sam started out at the top and ended up on the bottom. She lived in a $365,000 house and had just put a $57,000 pool in her backyard when her world collapsed. She’s been up and down and up and down. She’s still being jerked around by her STBX. This second job at Target gives me extra money that I can use to enjoy myself, pay for extras and spoil you and your brother. For Sam, this second job at Target helps her to buy food and necessities for her kids. Thank you for that. It’s nice when people get it.

We text occasionally outside of work and we frequently go to breakfast after work on the weekends. When I was looking for a second job she offered to get me hired on cleaning offices. She’s really sad I’m leaving but I know our friendship will last beyond the borders of the big red bullseye.

In other news, not quite as uplifting but a blessing nevertheless, I suppose… I received a letter from the high school letting me know my daughter is automatically waived onto the free lunches, breakfasts and textbooks because she receives Medicaid. So hooray for not having to pay fees. At the same time I’m extremely embarrassed to be needing state aid but trying to get over it.

The end!

Two Years Ago…

Oh Facebook, thanks for the memories. Two years ago today my beautiful pool was finally finished and filled with water. I put a picture of Rock Star and Picasso, standing in the pool with their arms around each other, up on Facebook to commemorate the occasion. It’s a bittersweet memory.

On one hand it’s just a thing. I didn’t have it long enough to really enjoy it. And most of the time my mind was racing and my stomach was in knots because of the way CF was acting. On the other hand I wanted a pool for a very long time. I was overjoyed at the realization that I would finally have a pool in my backyard after years and years of begging for one.

I lovingly helped design that pool. I had four pool jets put in, and a bench and steps. There were solar lights installed in the concrete which would illuminate the concrete at night. There were lights in the pool that could change color. It was gorgeous.

I looked forward to family and friends coming and hanging out around my pool. I imagined my kids having friends over all summer. I daydreamed about going skinny dipping in my pool late at night. I was so happy that I finally had my pool.

I spent almost an entire summer trying to be Zen about how long it was taking for my pool to be constructed. It was supposed to take 3 weeks. It ended up taking 10. The first day of construction we discovered the Call Before You Dig guy didn’t do his job and so the guy digging the hole ended up cutting through a power line. We had no electricity and what seemed like the entire power company over in my backyard to get things back on track. Then we encountered boulders that would end up costing another $11k to get removed so that we could have a 6 foot deep pool. That took another week or two. Then we had people go on vacation. The die maker exploded so they couldn’t pour the concrete when they were planning. It rained. Everything that could go wrong seemed to, and yet I was patient and kept telling myself that even though this was taking so much longer than planned that at least once it was finally in we would enjoy it for years and years.

HA! More like days.

Yet even that was a blessing. If it had been finished on time all that money would have been paid out to the contractor instead of being squirreled away in my account. The kids and I would have been financially destitute if that pool had been finished on time because there would have been nothing left over and he didn’t give a damn if we ate or not. That pool that took forever saved our lives. If I hadn’t had that money to live on after he betrayed us I don’t know what we would have done.

Fortunately for me, the mobster loves having a pool and misses his own pool that he had for 17 years. So… there may be another pool in my future. One with a much better ending attached to it.

Burying Your Head In the Sand & Other Bits & Pieces

March 2015

Another brief update from me. I ended up getting a pool loan for $20,000 and then he’s cashing in stock for the rest. Tomorrow we fly out to our former state for the state championships.  I’m looking forward to that.  My son won a pie because he could recite pi up to 61 digits.  My daughter broke up with her cute little boyfriend.  And Zack is still depressed.

I think he’s drinking once again.  I have told him that he just can’t do that anymore.  He can’t control it and then he ends up spiraling out of control.  He woke me up around 6 in the morning, crying, the other day, because he was having a bad day.  And I’m sure it was brought on by the alcohol.

I have yet to write my happy, grateful, moving forward post.  I’m getting there.  I spent most of last week plus the weekend cleaning the house and doing laundry.  Monday was spent finishing up.  Yesterday I was logging these entries into my spreadsheet.  I’m only up to the 1st entry in May.  Lots more to go.

I went to the after prom meeting last night.  I am now in charge of the subs.  Sub sandwiches, that is.  Maybe this will lead to more activity in the future.

Spring Break is next week.  My in-laws are supposedly coming the week after that.  Why on earth they’re coming when Zack is working and the kids are in school is beyond me.  But they are. I have no idea what we’ll end up doing. Actually, I do know why they’re coming then.  That’s when his home state’s spring break is.

So, that’s my life in a nutshell.  I’m trying to be more positive but it’s difficult when your husband is sliding down the abyss.  Trying to focus on the good.  Trying to be grateful.  But, that’s a post for another day. Or perhaps even later on today. 🙂

April 2015

Had dinner at the house with Blockhead last night.  I hung back for the most part so they could talk.  It went ok.  He hugged me hello and goodbye and gave me his number to contact him if CF got bad again.  When CF gets bad again.  It worked out ok and I hope it helped CF.

CF had mentioned Blockhead would love to take over as sales manager down here in Whoreville.  I’m pretty sure that would be my nightmare.  Maybe his wife has mellowed out but I’m still pretty soured on our last get together and have no desire to hang out with her on a regular basis.  I’m sure they would be getting together regularly, but maybe seeing each other at work all day would be enough for them.  God help me if I have to put on a happy face all the fucking time because now that CF has decided to socialize it’s with Blockhead and Blockhead’s wife. I will fucking kill myself before I do that.

He’s getting cluster headaches again and now he’s pissed because his boss wants him to come in today.  He was planning on staying home because he had already given himself 2 shots of Imitrex.

So, that’s where I am.  I want to write a letter to his mom (one that I won’t send, of course), detailing their affair since it seems there is a lot she doesn’t know.  I just want to outline it all. And, of course, there is still my looking ahead and being grateful post I’m supposed to write.  I’m not sure that’s ever going to get done.  I kinda feel like once I write it I should stop writing about him and Harley and my anger at the in-laws and all that, but I don’t know if that will ever completely go away.  I think it’s a whole other ball game when the in-laws are involved.

April 2015

Random facts.  #1- I did text CF the other night when he was with Blockhead.  Simply said I’m not in any hurry; you don’t have to come home any time soon.  I’m just wondering how long you’ll be out.  #2- My MIL created her FB account and friended Harley on December 10, 2013- my first wedding anniversary after finding out my husband had been fucking around with that whore all summer. #3- She (Harley) is once again not listed on The Saint’s list of friends. #4- I’m not sure if I mentioned this one or not but she has unblocked Rock Star so if I log on as her I can see any and everything Harley posts to my in-laws.  And she posts a lot to them.

I Had a Dream

Remember when I shared with you that I was once again dreaming, I just couldn’t remember the dreams? That’s changed.

I remember my dream from last night. Of course, it was more a nightmare but I suppose I’ll consider this more progress.

What did I dream about, you wonder? CF and Harley, of course! In my dream Rock Star tells me that her dad has been texting her and telling her that he and Harley are eager to get married. I’m thinking this is good because maybe he’ll settle with me so the divorce will be over and he can marry the whore. Rock Star goes on to tell me that they want both of my kids there and they are planning on getting married on or around our anniversary. I’m a little cloudy on that but I know it was definitely around the same time. Finally, she tells me that Harley has been texting her. At this point I’m furious and lose my shit, declaring that there is no way on God’s green earth that that bitch is going to be texting either of my kids!

And that’s pretty much when I woke up.

In other CF news I got yet another check for $555.55 from him. Way to go, CF! You’re only about $1500 behind now…. for a single month of payments.