Thankfully the really awful years are behind me. I’m sure something new can come along and kick me in the ass but I don’t see myself completely broken and financially destitute again.
That’s what I wrote on January 1st. January 10th Matt, aka the mobster, dumped me. This week I got word that my dad is not doing well and is likely not going to make it through the weekend. I am heading back down to the hospital shortly.
So which bombshell would you like me to delve into first?
Let’s take my dad because that will be easier. First, I want to say upfront we were not close. He was not a great dad. He was a really good grandpa and I began to enjoy him more as I got older, but as a dad… eh. It is what it is. But he’s still my dad and I’m still feeling some sort of way about all of this.
He’s had Alzheimer’s for a while now. I’m not even really sure how long. Six years? Eight years? Maybe longer. My brother called me on Wednesday to say Dad was in the hospital with pneumonia, a partially collapsed lung, sepsis in the blood, and a urinary tract infection, plus he had lost his ability to swallow. We were planning on going to the hospital today, Saturday, but then my sister-in-law called on Thursday to tell me they were shutting off all fluids and that my brother and I needed to get down there.
Shelby had planned on going down on Friday so I called her as well. When I told her what was going on she said that wasn’t good at all and he didn’t have much time. She said she’d be surprised if he made it through the night, and then changed it to say 8 that evening.
So I left work and rushed down to the hospital. He lives two hours away so if we were talking only a matter of hours I might not be able to wait until my brother got off work.
It’s just as well because he stayed down there and I went back that night.
Yesterday he told me Dad’s vitals were looking great. Today he tells me his oxygen has dropped to 88 and once it drops to 85 he will begin to have a tougher time. I’m back on my way down there and will probably spend the night.
2023 is getting off on the same foot that 2020 did when the whole world went into lockdown. Matt dumps me. My dad is dying. Do I dare ask, “What next?”
Maybe you’re shocked by the announcement. Maybe you’re not. But I’m devastated.
I’m not financially destitute this time. I’m not sure about the completely broken part yet. As my mother tells me, “You’ve been through much worse.”
’Tis true. I’ve lost my home, my furniture, all of my belongings. Sadly, I missed my lifestyle a hell of a lot more than I missed my husband. He was a shitty partner for most of our marriage. I didn’t have years and years of memories with him because he didn’t care to engage with us. But with Matt I don’t have bad memories. We had great times together. We laughed and laughed. So many times when we were out together people would comment and tell us we were having too much fun together. The last time we were in Chillicothe, in fact, a woman at the gym came up to me after we were done running.
“I just have to tell you. You two are so cute together. I love it all- the fist bumps, the high fives, the selfies after the run. You two are relationship goals.”
Yeah, we are such relationship goals that he dumped me less than 2 months later.
That same weekend we were sitting at a bar in a restaurant, watching videos on YouTube, laughing our asses off. A group of four people later told us they were having the greatest time just watching us laugh.
This man bought me flowers. He printed off my list of 100 things about me and bought things off of it for me. He set up romantic moments for us. He buttered my biscuit. He cut my meat up for me one time because I asked him if he would. He rubbed my back and didn’t ask to quit after 60 seconds. He said my snoring didn’t bother him. He washed my shitty jeans out for me, for crying out loud! He called me by my name and laughed at my jokes. He told me I was beautiful, sexy, funny, amazing. He knew me. He could read me. He went places with me and brought me out of my shell. He met my family and my friends. He accompanied me to funerals and employee parties. He was my mobster, my lobster, my person. And he doesn’t want me anymore. When I thought this was still a discussion and we might be able to work this out I told him that I still loved him and asked him if he loved me too. Because if we love each other we can work through anything, right? Instead of hearing, “Yes, yes, I still love you, ” he told me he didn’t know where he was with that right now.
I adored this man. I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone before. I fear I’ll never love anyone as much ever again. I always told him he was the best thing that ever happened to me, that he was the smartest man in the world. We used to joke about who loved each other more. Guess I win, huh?
If I loved him that much, trusted him implicitly after what happened to me, and was willing to uproot myself, pay 3x what I do in housing costs, and move down to him and that wasn’t enough what ever will be? Why am I never enough?
If you were to ask him I’m sure he would say that no one was the bad guy. It simply didn’t work out. He would probably tell you that ultimately he felt that we had different definitions of what a future together meant. He might say he felt like we were nothing more than friends anymore. Maybe, if you gave him a little bit of wine, he might open up and tell you he feels like a bauble in my bracelet that has lost it’s shine. That he feels like I don’t see him. I’m always on my phone. I don’t want to assimilate into his life. I don’t like his friends.
I’m going to be breaking this up into more manageable pieces instead of one long block of doom. There’s a lot I want to say. I’m going to be doing a lot of emotional vomiting over the next few days so look away now if you can’t handle it or feel it’s too personal.
I’m going to leave now and drive down to a hospital so that I can go sit by my dying dad.
I always thought when this day came Matt would be with me. He’d be by my side. Because he was my person. He was my love. Instead I’m doing this all alone, just like I’ve always done. My brothers will have their wives. My daughter and nieces have their boyfriends/husbands. I guess I’ll stand in solidarity with my nephews and son because they are the only ones not paired up.
He fucking left me. I adored that man. I gave him everything I had. I trusted him with my heart. I was willing to date him as a married man forever because he will never divorce his wife since he doesn’t want to have to pay her out. I was willing to move down to him even though I knew that if I were having a heart attack or had been in a car accident and he was supposed to go out to dinner with his kids he’d continue on with his plans with his kids instead of rushing to be by my side. I was willing to support him in our old age. I loved him more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. Told him all the time he was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. And in the end he looked at me and said, “It’s not enough.” Or rather, “It doesn’t mean anything if it’s not backed up with actions.”
If my everything is not enough then where do I go from here?