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.

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.