Frankly My Dear, I Don’t Give a Damn

A little while ago I wrote about my feelings of cognitive dissonance and how I felt like a huge hypocrite. I’m pretty much over that now.

It was shortly after writing that Chump Lady published a letter from a woman who was divorcing her lying, cheating husband. He had cheated many, many times throughout their marriage. The final straw was when she got a call from yet another OW while she was grieving the loss of her pregnancy. She packed her bags and moved away from the area, away from him, and was starting a cheater-free life. After a year of being a hermit (and almost 2 years after her final DDay) she had met someone, they clicked, and ultimately, she ended up pregnant. While there were a few people who tsk tsk’d the fact that she was still legally married and wanted to throw out the ol’, “You’re no better than your cheating husband; you’re cheating on him, too!” most people were incredibly kind and supportive. Some of the things that I read that really stuck with me were the following comments:

It is true that in many states (including mine), having sex with someone before you are legally divorced counts as infidelity. But my state also bans the Encyclopedia Britannica because it contains a recipe for making beer at home. So let’s take laws at face value.

The bigger issue is whether it is morally acceptable to have physical intimacy with someone before one is divorced. As long as the divorce is underway, the two people are living separately, and are not taking actions to reconcile (e.g., in active marriage counseling), that marriage is over, and both people are free to date IMHO.

Many of these narcs drag out divorce for YEARS, even after having wasted decades of our lives. Should chumps chastely sit home waiting for the cheater to FINALLY disclose his or her financials? Or hire a third lawyer because his/her first two lawyers grew weary of the delays and obfuscation? I know a man who, even after settlement obtained in an early October court trial, was not divorced by late December because the STBX refused to sign the decree to which she and her lawyer had approved months earlier. He had been out of the house and NC for 1.5 years.

Chumps waste a lot of time before gaining a new life out of concern for the cheater, whilst the cheater wasted no time boinking strange after the wedding vows. It behooves us not to rush into a relationship before our grief has ended, but I don’t think we should stall our lives again, nor allow the post-filing manipulations of cheaters to continue to control us.

 

And if the divorce takes 3 years, do you watch your life go by and live virtuously alone? What if you do actually want children (I understand this pregnancy was unplanned)? Must you wait until the courts say it’s okay, no matter how long that takes and no matter how obstructive your ex may choose to be?

 

Why allow this cheater and his manipulations to cause any more lasting damage? Why does the pace of a divorce, which he can control, allow him to keep her from ever having a child? Hell to the no!

To my mind, when there are no secrets, there is no obligation. It is all aboveboard. Cheater does NOT get to determine her life choices for one more nanosecond! The minute he broke his vows, he released her from the terms of her sentence.

All those comments boiled down to one theme: Why let the cheater waste one more minute of your life?

I spent a good 10 months wanting to die, thinking that life was never going to get any better. I was alone for almost 2 years after DDay and when I did find someone it wasn’t because I was out actively looking. My legally wedded husband had been living with another woman in another state approximately six hours away for well over a year before I met the mobster. When he lost his job and destroyed our lives I knew nothing about what was going on; Harley, however, was in the loop, playing the dutiful fiancee. The legal wife sat at home, stunned and wondering what the hell was going on.

That doesn’t even touch on Virginia’s archaic divorce laws which basically say you must be physically separated for a year and a day before you can file for divorce, but my “husband” is legally allowed to cut me off financially. He was allowed to buy an engagement ring for the whore and puppies for her kids and blow all kinds of marital assets on his cunt face cum dumpster because hey, we’re living physically separate lives. But, don’t have sex with anyone else if you want spousal support. And, as the mobster has experienced, if the cheating spouse wants to come on inside your house, the one they abandoned, and grab a few things or just look around, they can still claim marital assets and marital residence.

Prior to DDay I had spent many years with a man who was never happy. He was drinking more and more. I really believe that Blockhead telling him about my Facebook page was what sent him spiraling out of control. He couldn’t go anywhere with us. He cried constantly. He wanted to shut himself upstairs in the bedroom. It was horrible. Even before then he rarely did things with us.

The kids and I vacationed without him; we went on outings without him. I handled the day to day care of them pretty much without him. We didn’t do date nights. After all, as he asked me once when I suggested it, “Why would you want to do that with me?” We spent very little time together.

I am completely good when it comes to my decision to date before I was legally divorced. I didn’t rush it. I didn’t look for it. I certainly didn’t lie to and deceive CF in order to do so. Once again I will point out that he lived in another state hundreds of miles away with another woman.

I am also good with my decision to date the mobster even though he is still legally married. I read his blog. I know it was over. I know he filed for divorce before we ever knew the other existed. He filed because he was done. Period. Not because I was sitting there, batting my eyes at him. Not because he thought the grass would be greener over here with me. No, he didn’t know me. He was done because he could no longer tolerate her behavior.

I don’t believe I would have ever agreed to text if he had still been living with her. I’m not sure I would have agreed to it if he hadn’t already taken steps to end the marriage.

I don’t shout it from the rooftops that he’s married, but I also don’t feel I’m doing anything wrong. He wasn’t (and isn’t) sneaking around behind her back. He wasn’t lying to her or siphoning off marital funds to give to me. She, like my husband, had moved out of their home and in with her boyfriend. There was no marriage left to preserve.

As the commenters from Chump Lady ask: How much more of our lives are we supposed to allow them to waste? Why are we expected to uphold vows that mean nothing to them? Why are we supposed to sit on the sidelines, alone and broken hearted, while they run around with their new plaything, safe in the knowledge that we’re chastely waiting for them to return to the ruins of our marriage? Why are we expected to handle the day to day running of life and pick up the pieces of all the lives the cheater has ruined, alone, halo all shiny and straight, while the cheater makes a new life with someone else? Are we masochists? Martyrs?

I know there are people out there for whom it is extremely important to be able to say they didn’t date until the ink was dry on the divorce decree. Good for you. I used to be one of you. I also know there are people out there who would criticize people who did wait but began dating immediately after the divorce was granted, because hey, you didn’t wait long enough. Why aren’t you mourning? Why aren’t you concentrating on something else besides dating? There are definitely people out there who would get the vapors at the thought of someone dating a person who was not yet divorced. Where is your decency? Do you not value the sanctity of marriage? Furthermore, I have no doubt that CF and all those who run with him are calling me all sorts of names and convincing themselves that what I’m doing is no different than what he and Harley did. Eh- I’m over it. I really don’t care. I know the truth.

I don’t need a shiny halo either. After reading so many stories for years and years I’m beginning to think that the only thing keeping your halo shiny does is make you feel good about yourself. It doesn’t lend itself to a better outcome. Usually you end up putting up with copious amounts of shit while the cheater merrily skips along his or her cheating way, leaving a wake of destruction behind. But you can pat yourself on the back and tell yourself that you did things the right way. Turns out, I don’t need an untarnished halo to feel good about myself.

Much like I get no personal satisfaction from putting chairs together, or doing yard work, I also don’t get a great sense of satisfaction from being able to say, “I followed the rules precisely at all times.” That’s actually pretty funny considering the fact that if you asked anyone who knows me well they would tell you that I am a rule follower.

Years ago I would have said you shouldn’t date until you’re divorced. Of course, it’s one thing to make life rules for yourself when you think you’ll never be in that situation. You can safely judge from the sidelines. Honestly, had my divorce not taken more than two years I wouldn’t have dated before I got divorced. Unfortunately, little things like being forced to move out of my house and sell off all of my stuff (or leave it behind), finding out my husband was in the psych ward again (or so I thought), being forced to get a job and then two jobs, working 16 hour days and 20+ days at a stretch, feeling like a horrible mom because I wasn’t around for my kids anymore, wondering every day if he was going to get away with everything, having to procure an expert witness because my husband was claiming PTSD to get out of paying sufficient child and spousal support, paying out the ass for lawyer fees, and dreading every day I woke up, ended up taking precedence.

I lived in a state that required me to be separated from him for a year. Two months before I could file he went off the deep end and lost his job. I had no idea what kind of a settlement I could expect when he wasn’t even working. Truthfully, I think him getting a job and still not paying his modified amount of support for more than six months ultimately ended up working in my favor. I would have just been seen as a horrible, unsympathetic bitch if I had taken him to court when he had just lost his job and been hospitalized. I thought he was back in the psych ward. I thought he had had a nervous breakdown or could make an excellent case for PTSD because of his latest hospital stay. I wouldn’t find out for six months that he wasn’t suicidal or that it had nothing to do with PTSD. Only when I took him back to court for a show-cause hearing did I find out the truth- that he had been repeatedly drinking on the job and he had been forced to resign. And he had not entered a psych ward; he had gone to the VA and done a mere three day in-patient program. The rest of his time was spent in outpatient therapy and he didn’t even always attend those.

The mobster can say pretty much the same. He forgave her for her previous affair. He endured years and years of her drinking and lying about it. He put up with a lot of shit in order to keep his marriage intact and to give his kids a home with two parents. He suffered through a lot of humiliation in order to keep her happy and to make things work. Finally, she took up with yet another affair partner and eventually left him for that guy. But not before she introduced him as “a friend”. Not before the guy invited him up to join their volunteer firefighter department. Not before the guy gave the mobster’s daughter a ride on his motorcycle. Not before he got to watch his wife ride on the big, shiny firetruck with her “friend” in the Christmas parade. Not before she disappeared for days at a time. The mindfuck was strong with that one.

She made her decision and she doesn’t get to whine about him getting on with his own life. He is not an indentured servant. He does not have to sit faithfully waiting for her to return.

There has been a moment or two where I started to really feel like I was interfering and that if I wasn’t in the picture maybe they would reconcile. It wasn’t often and it’s non-existent now, but when those moments would come he would tell me pretty much the same thing: I am never going back to her. If you left me tomorrow I still wouldn’t go back to her. I am done with her. She is crazy. She is toxic.

He also reiterates that his kids don’t want them together. His oldest son told him when it first happened, “Dad, it’s been over for a long time. You just finally called it.”

Finally, he is very wise. The last time I brought it up he pointed out that despite what she says when she hoovers around, it doesn’t mean anything to her. If she really wanted him back she would take steps towards that, steps like ending it with the other man. Instead it is all talk and absolutely no follow through. She will tell him she will call him the next day, and she doesn’t. She will say she wants to talk but she won’t follow through. She tells him she misses his voice and yet, she’s still with her lover. She’s never made an actual move to go back to him. She merely dips the hook in the water to see if he will still take the bait. If he ever called her bluff and said, “Oh my God yes! I’m still crazy about you! I realize now how much I miss you and I will do anything to make it work!” she would have endless excuses for why now wasn’t the right time and why she couldn’t extricate herself from her relationship with her boyfriend in order to rekindle her relationship with her husband. She doesn’t want him; she just wants him to want her. She wants to keep her Plan B around in case the new boyfriend doesn’t work out.

He, too, lives in a state that requires a one year waiting period. Unlike me, he tried to do an online divorce and get things rolling (again- before we ever met). She refused to sign the papers. She refused to tell him what she wanted. She refused to discuss the divorce with him. Unfortunately for him, the online lawyer he hired only did uncontested divorces, so if she wouldn’t cooperate nothing would happen.

Approximately four months ago she informed him that she had a lawyer and she would be serving him with a divorce petition. They’ve never arrived. Around that same time she made a big show of calling him and yelling at him, telling him she wanted the house she had deserted, and custody of their daughter, a child she abandoned. Nothing has happened since except her continuing to come inside his house and randomly grab things. Sometimes those things were dishes or sentimental items. Another time she came in just to take a light plate. Other times she has taken things like the TV he bought his daughter for Easter. Yep, she took it right out of her kid’s room, and then had the audacity to say, “Did you see me take it? Did you see me walk out of the house with it?” That same day she took the blender he bought after she had already taken the one that was bought while they were married. Also found in her possession? Her son’s baseball mitt.

I can understand those who might think I wouldn’t want to involve myself in the middle of all that crazy, but I don’t understand people thinking that he needs to be faithful to that kind of crazy. She’s a horrible, despicable person. She steals from her own children. There is nothing to work with here, and I don’t think he should be coerced into trying.

With all that said I still think there are situations where you shouldn’t date. If you’re leading your spouse to believe that there is a chance your marriage can be repaired, you shouldn’t be dating.  If you’re in marriage counseling you shouldn’t be dating. If you’re still living with your spouse, you shouldn’t be dating. When you’re telling your spouse you love him or her and you just need some time to think, you shouldn’t be dating. Basically, any time you’re going through anything even resembling reconciliation I would say you shouldn’t be dating. I would even say that in a situation where you want out and there’s no one else, but your spouse is desperate to repair the marriage, you shouldn’t date. You leave your spouse for another person? Well, “dating” is a foregone conclusion although you shouldn’t. But if you’re the one being cheated on? Honey, you do you!

If you don’t want to give your cheater the satisfaction of saying, “He/she is dating, too! See! I’m not doing anything wrong,” then by all means stay single. I think you can live a very satisfying life without being coupled up.

I, personally, don’t need that kind of validation. I’ve come to the conclusion it wouldn’t have mattered what I did in my situation. I would always be the bad guy. And really, I’d much rather he be pissed off because I’m seeing someone, than for him and Harley to be laughing about how pitiful I am, all alone while I work two jobs. He’s going to hate me regardless so let’s give him something worth hating. I find that to be much more satisfying.

Quite honestly I feel like all of the above is way too much explanation for what I’m feeling now. I’m good with what I’m doing. I’ve done nothing wrong. I didn’t lie and sneak around to be with the mobster; he didn’t lie and sneak around to be with me. I was married in name only; I can say the same thing about the mobster. I didn’t destroy their marriage; he didn’t destroy mine. Our spouses did that all on their own when they cheated on us and then left us to be with their affair partners. The only thing we’re guilty of is not letting them steal another minute of our lives. My conscience is clear.

Time Passes By

I went out to dinner with a cousin and her friends last week. One of them was a woman who hasn’t been out with us in a while. She remarked that I was doing so much better than the first time I went out to dinner with them.

Now, to be fair, that’s not entirely true. The first time I went out to dinner with them was when I was home over Christmas back in 2015. Yes, I had just found out my marriage was down the tubes and I had been cut off financially although he was paying what he thought he would owe in support. However, I had a tidy little nest egg set aside, my kids were happy, we were still living in our nice big house in Virginia, my kids’ lives hadn’t been completely torn apart by their cheating father, and life was going on quite pleasantly.

I think what she meant was that I was doing so much better than the first time we went out for dinner after I moved back home. Yes, that was a little rough.

I left my home. I left almost all of my possessions. My kids’ lives were completely upended. My daughter was miserable and heartbroken. I had no job, no money. My nest egg was entirely plundered in order to pay my bills.

I remember counting the months, because someone over on Chump Lady had recounted the story of how her friend had told her that even though everything seemed so bleak at that moment she would look back in six months and marvel over how far she had come. My amazing life didn’t come at the six month mark. If we’re talking since D-Day my amazing life didn’t come at the one year mark!

I had a divorce from hell that lingered on forever. Twenty-six months, three weeks, from D-Day until the divorce trial.Twenty-eight months, two weeks from D-Day until the actual divorce.

Six months after D-Day I was doing fine for the most part. I had plans. My kids were doing well. Life was okay. Different but okay.

Ten months to the day after D-Day and my life fell apart. My world shattered. My kids’ lives were shattered. I spent the next ten months trying to fight my way back. No, honestly, I spent the next ten months wanting to die and wishing that my life was over and I didn’t have to go on anymore because everything sucked.

A little more than a year ago I started my first full-time job in over 16 years. I was nervous. I didn’t know anybody. I was the new girl. Repeatedly.

Now I fit right in wherever I go. They love to see me. I even have a teller balancing dance for one of them.

Do you remember me crying that I couldn’t balance my drawer and that I was probably going to be fired so I may as well find a new job? Not long ago I found out that I got the new position I applied for. I’ll be working in a different department, behind the scenes basically. I’ll be working at the fraud desk. I’m actually really excited about it. It’s not a whole lot more money but I think I will like it a lot better. It sounds very interesting and it also sounds like I will be busy most of the day.

That’s the worst part of being a teller- being bored. Some days are fairly busy and the time flies by. But a lot of days are really slow and those days drag by. Plus I really don’t want to have to deal with customers.

The really nice thing about leaving though is how sad everyone else is. That sounds really egotistical, doesn’t it? I’ve had so many people tell me they hate seeing me go. I’ve heard how awesome I am at my job and how much people love working with me. It turns out I am fairly competent and many people request me. My manager hated to let me go; she tried to get my start date pushed back to 2019. She said she told them she wanted to tell them what an awful employee I was and that my attendance was terrible but she couldn’t. I’ve had numerous co-workers say, “Noooooo!” when they’ve heard I was leaving and they haven’t even worked with me in months! I guess it’s the realization that I won’t be around at all once I begin my new position.

Also nice? I will get my very own desk! I’m hoping I will be able to put pictures on it. I have never been able to display pictures of my kids because I’ve never had a job with a desk since having children.

I will also have a single place to go to work every day and I will have a phone number just for me.

Plus, I’m fighting fraud so how great is that?

As for the rest of my life? My kids are doing okay. Rock Star has struggled. She finds her footing and then struggles some more. Then finds her footing once again. She only has a few more months and then she graduates and it’s off to college. Where she will actually go is anyone’s guess. At one point she was adamant she wanted to go out to Utah for school. Now she’s worried she will be homesick because she won’t be able to come home more than 3 times a year. So she may actually end up going to an in-state school after all.

Picasso is having some issues with algebra II and biology. His biology teacher actually was my teacher my freshman year. He was not a young man when he taught me. Picasso finds him boring but also complains that he doesn’t teach everything that is on the test. Welcome to life, my child! Sometimes you have to take the initiative and actually read on your own. He hates gym. He has a girlfriend. It’s been going on for four months and he bought her stuff for Valentine’s Day. I’ve never met her.

My mobster is still amazing. How could I not love this man? He called my kids’ freaking school to inquire as to why on earth they hadn’t canceled classes in the wake of the shooting threats!

He calls me cutie and baby doll and beautiful and gorgeous. He makes me breakfast and sends me the best Valentine’s Day gifts. He even sends my daughter flowers to cheer her up.

I realized not long ago that he laughs at my jokes. I mean, I knew he laughed at my jokes. It just hit me when he was laughing at something I had said, that CF never really thought I was funny, I guess. He never laughed at anything I said. Actually I do remember two times when he laughed at something I said.

The first time was waaaaay back at the beginning of our marriage. We were watching Dean and Joann on one of those home repair shows. He had a level and was putting it against some insulation. I asked incredulously, “Are you trying to make sure it’s plumb, Dean?” I still don’t know what Dean was doing but CF thought that was pretty funny.

The second time was years later. He put on some dark sunglasses, think Arnold as the Terminator. I looked over at him and in my best Arnold impersonation said, “I’ll be back.” He smiled at that.

I don’t know what was wrong with him. I think I’m hilarious so I don’t know why he didn’t. Yet another shortcoming of his.

My mother, Thelma, is still running around in Florida. Her partner in crime, Louise, was with her in February. They went to New Orleans, Biloxi, and a whole lot of dinners up at the Elks Club. I’m glad she’s having a good time but I’ll also be glad to see her next month.

That’s my update. We’re still alive and kicking. Life is getting better bit by bit. I’m still not financially stable (I definitely depend on those support checks) but I’m hoping I’ll get there eventually.

My Mobster

Can I just tell everyone what a difference having someone like him in my life makes? It makes me a little sad, honestly, that I settled for so little for so many years. My biggest regret is that I met him when I was 48 instead of 18 or 25 or some other random number that would have given me many more years with him.

He texts me every morning. Good morning, beautiful. Hello, gorgeous. We still talk all the time. He’s usually the last person I talk to before I go to bed. I tell him every mundane thing that is going on in my life.

He drove 10.5 hours up to see me 2 weeks after “meeting” me. He’s made that trip 3 times now.

He sends me song lyrics that remind him of me or us. He even created a private Pinterest board for the two of us. We always joke that we are the exact same person. Seems only fair since our exes are the exact same person as well!

He thinks I’m funny and laughs at my jokes. We’ll be talking late into the night and all of sudden he’ll say, “Holy crap! When did it become 12:30?” and I’ll reply, “About a minute ago.” And then we both laugh and laugh. I’ve heard through the grapevine that we are exactly alike. We laugh at the same jokes, we have the same sense of humor. We think about the same weird things. It’s wonderful.

Towards the end of September I made the impulsive decision to go visit him at his place. I hadn’t seen him since Labor Day weekend and I missed him like crazy. Originally all of his kids were going to be gone- his two boys would be watching three MLB games in another state and his daughter was going to the beach with one of her friends. There was a small hiccup in the plans and his daughter ended up not going to the beach but I went ahead and headed on down to his place.

One night as we were talking he rustled some papers and asked me if I knew what they were. Of course I didn’t. He told me I would soon find out.

As I pull into his driveway at 4 am this is what I saw…

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As I walked up to his house I saw this…
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And as the weekend progressed I found out he had printed out my list of 100 things I love and had bought as many of them as he could. That was what those rustling papers were. There was chips & salsa, Moscato, diet Coke, dill pickles, vanilla chai, Earl Grey tea, and cheesecake for starters. He told me he was hoping that it would rain because the smell in the air after it rained in the Blue Ridge mountains was one of the things I loved. I told him I had no doubt that if he had the ability to make it rain that he would.

I was absolutely amazed. I can’t recall anyone ever doing anything like that for me before. I appreciated it so much.

We had a great weekend. Saturday evening we went out to eat with his youngest. I was telling some really bad jokes (you can find most of them here) and she was laughing. We were both ribbing him about ordering coffee at the restaurant. He told me later he loved that. He thought he’d never experience that again and he loved the way we interacted with each other. Sunday morning before going to breakfast we took the dogs for a walk. He showed me around town and we were out walking for probably an hour. I left them with taco dip and scotcheroos, which they loved.

It was a very short visit- only about 36 hours, but it was definitely worth it. I had to get my mobster fix!

I’m telling you a good man makes all the difference in the world. I think he’s a keeper. No, I know he’s a keeper.

I’ve wondered many times if I could give him what he wants. I know he’d love to get married. He wants to live with me. And yet I am constrained by spousal support. I feel bad that I can’t move ahead like he’d like because I need whatever spousal support is coming my way. I have to think about my kids and what they’re going to need. He’s said many times he knew what he was getting into when he got involved with me. He says he knows it may be 20 years before we can make anything official. He’s said on more than one occasion that it’s okay if we never legally marry. Or if we do marry he’s willing to do a prenup so that I’m protected.

He’s put up with my crazy. He’s been sympathetic to my skittish behavior. He understands and he lets me be me. If I’m upset or I’m angry he doesn’t take it as a personal insult.

He is making plans to move up here in June of 2019.

Why didn’t I meet and marry this guy the first time around? Would we have appreciated each other as much as we do if we hadn’t endured what we did? I’d like to think we are who we are, not because of the horror that was foisted upon us, but because we are good people. I’d like to think that if we had met up many years ago it would have still been magical and wonderful. Regardless, I’m glad he’s in my life now, even if it is only sporadically. We are the sane parents after all.

I trust this guy. I know; I know. I trusted CF, too. This is different. I had no reason to trust CF. I guess maybe hearing his friend tell me he would never cheat, or listening to Tammy Faye tell me all he wanted was a family, or looking at his golden pedigree and his West Point credentials made me think I could trust him. None of it meant squat. He lied. He cheated. He stole. He abandoned his kids.

The mobster has been through this. From his own lips and his own writings I have heard the horror that was his marriage in the last few years. I’ve heard and read about the lies, the despair, all the tears, the pain he was put through. I also heard and read about how he hung in there, trying to make it work, convinced that they could make their marriage work if he just tried hard enough, if he could just change enough to make her happy. He did his best to ensure his kids grew up in an intact home.

He and his wife went on a blind date and basically never left each other’s side. He did consider calling it quits but she got pregnant and they married. CF and I met through the personals, got engaged 6 days later and got married 7 months later. By all accounts neither of those relationships should have lasted. And yet they did. For 25 and 21 years. The mobster has said on more than one occasion that our marriages would have continued to last if our spouses had been willing. We didn’t leave. We didn’t quit. He has been known to say, “Why in the hell didn’t I leave 12 years ago?”

Make no mistake though. He will freely admit that there were things he could have done better, or that at least there were better ways to handle the situation. He talks about his own bad behavior in retaliation to the things she did and he admits his own faults. He has told me the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I have reasons to believe him. Not just the above paragraph but also the willingness to meet me where I am. The willingness to forego ever getting married again even though he really would love to. He doesn’t quit. I’ve heard about all that he did to try to make his marriage work and I have no reason to believe that if he worked that hard to preserve a relationship with someone who treated him so badly that he wouldn’t work equally as hard, if not more so, at a relationship with someone who adores him.

You know what? Add that to the list. When I am going to write a post about something in his life I will run it past him. I never want to put stuff out there that he doesn’t want shared. You know what he always tells me? He always says I can write whatever I want. He tells me it’s my blog and I don’t need his permission, even when I’m writing about him or things going on in his life.

I look back on some of my earlier entries where I was convinced I would be alone forever. I really did believe that. And my mindset hasn’t changed all that much. This guy came from out of nowhere and swept me off my feet. If it all ends tomorrow I don’t see myself getting involved with anyone again. I wasn’t looking this time and I don’t intend to look if he should ever leave me. I’m okay being alone. I really am. The mobster brings me out of my shell. He ticks off pretty much every box on my list for the ultimate man. I can’t think of one criteria he doesn’t meet. I’m glad I have someone to spend my time with. I’m glad I have a real partner.

Here’s one final story for you. When I was steeling myself for the worst case scenario in my support trial the mobster would ask me, “Sam, are we going to be happy?” I’m being my petulant self and grudgingly replying, “Yes, we’ll be happy but I’m still going to be pissed!” He goes off on this tangent about how we will be happy no matter what, even if we’re begging on the streets.

We’ll be out on the streets with our little tin cups. And once they’re filled I’ll run and get us coffee. Do you hear that? I’ll go get us coffee because I love you. When I come back you’ll be waiting for me in our cardboard box, and it will be the best cardboard box out there. And we will be happy with our coffee in our cardboard box.

There was more to the story. Apparently, that was our second home because I had burned the first one down. Sounds about right. Anyway, I was laughing so hard I really did feel better about everything. That man makes me laugh. Like, really laugh. He makes me insanely happy.

Thank you, Mobster; thank you for being you. Thank you for being there for me, even when I’ve been crazy, even when I’ve hurt you, even when I’ve been a pouting little brat. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for making me smile again. Thank you for waking me up and thank you for believing in me. You have given me things I didn’t even know I wanted. I love you. 4evah!