One Week Long

We had some exciting new changes in our house this week. Taylor got her permit & a grown up bank account of her very own. She also is working as a hostess at my place, so I have had the privilege of seeing her many, many times even during the week that they weren't "mine". 

...and it appears that, as of tonight, I will have them ALL of the time. Things broke bad at their dad's house - really bad. His reaction? He packed them up and brought them to my house. And dumped them with all of their belongings on my front lawn. My kids look like little refugees with their confused faces and tear stains down their cheeks.

Fortunately for us all, I was in town. And sober. 

So here we all are - broken and sad and clinging to each other, mourning the way things used to be. 

I know that they need me to be very strong and be their safe place to land (and I will be!), but honestly, I am a wreck. I tried very hard this week to play and keep my mind off of missing D - but there just isn't enough alcohol in the world to make the pain stop. And the only way that I can keep my anxiety level at a manageable state is to call him and hear his voice (I am still working in his office, so there is a reason most of the time), but I can't keep doing that forever.  

I know that broken hearts heal and that we will both be just fine, but my body doesn't seem to understand that. And my brain is making up all sorts of fantastic stories about what he is doing now and who he is doing it with, blahblahblah.  And boy am I creative. Ugh. 


I think the most amazing thing is that I am a completely different person than I was one week and one day ago. 


God, please make week 2 turn me into a princess again, and send some extra magic for my children. 

They are also different people than they were a week ago...

Happiness is a Flotation Device

The Egger Fence
Originally uploaded by tielji

I have had a pool for the kids (I don't know why we call it Mommy's Pool) every summer since 2001. It's a ritual. Gathering up the kids for the Pool Gathering Expedition, hoping we aren't too late in the season to get the one we like the best (the kind that you just put water in and it rises by itself, but it's big enough to float two rafts in at the same time), reminding each other what toys we need to replace from last year, and of course, getting ice cream on the way home - it's the way we signify that summer is here.

The last couple of years were pretty rough on my Pool Time. (That's the time between 11 and 1 when I just float around and around and around on my green raft, doing nothing but listening to the neighborhood and daydreaming.) I was able to fit in a few weekend days...but not more than that. Workworkwork kept getting in the way. The kids enjoyed it, though, because mommy couldn't hog the water and ruin Pool Games.

This year it is a much different scenario. I work when it's NOT Pool Time. I tell you, it makes all the difference in being a Happy Terri...and not. Ha!

The only people not as happy as Happy Terri during Pool Time is, of course, the kids.

But, they are bigger than me this year and for some reason making me share. Boo.

Heart Noises

I wish it were possible for my fingers to type for you the noises that I am feeling. The noises would sound like snuffles and whimpers and "aaaaagh" and sighs and all of the rough and uncomfortable sounds that a freshly broken heart makes.

Do I have a broken heart? Oh, yes I do. I didn't even know it was possible to feel it physically. I thought it was an "inyourhead" experience...but no. My lungs are gasping, my tummy is twirling, my head is pounding, my eyes are blurring and burning, and my hands are trembly - I am a mess.

I love him. Plain and simple. I love him. And our conversation was supposed to be a simple clearing of the air. An explanation session, a defining of occurrences and odd behaviour.

I had my words ready...they were finely honed, crafted to not cause anxiety or defensiveness. I also had my attitude in check, because I wanted him to know that I could hold myself accountable for my own actions. I wanted him to know that I was willing to do whatever it would take to make our relationship whole again.

But, alas - we never even got to the sorting out phase of the conversation. We only got to the part where I said, "I love you, and I want to grow old with you. I want to build a future together. And I want to work out these little things that are getting in our way...okay?".

And then there was only silence. Because he can't say "I love you" to me. He shows it in a million ways, but he can't say it. And he doesn't see me in his future, because he doesn't see his future at all. Brutally honest, him. But I guess I started it. 

I realized right then that if I hadn't yet inspired my man to see me in his long term future after 2 and 3/4 years, it simply wasn't going to happen.

And there was no reason to sort anything else out...there was nothing there to keep together.

I went to the kitchen, poured some wine, and invited my boyfriend to go watch movies with me. We watched two comedies...I cried through both of them. You know, the silent river of tears that leaves salt burns on your cheeks.

Then I took him to bed. Yes, knowing full well it would be the last of many things. The last night pouring oil on his back and shoulders and massaging out all of the ills of the day. The last time I would snuggle up next to him and smell his neck while he wrapped his arms around me. The last time he would reach his face down to kiss me gently. And then again, but not so gentle. The last time we would lose ourselves in a delicious frenzy of touch and smells and sounds and bodies meeting each other again like it was the very first time.

But it wasn't the first time. It was the last time.

I finally cried myself to sleep after I heard the safety of his snoring. Only to wake back up a couple of hours later, disoriented, exhausted, and ohsosad to have reality come flooding back. 

We had our coffee this morning together. Made small talk, did normal morning things, even smiled a couple of times. He packed up his bag to go to KS while I tried to organize my day in my head. My first day alone without Darin. (Gawd. How do people do this?) I tried really hard to keep myself together.

But then came the final moment - the GoodBye Hug and kiss.

And I panicked. What if I made the wrong decision? What if I am being unreasonable? Why can't I just be happy with the way things are???

But it was too late - what was done was done. Sobbing, I kissed him twice with my arms wrapped around him for dear life. He very gently kissed me one more time on my forehead, turned around and walked out the door.

I love him. I do.

...and I know I always will.

The End.