Now that I’ve come clean about the whole marriage / divorce thing, it’s kind of like a weight has been lifted off me.. or the light at the end of the tunnel turned on.. because now, I just feel the freedom to really let you guys know what’s on my mind.
I had a lot of time to think tonight. Laundry night at the laundromat tends to be like that. Having nothing to do but watch front loaders do their thing while soundless televisions play shows WITHOUT the close captioning leaves little for mental stimulation or oblivion.
Bird usually accompanies me for some free therapy vent sessions but she has the mother of all head colds so I had to go it alone.
My brain is a dangerous territory to navigate when it’s alone with it’s thoughts.
Anyway… before I get into all that, let me give you some highlights of the past few days of my life:
- Remember Bubba and the cell phone thing? Well, his bill came in. All 53.00 of it due on October 23rd. Saturday when I left for work, his porky ass was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and his laptop. Before I left for the shop, I made sure the house was straight.. the bathroom clean and the kitchen spotless. When I came home, 7 hours later, Bubba was still in the same spot only my spotless kitchen was anything but. I told him to get off his ass and clean up the kitchen so it looks like the same way he found it because I wasn’t cooking dinner until he does. He didn’t do anything.. never got off his ass.. never even ATTEMPTED to do anything. Fine. After working 20-some odd hours, I didn’t want Chief to have to suffer for Bubba not doing what I asked him so I cleaned the kitchen.. cooked dinner.. and while we sat enjoying Grilled Rib Eye, Sauteed Mushrooms, Baked Potatoes and Broccoli I whipped out his cell phone bill, shoved it at him and told him that since he didn’t do what I wanted him to do I wasn’t paying his bill. He can enjoy his phone for the next 20 days but after that, oh fucking well. He just stared at me and before he could get a word out, I ripped it up.
- Spaz :: after doing tonight’s laundry :: is down TWO uniforms. Funny how he has them on when he goes to the Crack Whore’s on Friday and then comes home without them. But.. yknow.. she doesn’t have them. And let’s see, I need help spelling my first name, right? In fact, today he wore black pants to school. He came home late and I figured it was because the Crack Whore wasn’t home. He wasn’t in the house for no more then 15 minutes when she knocked on the door for him and he asked if he could go with her. I happened to be on the phone with Goober at the time so I told him yea, he could go but he had to change out of his school clothes first. He did.. leaving in a navy blue t-shirt with guitars on them. He came BACK wearing a yellow t-shirt saying that she wanted him to change it because the Navy one ( a size medium ) was too tight. No fucking shit. Your kid is like a 160+ pounds and wears a man’s 34 waist. AND HE’S ELEVEN. At any rate, guess what wasn’t in the laundry tonight? Yep.. black pants. Even though HE was the one that got the laundry hamper out of his room and I specifically told him to make sure he gave me everything.
- Tonight, since I’ve been trying to get the taxes together for the shop, Chief said that I didn’t have to worry about cooking.. that he would just order pizza. So guess what I came home to find? Pizza boxes all over the place, dirty dishes all over the place.. glasses all over the place.. the blankets that I had folded on the back of the couch all over the floor.. and the shop’s PS3 controller in the middle of the living room floor. I hope for fuck’s sake that the damn thing is broken. I really do. In fact, if I was the cold hearted bitch that everyone seems to think I am, I would break the damn thing myself.
So with all that going on.. and with Chief finally starting the ball rolling with his divorce, I got to thinking tonight… do I REALLY want to marry him?
Because, like now, the option is very real.
Before.. yea we had the little non-legal commitment ceremony… and yea, everyone thinks we’re married.. and yea, I use his last name but you know what? It’s easy to pretend those things when the whole legal aspect of it is not a possibility.
Let’s face it.. I always had my out. If I REALLY wanted to, I could walk out the door any time I damn well please because there nothing legally binding me here.
I never put my name on the lease.. the only bill in my name is the cable :: and fuck them, they can live without it :: and the cars are in my name. That’s it. I’m not even listed as co-owner of the store.
So if you get what I’m saying, him not being divorced allowed me to fantasize about the day when we would have the “real” wedding I never had knowing that it wasn’t going to happen. And knowing that it wasn’t going to happen afforded me the opportunity to put up with a lot of shit.
Now.. in about 90 days or so.. his divorce will be final and I know the first thing he’s going to want to do is head to the nearest justice of the peace and put the ring on my finger that I am now thinking of handcuffs.
Because then.. dear friends… THEN I will have no choice but put up with all this shit.. no options to just go if it gets too much to deal with.
So I have questions. Questions that only HE can answer but I honestly .. right now.. don’t think that he can be honest enough with himself to answer.
I’m not one to give ultimatums. In fact, I despise them.. but we’re talking about my life.. health and well-being here.. In fact, it’s pretty damn simple.
Figure out what the fuck you want. Honestly and from deep within your soul. Because if I’m what you want, then he’s going to have to man up.. let the hair grow back on his balls and release the testosterone when it comes to the Crack Whore. I’m not playing this shit no more and I have a deep seated suspicion that this is how it went with all his other relationships. Because, if he’s being honest with himself and I’M being honest with MYself I think that everything I blog about is the same damn thing that has happened time and time again and I think part of him is just waiting. Waiting for the same thing to happen again.
If that’s the case, then I really don’t have his heart. Only part of it.. and I deserve it all. I’m too good a person.. too good a partner.. too good a woman to put up with any less.
When I came home tonight and saw the destruction that was my house, I let loose my dogs of war and started cleaning things up .. banging the whole way.. slamming the dishes in the cabinet.. throwing the silverware into the drawers so that they clanged louder then Quazimoto’s sanctuary bell. I shoved furniture around so that it made that nails-on-blackboard screeching noise on the wood floors and I think I probably broke a glass or two in the process.
I stomped in my bedroom to get my laptop.. rousing Chief from his slumber in the process..
“Leese.. honey?.. What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”
I wanted to say, “.. no, you simple ass dense mother fucker” but I didn’t. I wanted to tell him that I was leaving and was going to go stay at my mom’s since she’s away at my brother’s because I just can’t stand to be in this house a second longer. I just said “no” .. and “go back to sleep”. But in a forceful way.
And he did. Go back to sleep.
Which.. even though you may think I afforded him a pass.. is actually a good thing because one thing I do know about myself is when I’m like this, I go for the jugular and it’s best to not say things that you can’t take back.
My father always told me that words are like nails in wood. You can take the nail out but it still leaves a hole.
I don’t want to leave holes.. what I want is to sit down calmly and have a conversation about our future and what I require as a person to live my life without creating 1500 word blogs at 1am because I’m pissed.
LIVING ME 101 