I had a dream last night. One of the few with ex. The details drift away as I write.
Somehow we met someplace. Our interaction was not unpleasant. A rhythm developed where we were in sync. Nothing discordant, able to talk, warmer than cordial. We spoke of the breakup. Eventually we ended back up in my bedroom, not the present one, but with the bed we bought shortly after our marriage.
I remember leaning down to change, my cleavage showing, nothing sensual, just matter-of-fact, the way couples do. Clothes off, jammies on. He climbed into the other side, with t-shirt and boxers. I asked him what his wife would think of this. He blew it off. We had no kissing or cuddling, no touch whatsoever. But we talked in a safe way and both fell asleep on our separate sides.
In the morning the talking continued. It was okay until he got out of bed. I asked him to smooth up his side of the bed as he got out. "No."
"Why not, it's no big deal and it saves me work."
He countered, "Are you still mad about that family reunion six years ago when you asked me to do the same thing?"
Why couldn't you just make your side of the bed when you'd get up so early to play golf? Some anger started to seep to the surface.
That's when you called me the most selfish person you knew, Ex. Well you're the most selfish person I know.
A glare with his blue blue eyes and an exasperated here we go again look.
How many women were there? slight pause, Why didn't you come down, even care when I had the head injury?.. anger building You were already gone, weren't you? Completely gone.. Volume building until I was screaming, asking all the questions I never did, getting responses that didn't matter, that didn't say anything.
I waited and waited for you to be willing to talk about it, what bothered you. How could it have been over the moment you finally said it?
That look from him. Me telling him to get out. Me throwing on clothes and going to a separate part of the house. One of my daughter's friends was relaxing on the couch and smiled. We exchanged good mornings.
She asked me why, if I was so mad at him, why did I have him stay overnight. I had no answer. She said it sent a bad message. I agreed once I tried to explain it but it made no sense.
So this morning, I have ragged remnants of anger, hoping that the dream was something cleansing.
Although they were married in May, they are having a wedding next week, a full blown affair. The kids are included in the pictures, nothing else. None are allowed to drink, even the one of legal age, though it's open bar for everyone else. It has been spoken (I don't condone underage drinking but can he dictate what his 24 year old son should do?).
Yet, it's none of my business. This is not being 'done' to me. It's only as upsetting as I let it be. Though the past few days I recalled how fun getting ready for a wedding was and wondering if she was having the same feelings.. that sense of insanity that somehow becomes nostalgic once it's over. I ponder how sincere his vows can be the second time around after living a lie (though he may have felt our marriage was a lie).
What he thinks doesn't matter. What he does doesn't matter. Once we wrap up the final bits of the divorce, we're done. No co parenting, that stopped with him immediately. It's a mucky trudge out of the past, the slimy suction of my own making.
I need a life. I've become a hermit. Content yet frustrated to pad within the boundaries of my house.
Not sure there are "last" phases of letting go. There are waves that we are subject to depending on our personal circumstances. The only option we have is to try to stay out of the water as much as possible.
My therapist's take on the dream is that it's the same old guy in new packaging. He still acts consistently and hasn't changed.
A few friends have called up concerned about my well being on Friday, the day of their vows/reception. It's easy for me to lambaste ex for the scant time he spends with the kids. However, I'm beginning to sound like a rusty wheel. It's time to STOP talking about him once and for all. Describing his actions keeps me in the past where I keep a level of simmering anger. Not good.
The past two weeks my mom has been in Manhattan. I spent a few days in NYC visiting.. we went to a show and a spectacular new walkway down in lower Manhattan called High Line. Some creative minds decided to take abandoned elevated railways and make a promenade. Vestiges of the original tracks appear amidst the scattered wild grasses, peeking flowers and discretely planted blooms while walking down a wide walkway with wrought iron fences keeping the wary from plummeting down three stories.
The azure color of the river peeks between the lower buildings, the sounds of traffic muffled. Atop the line a feeling of openness and freedom builds. I loved it.. and it's so hard to describe. At this point there's only three access points, one at each end, and an elevator for the 18 block stroll. Getting there and wandering to the end is half the joy.
If I deal with the tough stuff first, what I'm most afraid of, everything else is much simpler.
Vinegar is a wonder product when it comes to cleaning.
I've found the condition of my fingernails always give signs of where I'm at when it comes to being mentally healthy.
Instituting a NMX (No More Ex) policy when it comes to discussing his actions is very helpful. The less I speak poorly of him the better I move forward.
He has consistently proven why I should not be emotionally tied to him.
The Four Agreements (see my signature) gives great guideposts for living.
Getting out when I least want to is a good thing (though I still resist it).
Owning what I am is a beautiful thing.
When in doubt, don't buy it.
Pay off credit cards ASAP.
Most businesses allow installment payments.
I'm a great person, wonderful mom and caring friend.
