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.
