Not quite just another Monday, the kids have the week off of school.
I am still getting used to the fact that we didn't go to Florida for the break as had been our regular habit. Finances did not permit, and with my grandpa (our reason to go there in the first place) having recently passed away there wasn't a true need to go.
After all yesterday's hoopla about the flowers and corsage, H called last night to talk to the kids and didn't even ask to speak to me.
Oh well.
It may have just been a temporary fit of nice behavior, I may have been trying to attach a meaning to it that it didn't even have.
I made plans this am to go to Wisconsin from Thursday - Sat to visit an old college friend. She has 4 kids, a daughter that is the same age as S15 and triplets that are the same age as S12.
I am hoping that while we are there that S15 can also hook up with a friend of his that moved away last year, he lives about 20 minutes away from my friend.
I was finally able to put a name to what it was that I was feeling yesterday.
Hope.
Every time H acts like his old self and not the MLC version, I find it cropping up again. Hope. And I don't know if that is good or bad. I almost don't want to find myself having a false hope or getting my hopes crushed one more time, but that is what it is.
It was easier to live when I was detached and living w/o hope in regards to the sitch between H and I. Which is not to say that I now have any fantasy of it all working out. But alllowing or recognizing that I was feeling that tiny shred of hope made me feel very vulnerable and exposed.
