Most of the time, I’m okay. Except when I’m not.
Like when its a Friday afternoon in October. A 70 degree Indian summer day. Everyone is celebrating the weekend walking around in shorts, making dinner plans, taking their kids to pumpkin patches and haunted trails and fun fall festive events.
Me? I’m handing my kids over to the Trollup. I’m kissing them good-bye swiftly and turning my back and hurrying back into my house so none of them–Trollup or any of the kids, not PC of course, because he can’t be bothered to pick up his own kids–can see that I’m in tears.
What, really am I in tears about? Saying goodbye to my kids for 3 days? Sure. Seeing them trot happily down the sidewalk and hop into Trollup’s car? The fact that I’m pissed that once again, PC told me a bunch of lies. I want more time with the kids. Can I pick them up early? Even through his bullshit, I said okay because, well, that’s what I do. Concede.
Of course, PC didn’t pick them up early. Trollup did. Because of course, it wasn’t about PC spending time with them. It was about the convenience of the pick up. But instead of simply saying that, he concocted a bunch of bullshit lies and stories. Even when I point-blank asked why are you dropping off our daughter’s booster seat? Aren’t you picking her up in 2 hours? he lied. Oh we’re all picking up all the kids in a different car. Liar. I’m not stupid. You want them early, and you want Trollup to pick them up FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE.
And so that left me. On a Friday–a beautiful one at that–alone. I’ve gotten pretty good at making plans and working out my kid-free weekends so that the void that sets in the moment they leave is offset by whatever I have planned. Its easier to say goodbye and hand off your kids to your husband’s girlfriend (because yes, he’s still my fucking husband) when you have a girls night, or company coming, or plans in the wings.
But tonight, no such luck. Because everyone I know has husbands and plans. And it just royally sucks. It doesn’t matter how good your family is, how many friends you have, how tight you are with your children…the bottom line is that a Friday evening with no plans will remind you how fucking alone you are. Will remind you that when it comes down to it, you are alone.
Everyone says get out there, put yourself out there, go out, meet people, you’re a hot ticket, blah blah blah. Except that’s hard to do when you’re bawling your eyes out on your porch at 4:30pm already dipping into the wine because it’s a better alternative than crying without wine. It’s hard to do when you feel like a total loser when everyone else, including your dickhead not-yet-ex-husband has someone.
I don’t miss PC.
But I do miss company. I do miss the fact that even when you have no plans, you have someone. Even if that someone was an asshole who went out every night, it was still someone to converse with before bed, someone to sleep with, someone to plan your weekend around. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t want that life back. But I miss the someone part of it. Being lonely when you are with someone sucks more than being lonely alone. But that’s not to understate the immense void of being all by yourself, day in and day out.
It sucks, people.