The Storm Before the Calm

So, something weird has been going on for the past few weeks.

PC has been compliant. Civil, communicative even. Like a normal soon-to-be-ex that harbors distain but still manages to behave like, well, a human being. PC has been relatively human in the aspect of texting. In particular, the middle-of-the-night nasty messages have ceased. In fact, all nasty messages have ceased.

Its been quite peaceful. Quiet. A little too quiet.

Knowing how he is, and understanding narcissists as I’ve come to, I can only revel in this peace and normal behavior with about 60% of my being. Because the other 40% is on high alert. Something’s coming. Either he has something up his sleeve or he’s simply going to blow his lid when a month of being “nice” makes his head explode.

His last bouts of insanity towards me occurred during the closing of our house. Because of course, the house with the nightmare driveway would close in January, amidst snow and ice. PC, showing his truest of colors, did NOTHING. He did not handle the driveway. He claimed he would move his stuff out and he left it all for me to deal with. He claimed he would be coming back to x y or z, but that was a lie. He left it, because it was a bitch to get out and he knew that me, being me, would handle it. Fortunately, unlike him, I had an arsenal of friends who simply put their lives on hold for a day to help me. But I should clarify that of all the shit he’s pulled, this was one of the most infuriating. Complete with his asshole texts of “not my problem”.

He threatened not to close on the house when he found out that he was not going to be reimbursed for the gas that we had to put in just days before the closing. He then lied to the closing agent when she informed him that the backpay of child support was considered a lien against the house and would have to be satisfied (i.e. delivered to the state who turned around and gave it allllll to me!) That, my friends, is karma. A year ago he cut me off financially and my parents had to pay for everything: mortgage, bills, food, my kids. For three months until domestic relations got involved. Getting that money now, all in one lump sum, a year later, was a sweet piece of poetic justice.

Our last co-parent counseling was right around the same time and was somewhat of a shitshow, as usual. He repeatedly asked what he could do to speed up the process as it was a “waste of time” and was repeatedly told “start behaving, communicating, and putting your kids first”. Did that message sink in?

Did something happen with Trollup? Did his mother threaten him? Does he think that if he is civil with me that I will suddenly agree to sign the divorce papers with no settlement or agree to splitting custody 50/50 as he claims he wants?

Because make no mistake. PC may be sending texts like “I can pick up the kids at 4:30” instead of refusing to tell me and showing up whenever he feels like it. He may be refraining from sending me “go fuck yourself” love notes at 2a.m. But he has not suddenly lost his intense hatred of me, his misguided perception that I am the root of all of his problems (since, you know, it couldn’t possibly be his own doing.)

He still does not speak to or acknowledge my presence, either in public, on my porch, and in front of my kids. To be fair, I do not speak to or acknowledge him either. The difference is look of restrained hatred, the ugly, toxic waves that seem to float off of him when he rings my doorbell or walks past me at kid events. As if it kills him to have to set foot on my home or share the same airspace with me. He glowers menacingly in the background as Trollup yaps away about swimming caps and hair ties and whatever other frivolous crap she feels necessary to talk about.

So you see, I feel that this is the calm before the storm. Or is this just a little blip in the storm before the calm. Because a lot of hurdles have been cleared, to be honest. Emotional, personal ones. Custody and contempt (he may still attempt this but it’s a losing battle.) Forcing Trollup to be a part of our lives (whatever.) The selling of the house, which he made difficult in every way possible and basically did NOTHING to assist. That’s over and done with. The biggest, baddest battle is the one left, really the only one. Get divorced. Getting divorced means divvying up the money and really the heart of all of PC’s cruelty comes from the fact that, in the depths of his soul, he’s a little man hoarding a bunch of money and he doesn’t want to share a cent.


So, yes, the storm before the calm. This little ceasefire is just part of his plotting. He’s trying to make himself look good, as though agreeing to “let” me have the kids on his weekend so they can attend a family funeral is him going above and beyond, instead of just human decency. As if not requiring a trade for this weekend is him going above and beyond, instead of really him just not wanting the children on a weekend when Trollup is kid free.

As if the fact that he’s bailing on two nights with the kids while he and Trollup vacation in Mexico is going to go unmentioned, just because he had the courtesy to respond to a text in a timely and polite fashion.

The demon inside of him is still, for now, but it’s raging. I can see it, and I can sense it. But also…this battle, which WILL be a battle, and the biggest one–because PC loves nothing quite as much as he loves his money–must be fought. There is no way around it. It’s probably going to be ugly, and it’s certainly going to wake up the nasty devil inside of him. But afterwards?

Every tie that binds me to him that can be severed, will be. The kids will always be a link, but the house is gone. The emotional ties fade and fade, quite quickly thanks to his year and a half of verbal abuse. The marriage will be ended and the money will be dealt with. I will change my last name and revert back to being who I was, originally. He will likely be unhappy with whatever the court decides, even if it’s completely logical and fair. He will harbor that hatred of me until it eats him up inside…but it won’t matter to me.

Because I’ll be in the calm. Its coming, I can feel it. This is not over yet, far from it. But its closer and I can almost envision it, almost taste it. And this moment in time, right now, is not a point for me to relax, but a point for to build up my strength. Put on a bit of armor and prepare for the storm. Because even though it might be the worst one, the reward when it’s over will be the sweetest yet.




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