Faith

ann

Sometimes, this has to happen.

Sometimes, the things that seem long gone–the riptides of pain, tears over things you cannot control, a sense of hopelessness, the black hole–sometimes these things peek at you from behind shadows. The linger in the corners and every now in then, they come up and bitch-slap you, just as a little reminder. Hey, these things seem to say, don’t get too cocky thinking you’re out of the woods yet. Don’t assume that just because you feel all warm and fuzzy that things are okay.

Its been awhile since I’ve had the overwhelming sense of doom, of panic, and it took me by surprise on so many levels. One, because I wasn’t totally expecting it. Two, because I was expecting it but I thought I had myself under control. I thought I was this big, badass, been through shit and can’t be knocked down again person.

For months, PC has remained steadfastly true to his declaration that he will not speak to me, look at me, or communicate with me in any way. Of course, all the bitch work of his divorce has fallen on Trollup. Whatever. Its certainly been more peaceful even if its not a permanent solution.

But a couple events have happened. First…I’m getting a little fed up with Trollup and having to communicate with her about her failures and his on a regular basis. Trollup, you can manage send me messages with your condescending nature about my children, you can manage to say words while forgetting that you are not their mother, not their stepmother. Essentially, you’re nothing. You’re just Dad’s girlfriend. But for fuck’s sake, you can’t manage to do basic things like put sunscreen on them or make sure my kids wear their own underwear. But when I, as their mother, am the one treating sunburns and wondering why a 55 pound kid is wear 4T underwear, I’m sorry, but I do reserve the right to speak to you about it.

And when your boyfriend shows up two hours early to get my kids, I absolutely have a right to tell you about it. To tell you its unacceptable. And I don’t care that you had nothing to do with it. I don’t care that you “forget” about sunscreen and I don’t give two shits about the thousands of reasons you give me when you fuck up something that is just common sense. You wanted to be PC’s form of communication, then deal with it.

Apparently, you must be getting sick of this too, because PC has informed you, to inform me, that he will now unblock me and receive texts and communication. Well, hold the presses! A proven liar states he will do something he’s failed to do for 18 months: communicate. But he certainly didn’t have a problem accosting me on my front porch about the vehicle I drive, and he certainly didn’t have a problem jumping right back into the late night nasty texts.

Best part? He didn’t fucking unblock me. He’s texting from Trollup’s phone, as if he is not liable for anything he says because it wasn’t “him”. I don’t know if she’s totally unaware that he does this, or if she is just that dumb to believe him when he says it won’t matter.

So that happened, in one fell swoop. And just like that, the hopelessness, the fear, the raging anxiety set in. This will never end. Its never going to go away, or get better, and there’s nothing I can do. And that triggered a big old dose of missing my kids so terribly. And my Saturday night date cancelled at the last minute (more on that later but really? Its like the universe must constantly remind me “don’t get your hopes up about anything, ever.) And it was a Saturday. And I wanted to go to the pool but the anxiety of the thought of seeing them, Pc and Trollup, was greater than the primal need to see my children. And like a scale that tipped, everything came rushing to the surface and dripped out slowly.

It was like an old friend, or rather, a frenemy. Sitting on a ledge of bad feelings, of hurt, of tears and a vulnerable sense of nostalgia for something unknown in my subconscious. And my own sense of failure, can’t you just fucking get it together! This is life! Buck up!

It subsided. Maybe that’s just how its going to be. Maybe that’s a metaphor for my life. This is the big chunk of emptiness, lonlieness, uncertainty. Faith will bring forth light eventually. And such was the day, the brief moment and then, just like faith, my neighbor appeared. We poured a wine, rolled up our sleeves and baked in the sun, and she got it. All of it. The anxiety, the missing of the kids, the disappointment. Her life is not my life, but sometimes, once in awhile, your stories run parallel paths for a bit. I will forever be grateful that the forces that be put us next door to each other for this bit of time.

And that was that. I finalized my kid free Saturday not with the date I anticipated, but instead with a barefoot walk in the woods with my most cherished of friends, tromping through the mud and fields with wine and words and reminders everywhere.

Life is hard. But life is not so bad.

So PC and Trollup, suck it. You keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll keep doing what I’m doing. We will never meet in the middle, so eventually the scale will tip to one side and I have to believe (to have faith, if you will) that it will tip towards the good, towards the truth. Until then, feel free to keep giving me an excellent source of writing material.

ann2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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