The dog is laughing because fat-boy always fails to realize he is bigger than the dog is, and only occasionally takes a little swipe at the dog when she goes over the line. Which she does by sticking her nose up the cat's asses multiple times a day. Thank goodness for fat-boy's lack of short term memory.
As I said, I stupidly forgave Jon for fucking up my 30th birthday party. A week later was Christmas. His wife took their children down south to visit her sister, and Jon was devastated by this. He was already the kind of person who didn't deal with Christmas well, he apparently had moped before and after the holiday for years. I'm assuming it was something like what we all felt when we didn't believe in Santa any longer - too old for toys, too young to enjoy the spirit of the season. Except he never got over that anticlimactic feeling. I don't know if he thought I was going to magically make it all better, but I couldn't.
We made it through Christmas Eve with my extended family okay, but Christmas morning Jon was a basket case. I tried to buy him quirky, thoughtful gifts that I thought would make him happy, but I failed miserably. On the bright side, I had much better luck with my son! And that should have been what I was focusing on. After we finished opening presents, I started cleaning up and preparing for my family to come at noon for brunch. Jon had decided to go back to New Jersey to spend Christmas day with his parents, and I assumed he was upstairs getting ready.
I went up to check on him when I realized I hadn't heard the shower running or any noise from him in a little while, and found him curled up in the fetal position on my bed crying. My heart was broken for him because he was so sad, so I curled up around him and held him for as long as I could. I finally had to say, "I have to get moving, I have my parents and sisters and nieces coming in an hour." He convinced me to take a shower with him, and I felt so bad, I couldn't say no. Needless to say, when my family arrived there was basically no food ready for the brunch buffet.
That was always how it went with Jon. I felt like I wanted to please him so badly that nothing else mattered. No matter what it was that he wanted, I almost never said no to anything. I don't understand how he functioned on as little sleep as he did, either. Sometimes he showed at midnight and woke me up, and then he would set the alarm for an hour before we actually had to get up for work. Sleep deprivation is a torture technique used for keeping people disoriented, and I swear it started taking its toll on me after a while.
We settled in to a routine, as I had mentioned before, of him spending many nights every week at the family house, and a night here or there at my place. This never changed for the duration of our relationship, by the way. No matter where he was living, and he finally ended up moving back in with his parents, he could not ever justify having the kids over to stay with him. He always went there.
At the end of that December, he changed jobs, hoping to alleviate the strain on our work relationship. Lily had started leaving messages on the main work number's general mailbox like "Fancy Schmancy is a fucking cunt!" among other things. Jon thought the new job would actually make him more money, and ease my boss's angst about our personal relationship interfering with his office.
Over the months that followed, I tried really hard to put the work in to what I thought was our relationship, and I thought I was being supportive. I kept drinking more and more, so in retrospect what I thought was being supportive at the time was really just numbing myself in an effort to not pick fights with him over what I knew was not right.
I took him away for his birthday at the end of March, 2001 to Newport, RI. I spent a small fortune on that weekend that I didn't have, and found out two weeks later from Lily that he had been trying to get busy with her again. The main reason I knew for certain that they hadn't actually done the deed was because I knew she would have told me about it. Jon admitted to getting too friendly with Lily on a couple of occasions but swore to me that he was committed to making things work with me.
Like a fool, I believed him. I begged him to stay away from her, make new arrangements where he took the kids outside the house to help out with them. He kept saying that the best way he could still be a good father was to be there in the house to help out with them. It was too soon, he argued. It's been six months, I argued. Not to mention, how could Lily possibly have any time to get over him when he was in her fucking face in their house every night least 4 times a week?!
Remember when I said that in the beginning, every step I took backward made him come rushing forward, and every time I got complacent was when he "fell back in love" with his wife. I still felt that pressure, and so did Lily. He was playing us both. And we both fell for it. I found out after that for every bad thing he told me about Lily and their relationship, he was confiding in her all the bad things about me and our relationship.
The therapist that had been giving them marriage counseling had agreed to treat Jon alone when they split. The therapist flat out told him that he needed to give up both of us for a while and work on himself before he could commit to either of us. Needless to say, he promptly gave up therapy.
Where I left off last, Jon had technically left his wife. He spent that whole first weekend at my house, and Lily called his cell phone constantly. There were a lot of issues that needed to be worked out, but mostly she just wanted to scream at him. A lot.
Lily worked part time as a teacher's aid, there was no money for Jon to get an apartment of his own. She absolutely refused to go back to work full time - they had an agreement that their children would never go to daycare so she was going to be there for them before and after school. She rationalized that since none of this was her fault, she and the children should not have to suffer for his mistakes. He couldn't just come live with me full time as she needed him to be there to help take care of his children.
That weekend, Jon called one of his friends who lived in the same area of New Jersey. He had a house with extra bedrooms which Jon asked if he could crash in for a little while until he got things under control. His friend had just gotten engaged, so it was only a temporary solution.
Sunday night, I asked him how things were going to work out, if there was going to be a specific schedule, but he just didn't know at that point. Monday morning as we were both getting ready for work, I turned to him and asked, "Are you going to come back to me?". He promised he would, and he did.
There never was any specific schedule made, and Lily expected Jon to be at her beck and call at all times. I think the worst part of that time was when Lily sat the kids down in front of Jon that Monday to tell them he wouldn't be living there any longer. She told them that he didn't love "them" any more and a mean, evil lady had stolen him away from them. I was horrified.
From pretty much the moment he left my house that Monday morning, her phone calls to me started again. She would leave messages at my house when Jon wasn't with me, voice mails at my work when he was. When he was with me she called his cell phone constantly, he always answered. At one point it was 11pm. We were getting intimate and he answered the fucking call. I was furious. He tried to rationalize that there might have been an emergency that involved his kids. I responded that she knew my home number - if it had been an emergency she would have called that if he didn't answer his cell. He was totally torn, and didn't have a clue of how to handle it. I knew for a fact by then that he didn't have a pair of his own, but I still loved and wanted to be with him, and I really empathized with his need to protect and take care of his kids.
Not having a schedule meant that I never knew when I could make plans, or what we were going to be doing at any given time. Jon and Lily settled into a routine where he would go to their house and help out with the kids a few nights a week, then spend a night with me. When I say help out with the kids, I mean he went there straight after work, they all had dinner together, he helped with homework, he helped with dishes, he helped with laundry, he helped put them to bed and he stayed there until the kids were asleep. His kids didn't fall asleep right away so most nights he was there past 10pm. Which is about my bed time. He expected me to be awake to take his phone calls when he left there, and was upset when I wasn't. He even continued to do all the yard work on the weekends. I tried to explain that this whole situation wasn't normal.
I mean, where do I begin that this wasn't normal? I was so torn between feeling he should be there for his kids to help make this transition easier, and the fact that when couples separate, there should be some kind of separation. I argued that Lily only worked part time, why would she need so much help with the cooking and dishes and laundry. I was a single mother who worked full time, I got it all done on my own, including my own yard work. I was obviously extremely biased and judgmental at the time. Like I have said before, I had developed an unhealthy hatred toward this woman. I couldn't understand why she still needed her husband for all these things because it was getting in the way of MY relationship with him.
Lily said to me at one point, "just because your son has never grown up with a father doesn't mean my children have to". That floored me, because it was true. Jon tried to rationalize the time he spent in their home as being a good father, because that was also true. He said that doing the dishes and laundry was helping take care of his responsibility of what his children used and needed. That was also true. But it still wasn't normal.
I was having a really hard time wrapping my head around what role I was supposed to be playing. For a while, I played the supportive girlfriend role, taking whatever I could get and being happy for it. That lasted a couple of months. We spent Thanksgiving of 2000 together with my family. If I recall correctly, Lily threatened to put the kids in her minivan that weekend and drive them up to CT so they could witness their mother kicking that mean, evil lady's ass. She never showed up.
That December, Lily upped her game. She announced that she was taking the kids down south to visit her sister for Christmas, and Jon couldn't do a damn thing to stop her. In the meantime, she had starting working evenings at a local home goods type store, so Jon had to be there to watch the kids while she worked. She made sure she was on the schedule every Thursday-Friday-Saturday for the month before she left. Obviously, they needed the money, but she made sure to go out with her girlfriends on Friday and Saturday long after the store closed. That meant that if Jon wanted to come up and see me, sometimes he couldn't even start to make the hour and a half drive until after 2am.
This all came to a head the weekend of my 30th birthday. My older sister had made plans with me and Jon to go out for my birthday the Saturday before Christmas. I had a sitter, and Jon had made certain in advance to tell Lily that that day was off limits. She not only scheduled herself to work that day, but made sure to call me and taunt me about it. She called my answering machine at home and told me that she had every intention of ruining my "surprise" 30th birthday party as my being in her life had ruined her 40th birthday that past summer. Shortly after, Jon called to tell me that he had to bow out of our plans that night.
I asked him, "Jon, are they throwing a surprise party for me tonight?". He admitted that there was a party, but he couldn't be there. He swore up and down that there was no one else who could babysit his kids that night, he begged me to forgive him in advance. Dumbass that I was, I did forgive him. I forgave him for telling Lily about the party so she could ruin my surprise, I forgave him for not showing up to the party, and I forgave him for not showing up at my house until 4:30am. Lily had stayed out as long as possible without pulling an all-nighter.
I forgave him. This and so much more. These are the things that I think about when I ask myself, "what was I thinking?". "How did I not see the signs?" "Why did I keep going back for more?" "What was wrong with me?"
I'm having trouble writing this next installment, and I'm not sure why. I've been putting it off, but I guess the only thing I can do is jump in and start writing, and sort it all out after.
I left off around the end of August, 2000. They both pretty much left me alone for a while, but Jon was always kind of around the edges, looking for a way back in. He was having an early mid-life crisis, and I was the fuel feeding it. He eventually came to realize that his rich fantasies of me and the reality of me didn't mesh. At the time, however, I was still forbidden fruit, ripe for the picking.
As time wore on, I grew less furious, and started taking his calls at work, although I would have nothing to do with him otherwise. I kept our calls strictly professional, although sometimes I would intentionally taunt him by telling him I had started dating again. I was seeing two men at the same time, casually. I also made sure to tell him about the awesome Halloween party I had for my son's entire class. Especially the part about how I dressed up as Cleopatra for the party. Cleopatra was a nickname he had given me because of my dark eyes and "mysterious aura". But I wouldn't let him talk to me about anything personal on his end.
Even though I was not even remotely over him, still totally in love with him, I wasn't even really trying. Apparently not caring about him or his life had some magic effect on him. Two weeks after Halloween, his wife called me on a Friday afternoon at work. I was shocked, and had no idea what to say. "Lily, why are you calling me at work?". My pod-mate (who it turns out also knew what was going on) graciously put her phone on unavailable and left the pod so I could have some privacy.
Lily told me to cut the bull, she was sure Jon had already filled me in that things were less than perfect in their relationship. I truthfully assured her that was not the case. I told her that other than a few professionalish phone calls recently, I had had nothing to do with her husband for months. While she seemed to believe me, she told me it was over. She was sick of him moping around and not even pretending to make an effort to fix things with her anymore. She told me she washed her hands of him, she was done and I could have him. As a matter of fact, he was standing right there listening to her.
I had no idea what had led up to these events, but I wasn't about to be tricked again. I asked, "Are you sure this time, Lily?". She assured me that she was, and handed Jon the phone. He sheepishly asked if he could come up and take me out to dinner. Before my brain could think rationally, I told him I would make him dinner, instead. But he had to promise me he wouldn't go running home the next day if she changed her mind. This had to be it, he either had to leave her for good, or leave me alone.
He promised me on the phone, in front of her, that he was leaving her and their family and their home for good. And I believed him. I didn't understand at the time the differences between what that meant to me and what that meant to him.
I thought I was so in love with him, and he was so in love with me, that we could make anything work. I didn't foresee problems with his wife, complications with children, the long distance factor, our families, work, etc.. I wasn't looking at any of that. Even if I had been, I would have had no way of knowing how we eventually tried to deal with it, or didn't deal with it at all.
All I knew was that I loved him more than I had ever loved any other man. I put my blinders on, and I recklessly plunged forward. I opened myself up to that love, and I made myself incredibly vulnerable by doing so. Have you ever heard Anita Baker's song, "Body and Soul"? When you naively attach yourself to a tragic song like this before the relationship has even taken off the ground, you should probably know in advance that it doesn't have wings strong enough to fly.
My mother calls me at least once a week. I hate to have to say that I avoid her calls like the plague. I almost never call her first, almost never pick up when she calls, and sometimes it takes me days to call her back. I often have to be in the right frame of mind to actually have a conversation with her. I will sometimes call her back from work while on a cigarette break so I can use that as an excuse for the limit of time she has to get to the point before I get off the phone.
She left a message on my machine Thursday night, and I waited until about an hour ago to return her call. Her message indicated that she wanted to talk about flights in and out to visit this coming summer. I called her back to get an idea of her travel dates, which were wacky. She might want to come in the first week in July and leave at the end of the first week of August. Which was not cool with me, but before I had a chance to say so, she said that she didn't think that would work after all. Maybe she would come in for the month of August. But maybe she would fly in the last week of July to Buffalo, and have her relatives from Ontario cross the border and pick her up and spend a week there.
I told her I would check her flight options for all those possible scenarios and let her know. BUT, was my sister Shouf (who technically lives with me), going to be a part of all of those flights? Shouf has special needs, and cannot, will not travel alone. Mother hemmed and hawed, until I picked up on the fact that she could not talk freely. Mom, can you leave the room so you can talk more? No. Okay, that didn't make sense. Is Shouf going to stay with Bouf for the summer or something? I can't say right now. This guess and non-answer thing went about two more rounds before I lost my patience.
Okay, I'm going to change the subject because this has become way too cryptic for me to handle. How is "85 year old boyfriend with his returning lung cancer"? Well he was sitting right next to her, so she told him that I asked about him, and he flashed the "V" for victory. I told her to send him my love, and asked about his treatment. Only 2 more chemo/radiation sessions left for next week! Good for him! Of course, she responded negatively to this because she is a drama queen, and that is what she does. Then she started chattering on about how she had the nerve to complain about something she was going through, but BoyFriend doesn't ever complain, yada, yada, yada. "Do you, Honey-Bunny? A-Han-han-ha...." Crap, she pulled out the fake, phoney-baloney laugh.
There is nothing I hate more than trying to have a phone conversation with someone who is putting on a show for another person in the actual room with them. If you are on the phone with me, give me your attention, or tell me you are too busy to talk and call me another time. I absolutely abhor talking on the phone in the first place. I didn't even realize this was what was happening, at first.
So, my mother tried to continue the conversation by saying she couldn't wait to find out what was going on with me. I started talking about planting the vegetable garden, but before I got very far she asked me about my cousin's new baby. Okay, I'll talk about that instead. As I started talking, I got off on a tangent about something else very personal. While I was talking about that part of my life, she actually responded in a way that I thought meant she was interested in hearing more about it. But as I started talking more, she interrupted me mid-sentence with "okay". "Boyfriend told me to tell your son he said hello". "Okay, mom, I will." Then she let loose with her fake, phoney-baloney laugh, and I knew the conversation was over. "Okay, honey, so call me again soon and let me know about those flights." "Okay, Mom, I love you, bye-bye."
She dismissed me mid-sentence. I didn't even want to call her back, and when I did I ended up feeling like I was only convenient as long as I was part of the show she was putting on - on her end of the phone call. I don't understand how Boyfriend hasn't seen through her act after all of these years. And I don't understand why I have put up with the act for all the years that I have been a part of it.
I'm still looking for a knight in shining armour, complete with the white horse. I'd prefer if he was not already married, or gay.
I promise I will always give you Way Too Much Information! How could you resist that?
