That Slippery Slope

I don't want to get old, he said
It was easy to watch the past
the best of who he'd been
The very thing he cherished
cascading over and over
just as the shadows passed over his face
as we drove under street lights
at 38 miles and hour in his car

Songs playing out
designed to push away the failure
the lack in his life
Because he is what was
The Night Watch on the South China Sea
Ocean smooth as glass
New wave music playing out
on his cd player in the freezing cold
To get him through the starry night

Each song playing then, plays now
His happier, identified past on his iPod
in his little mat-black economy car
On a silky spring night
a bit too warm, and too early for it's season
Windows down
Hoping for enough courage
to get him through the next hour
To get him through tomorrow

He asks me not one question, not one
He speaks over anything I offer
I am simply a sound board
A new pair of ears for old tunes
and what they represent 
A time that slithered away from him

He'd wanted to be married, hell yeah
and he figured he would have been by now
He'd wanted kids, sure he did
Thought he'd've always been a good father
He likes kids, of course he does

But he's 48 now
it's too late and he's past all that now too
He doesn't want to be a Dad in his 50's
He'd dated a few times and had his heart broken
It wasn't him
He likes to think
I can see it, say it enough times and it is true
lies he tells himself and hopes are truths

The Cult, The Cure, Depeche Mode, Psychedelic Furs, Joy Division
The list was endless
My god, he knows the albums, the tracks, facts about the bands
Each and every one, precious
highlighting how great times are gone
Now he does just enough
to keep the cobwebs from gathering in aging joints
$1 Coors Light bottle beer night Thursday's
With his Boys

Trolling Hotties and pretending
None of it makes him feel old and tired
Unless he's reminiscing how good it Was
His eyes a bit hollow, a little swollen from hang-over
The eyes that have given up
The smile that tries, and fails
To convince even him that this life isn't  proof
of his being incapable

He just turned 48 last week
He's that guy now
That old guy, not completely creepy, yet
But he's not...
He's still That guy
That guy that swaggers in his comfort zone
and insists
There's enough time to be all the things
He never actually became.

The Wicked, Wandering, and Wonderful

The path is smoothing out again
It is not rice paper, it is not broken glass
I started looking up again
Not down
Not feeling every dip, every curve
Not seeing every bad thing ahead
laying in wait with it's tail snapping in the shadows

The sun has been shining here
soft and warm and new
I've hidden from it some
Gently now I let it cover me
craving the warmth and sweetness of
the muted sounds of things alive around me

Even in the light, or in the cooler cover of night
I carry both my suspicious mind
my optimistic hope
They are fragile things to build upon

I owe Nothing
I have paid and paid the price
of things I did not purchase
and things I did

The Wicked, Wandering, and Wonderful
The small things
The greater things
all shaping and forming
all draped on My shoulders
The past
The present
The future
In my hands
long delicate fingers
attempt to draw them down
To cradle them there

Knotched Arrow ----> Fly

This morning I receive a phone call. 

Yesterday I spoke to the school psychologist after she was referred to me after my meeting with one of my sons teachers.  She overloaded me with information and resources, particularly regarding counseling and proper diagnosis for my son.  She indicated his medication might be the problem as it is common with the wrong med, wrong dosage, wrong diagnosis, that these things can lead to unfortunate side effects like my son is exhibiting.  Unfortunately since their father moved away last year he changed medical coverage and this change resulted in no mental health coverage. 
Now, if any of you out there have a child that is ADHD you know there is really no help unless you have mental health coverage (something this new insurance lacks and my sons doctor found shocking) because doctors refer out for this sort of thing.

If you don't have to refer out, I am jealous.

Now, the uncomfortable part...the phone call.  The phone call was a return call from one of the reference numbers.  Back story: I went to Covered California and filled out the information.  I do not qualify for discounted insurance.  Oh, it is not because I am rolling in the deep pockets of financial bliss.  No.  It is because I am the hard working and no money making single Mom of the self employed.

I qualify for MediCal. 

I suddenly feel nauseous. All I know is I am now a pariah to a large majority of conservative-politically bent people I know, and worse... my own ego.

Even in the early stages of my separation and divorce and child support order, when I was putting myself through school (stupid choice of cosmetology. I should have done anything medical), had the boys 24/7 to support my ex in his training for corrections, I had no money, no help, and I still refused assistance.  Luckily I was bar tending then and managed to get by.  The same now, only I do hair and I have been years in the building my clientele. Honestly, without child support I don't think I could survive on my own.  I love what I do, but I am realizing now that John is gone and the distractions are gone, my Job is not a job but a Hobby.

MediCal.  It seems wrong.  It rubs uncomfortably against my pride.  I should have made better choices.  How can I move forward now?

Now I have to have proof of insurance.  I can't hide anymore.  I tried private pay, and thankfully my sons are covered under their fathers benefits, so my dropping the insurance when they raised my premiums impossibly high didn't effect them.  By the way, I looked up Effect and Affect.  I think I got it right.  These two have always caused me problems.  If I am wrong I tried.  If you, reader-voyeur, are dissatisfied with me, fuck off and I hope you eat many spiders while you sleep and feel all creepy inside.

My shame, now I get to roll out the MediCal for services I'd rather avoid but honestly, can't...shouldn't.  I have to reveal my 'shame' to my future doctor and their staff who will judge me for my iPhone 4 and non-walmart kitty decal clothin.  My accountant who lit the fire under my reluctant ass will know.  Well, he already knows I suppose he saw my AGI.

The few people I have confided in have told me I am being ridiculous and they wish they'd qualified for MediCal.

Even typing it out here makes me uncomfortable.  I feel like a failure.

Yet, I don't judge negatively anyone I know that does use assistance.  I don't think less of them at all.  I see them as who they are, the person.  This is a ME thing.  As well, I never did lack in understanding of John not wanting to go to the doctor regarding his health, his blood pressure.  Of course I continually mentioned it wanting him to go.  Knowing deep down no matter how healthy he looked, how remarkably young, his internal health was suffering.  And tragically his not taking care of his health lead to his passing at far too young an age.  I understood it though.

Something else, and maybe all of these confessions will lead to making me a better person or something, but...I envy my friends that can take care of themselves where I can't.  I envy my friends that are married and don't live under the pressure I do.  They made better choices.  That's the plain truth.

If most people knew what was in my checking and savings combined they'd probably die from horror.  I am trying to save.  My debt is manageable but keeps me from saving as much as I'd like.  I never pay anything late, my sons eat and often have things they like. I take care of my paid off car.  My credit is good, though I should personally check it again it's been long enough since the last time.  Probably too long.  But I'm clean.  I'm just broke.

But the constant sense of instability in the background is frightening.

And yet, I'd rather be alone than ever settle again.  I haven't always made this choice in my past but my choices were always genuine.  John highlighted something in me no one else ever did.  I won't ever settle again.  There's this barrier I'm not sure will ever let anyone in, and yes that is different than settling.  I wish you, reader, could be a little observer on my shoulder.  You'd agree, I'm right to feel the way I do.  I'm not looking, but what I am seeing is... settling in the extreme material.  It falls under, Do Not Touch Me Again Ever material.  There's a lot of creeps out there.  A lot of lazy boys.  No intelligent great gentlemanly men.  Everyone wants an easy mark, a hook up.  Even my dating girlfriends.  It's just not my thing.  I'm not frigid...in fact I am highly aware of my needs, I just can't make myself willing to waste my time.

Sometimes I wish I were more calculating.  If I were I'd have focused a lot more on my education I think. 

There is a song I find running through my mind often...

Nick Drake, One of These Things First


http://youtu.be/QSlh8u8Nrig
*look I figured it out, minus the image. pity*

I know it doesn't really sum up what I am saying here, but I could have been...

I could still be.  However, right now I have my son to focus on and my other son to see taking flight into his adult life soon.

Life is a transition.  Sometimes I wonder why I am the way I am.  Why I have such strange standards for different areas of my life.  Why I am one thing and not another.  Or why I am conflicted, Why am I (as my mother-in-law states) surrounded by crazy. 

No more crazy.  I am trying to get my shit together.  I am slowly waking up from the last year and a half.  I hope I am moving forward.

I Think Fury Is Knock, Knock, Knocking

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Fury...

Many years ago I blogged a little short I titled, There's a Bitch in my Head and Her Name is Fury.

It was a funny little description of something my then husband did that pissed me off.

The alter ego's name fit though and the poor self protective bitch has been on lock down in solitary confinement since third grade at Turtle Rock Elementary School.  She kind of took over when I saw red during a show and tell presentation in class.  I became aware and found my hand fisted in a boys hair and my left hand in a fist raised and ready to knock him out.  He was heckling me from his seat, poor stupid kid.  My teacher, Mr. Comb-over, had kept my left fist from flying to it's mark where it intended to break the nose of boy who's hair I was ripping out with the pressure of my fingers alone.

Fury made me nervous.  So I put her away.  I've written about her before.

Well, she's started to get past weakening bonds and locks and cell walls.  I'm okay with that.  However, she and I are getting to know each other and she can be a real bitch and sadly, at the wrong times.  She and I have a lot to learn.

For example, we are wise enough to not engage with someone worthless.  However, dropping responsibility in someones lap and not caring how they react would be a nice place for us to step up to.
Exhibit one: Diana, my ultra co-dependent co-worker.  I like this girl, but I don't.  She's full of venom, but only she is allowed to talk smack on others, or be frustrated by them.  I guess because she has a better reason than I do.  She's fat.
She put me on blast online, she thought it was a closed group.  I saw the whole thing.  I knew it was about me even if she didn't name me specifically.  She sees my youngest son, and the rest of the world as needing to be protected from the pretty, slender-curvy mean girl.  She made opinions fact not knowing shit about my life.  When I gently (and I could have let Fury out but didn't) informed her of her lack of knowledge, which I gave her a rundown on the last year and a half of my life, and how narrow perspective was she apologized profusely and offered to let me hit her hard with the anger I so greatly deserved because she was a said, 'Piece of Shit'.  Another incident, she told me things, personal things I do not need to know, about the owner of our workplace and her boyfriend.  When I then stated that he'd made a poor social impression to me by treating us like peon's when he didn't outright ignore our existence, she then defended him as though she hadn't been gossiping maliciously about him a second before.  I let her know she didn't need to do that.  Her response, so so so co-dependent was this, 'I just won't say Anything then' and in an injured tone.  Oh snap.  She is my grandmother.

Well, exhibit one, almost at the finish line: March 2nd she came over, me having forgiven her for her online blast of me and my mothering and kindly moving on... she went out on the patio to have a cigaret before leaving and my thirteen year old followed her out because she treats him like he's amazing even when her countenance reads, he's annoying. All because she sees an awkward kindred spirit.  She comes in and informs me my son was making sex sounds at her and then told her that is how he met his best friend Stephanie, they made sex sounds at each other.

Great.

I asked her if she told him he was making her uncomfortable and if she told him that sort of behavior is inappropriate.  She poo-poo'd me!  Not literally, but she waved it off and said, 'Ohhhhhh, it's okahhhhhy. ha-ha-ha.'

I said to her, "No it's not.  I need the village to help raise my son.  You had a great opportunity to help him know his behavior is making you uncomfortable and inappropriate."

No, she's like everyone else in my life, with exception of my mother-in-law, They prefer to dump that crap on my lap instead.

Fury decided that Bitch isn't coming to my home ever again.  Fury pretty much put me on blast in my head pointing out that Diana is proven to not be worth my effort in confrontation.  She'll just act injured instead.  Unless of course I just write it out and let her digest it first.  Screw that.  I won't waste my time.  She's struck out three times.  I'll be friendly at work and only because we work together.  Otherwise I would have let Fury have at her. 


Next up, the Social Life and Fury being inappropriate.

I went out last Friday night.  The two times before that weren't so great before that either.  One because Mr. Been There Done That (10 years ago guy) showed up with his friends.  These guys have not changed in 10 years.  I will quote them from our table, 'Look, Hotties.'  To which they went outside and began to hit on a few obvious trashy blonds.  When Mr. 10 years ago sat down my girlfriend put her arm around me while her husband talked to his buddy (that recognized me but couldn't place me and we realized it was from when I was bar tending and had met Mr. 10 years ago), he said, 'Oh Honey I had her first' to which they then went back and forth over me making that statement.  Awesome.  No Mr. 10, she did.  I've known her since I was 19.  He then shut up, a great feat of self control for him.  I think it was because he was texting and struggling to spell a word.

His friend that recognized me proceeded to bring up my brief relationship and a sexual encounter and how good '04 was.  Fury let him know the facts, bluntly.  It was nice to see him shut up about it.  Later he got my number from his friend to ask for a picture I'd taken of him, Mr. 10 years ago, and their buddy.  He also then messaged me leading up to asking me out.  Poor sad emotionally delayed sack of stupid.  Do you really think I'm that woman from 10 years ago and isn't there some kind of bro code?  Because if you think you can hit me up and get a piece of me, well, I'll hurt your ego and fast.

Then I had a girls night.  Another band.  Some creepy guy kept trying to dance with me when I was dancing with my friends.  He kept letting me know he was interested when I let him know I wasn't.
We left early as our band played first and best.  I was relieved.

And last Friday.  My friend and her husband, another friend and her husband, and another two couples the same.  I was the single girl, dancing with her girlfriends, while hubbies did their thing.  When we walked in the night was shadowed by that married guys wife my 'friend' tried to set me up with.  I knew her when I saw her because feeling things were shady I'd checked his profile on Facebook scrolling down until I finally found a mention of her.  Checked her Facebook, ironically the same night she called me because he left his phone on the counter when he went to shower.  I can only think she did a little Facebook stalking too.  I'm easy to find if you know my name.  It's very uncommon.  She looked at me a few times, a few of her friends did too.  Nothing malicious, but uncomfortable.  She was there with her friends as I was.  It's too bad things played out the way they did because I am certain we'd like each other if we'd met under other circumstances.  I'm still convinced John is laughing at me and saying, 'I told you so' from wherever he is now.  Dancing with my friends this guy tried to dance with my close friend (her husband talking to the other guys while we danced), she pawned him off on me knowing if she didn't fast her nice night would end with her 5'6" husband trying to kick a 6'4" guys ass.  Yes, I was pissed.  I a not interested in being anyone's second choice, part time, some times, maybe girl.  I extracted myself and went back to our table and went back after he left the floor soon after so I could dance with my girlfriends again.  But Fury had leaked out that night.  The drummer for the band is friendly with my friends.  I put him 'on blast'.  His words, for giving me false info, regarding his email to send him something I'd found on youtube he was interesting in.  When I tried to send it later the email came back as invalid.  I figured he gave out a fake one to seem polite to our mutual friends but didn't want to bother with me or perhaps have issue with his girl or something.  So Fury confronted him on that bluntly.  Had it been me I would have mentioned it more tactfully.

So the last several times I have escaped for me time it has been shadowed by petty bs.  A good time slimmed by the past or creepy guys trying to dance with me. Or by Fury blowing off steam and making me look like an ass.

As a result of all these little things, my son, my social life, work being slow... I'm tired and feeling kind of pathetic.

Fury has retreated so I don't even have her gumption to keep on keeping on.

Today I am helping my elderly friend by taking her to a doctor appointment.  She is trying to minimize her expenses so she can stay at this senior living community she loves.  He doctor can sign off that she is in need of assisted living and she can, instead of having her own apartment at over $2000 per month, have a roommate in assisted living (as opposed to independent living where she is now) and pay half.

Being around her I can tell her these tales of woe and she is utterly entertained by my 'man friends' as she calls them.  She remembers only enough to ask if any of my Man Friends have called when she sees me about once a week. 

She puts things into perspective for me and she kind of lightens my load by making what seems seedy and disappointing a funny night out instead.  Her situation makes me appreciate mine a little more and we like each other.


Tonight I agreed to visit with a friend I've known for a very long time.  He, like the one I am no longer friends with, challenges my willingness to be his friend.  He's good for a few a few coffee/catching up visits, then he goes to that, let's be more than friends thing.  I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but I don't feel special when he does this.  I feel like I'm a thread he pulls when he's lonely and feeling like a failure.  I get it, wanting to break that cycle and make a good life.  But he's not the guy for me, he screwed that up many years ago.  Hell, he frustrates our friendship.  We've never had sex and I think he'd like to see if his idea of having sex with me lives up to reality.  I assured him it wouldn't.

Now...

Just me.

I cut my fringe.  My bangs.  Short.  As typical, I liked them at first, now I am over it and now I get to wait for them to grow out.  They'd gotten to a point I liked and in a hormonal misguided burst of hyper-focus and shears in hand I cut them.
Last night I colored my hair.  An old formula I used to use a few levels lighter.  While my color was pretty before, I felt a little washed out. So I colored it, covering the highlight a girlfriend did that I wasn't in love with.

Essentially, I am taking my stress out on my hair.  I don't look terrible but I'm not loving it, probably due to my bangs.

I feel worn out...and as follows, I'd just love to get a break from it all.  I crave to have some sense of the life I've always wanted while fighting off  becoming jaded and convinced it'll never even come close, that I am somehow destined to be surrounded by crazy.

And yet, Life is Beautiful.

Fury says, Yeah keep telling yourself that sap.

She was right too.  I just got off the phone with the school psychologist.  She's great, but she also just inundated me with resources after having me run-down the last year and a half an some of my concerns regarding my son.

Calgon, take me away.  Oh wait, I have to hustle, I need to get ready to pick up my friend for her doctor appointment.  

Roy Orbison - Only The Lonely (A Black & White Night)

I would have loved to have added this to the post below.  Haven't worked that out yet.

Dis Pretty Woman

I am having a Roy Orbison kind of day.  Damn it, truth be told, I have a Roy Orbison kind of life.  And none of the happy shit he wrote songs about either.  I am Tragedy.  I am well suppressed Fury.  I am tired. 

I came here today to delete this account.  To delete it an create a new one.  To slip even further into anonymity.  To disassociate myself from what I'd wanted this blog to be...a place to chart to growth after death visited my life so personally.  A place where I could watch myself bloom with new life and purpose.  Well, I missed the mark on that.

I will always be the first to admit I am damn naive.  This 42 year old woman, mother of two teenaged sons...well, I'm done.  I may still be naive, but I am sad to admit I think I have become angry, distrustful, disenfranchised, my heart is becoming disabled.  I am become Jaded.  Sadly I can't even write herewith  that 'Cool Cat Jaded' like Winnona Rider in all her cheesy intellectual type-cast roles in the eighties and nineties.  Non of that feverish, spanked fresh writing for me.  No.  No I don't gracefully step fort on the page, I stumble drunkenly miserabl.  Here I vomit up my frustrations.  I'm not even cool enough to get faded, Bukowski-like, and blow others away with raw visceral truths.

Instead I am whiner.  A feeble-minded moaner on the page.  A sad and stumbling victim of my own pathetic life.

Last night I had the great displeasure of crying myself to sleep.  Triggered by my thirteen year old son.  He loves his penis more than his education or my sanity.  He's a terrible person.  No really.  It's not just being thirteen years old, though my seventeen year old was just awful then too.  My youngest son excels at being awful.  He lies, he sneaks, he steals, he neglects.  He is brilliant.  He is that guy that flies under the wire.  He has super powers.  I swear he does.  He seems to be in training for super villainy.  And he does all this with big blue 'deer in headlights' eyes and smile.

I want to smack him.

I suppose he'll just get to repeat eighth grade at another junior high (the one he attends now was due to our previous address and I did an intra-district transfer for him to stay at the one he is failing miserably at now), our address feeds into this other junior high and high school campus,  It is an elitist high school where doctors, layers, and other very upper class $800,000+ home owners demand results for their privileged and spoiled children growing up in the pressure cooker of success.  I don't care now if he's thrown to the wolves of the upper social class.  Please don't think I am being 'judgy' now... I have friends and their children matriculate there and it's awful, mean, and clicky.  Fact, one of the counselors informed my friend that the school could be brutal socially.  That in no way should a gay young adult be open about their orientation at that school.  Now Ian says he isn't gay (her children aren't either, the counselor was just making a very disturbing point) but my sons behavior often sets him apart in negative ways.   My kid and his awkward refusal to conform would likely make him a target there and make his life a little miserable as well.  You see, he likes to wear that big target on his back these days.  Now instead of wanting to protect him I kind of feel this instead, Screw him.

I've been nearly sweating over his transition to high school.  The one our address requires him to go to is the one I mentioned above.  There is another I could use my work address for, but I am not so sure it isn't about the same.  I could use my mother-in-laws address and send him where my oldest son goes but I'd really rather avoid that as my son established himself in negative ways with other students he went went to elementary school with and frankly they were just as bad as the elitist kids I am worrying about.  There seems to be no middle road for me to choose.  At this point I am so frustrated with him I want what's easy for me.  He can bus to and from the school our address feeds into and if  he pulls his head out of his ass long enough to take advantage of what this campus has to offer and stops acting like a dick he might make something of it.  High school sucks for most people except those that peak there.  I realize that.  However, I am not wishing any Pretty in Pink scenario on my son.  The district lines were redrawn about two years ago.  The school he's in now, and its feeder high school where where he wants to be, and I wanted him to be (minus a few friends I'm am so over).

While I spend my time concerned and trying to make a good choice for his next phase in his education I also constantly battle his Défiant le vent.  I now feel if he doesn't care, let the world smack his skinny butt down.

I have had this mentality since my oldest son put me through this.  Sadly it is continually shocking to me how schools operate.  Syllabuses I have to sign, my son has to sign.  Expectations and consequences.  The convenience of the expectation is there, to make life easy for everyone if he complies.  Yet, no follow through on consequences.  Everyone in his life is teaching him his actions are acceptable.  No One Anywhere holds him to any standard.  Not even their own.

Except me.  Sadly most of the time I am clueless, by choice, as I have been naive enough to expect that a teacher will actually follow their own syllabus.  No, no they do not.  They are simply failing my son and lazily relying on Parent Connect, a good way to stalk your child online, to do their job of informing a parent of their child's doing well or slipping intoa  hellish scholastic purgatory.

Now, they aren't entirely failing at their job, even if they don't follow their own rules, even if the school doesn't follow it's own policies. You see, if my son shows no interest in his own welfare, even if he is proven to be highly intelligent and capable, I agree...why should they put effort into him? 

My cluelessness by choice isn't because I don't care but because this is the safest time in my sons life for him to learn the consequences of his actions and not end up with him on the street.  My frustration is this, I'd like his teachers to follow their own rules.  Yet, silly me...they already are teaching him the ways of the world.

He is being given enough rope to hang himself.

Hang he will.

I care you see.  I care a great deal.  I care so much I had taken my hands off.  Unfortunately I waited until the burner of my son was red hot to touch it again.  I regret it.  Our home life has been hellish for the last week and a half because I decided to 'parent connect' and realized he is doing horribly and I have receive no communication at all.  Then I concluded, well, you read that already.

If I were as intelligent as my son I would have simply informed his teachers to go ahead and fail him and let him repeat eighth grade on our home address campus instead of his intra-district transfer. They can simply do what they are already doing, hands off, let him hang.  He can do it over next year on another campus.  Not our problem.

This school district doesn't like that much though.  They are elitist in general.  Excellence!  My son tests well, but his everyday performance?  It sucks.  Well, his penis knows he gets an A+++.

He was wanting me to send him to the feeder school for the junior high he is now because of one particular (he said) friend. As I mentioned above.  However I think he wants his little group of misfits, his bestie Stephanie.  I saw her for the first time.  Scary.  That he identifies with her freaks me right out.  My first impression of her was So Cal (DogTown) surfer, skater boy.  I thought she was a boy.  Then I realized who she was when I was in a meeting with him and his English/US History teacher they all came up to the window and made faces and acted like chimpanzees let out for recess.

I realize he's thirteen, and probably mostly typical. But for the ADHD and behavioral issues and lack of filter and love of things inappropriate and preferably sexual in nature.

I'm just tired of all the shit I've been through with him the last several years.  I'm worn out.  Every time I think think we hit a place that is going to smooth out a bit I get kicked in the gut and there is no Village willing to help me, and I have been reaching out damn it.

I didn't put down most of what I am dealing with...I am still slogging through.  And I am slogging through it alone.

I'll admit this, alone is daunting.  Alone is weighty.  Alone is terrifying.  I have learned very acutely, alone is better.

Occam's Razor.  There is no village for me.  I finally realized it Sunday the second of March.   Wicked March and it's cruel curses and truths.

My mother-in-law put it clearly.  I am surrounded by crazy.  I come from crazy.  Somehow it skipped me personally, but it is to me like iron to the magnet.

I am slowly working on demagnetizing myself. 

A Slow Roll

Recently I went to a concert.  While standing in line with my sister waiting to be ushered in at will call things were fairly mundane.  The people watching was holding off the boredom until I saw three men I've had sex with.

"Iiiiiiiii need a drink, now."   A sudden low grade anxiety attack began to creep its way into my chest.  I'd like to point out, these incidents of intimacy happened 22 years ago with two, and 10 years ago, or so with the other.

The first ex-lover I saw was at the wee beginnings of my divorce.  This was Mr. 10 years or so ago.  It was O-V-E-R with my ex and I was bar tending and  he looked like Vin Diesel and ended up possibly being some of the best sex I have ever had.  It was a fun and a very short lived time.  I felt freed from what I was leaving behind and knew exactly how it would play out.  I didn't want anything from him as far as commitment of any kind.  We had respect for one another and for the first time in my life I'd encountered someone I was completely uninhibited with sexually.

Soon after seeing Mr. 10 years or so ago, I look up and see the first person I met when I moved to this area, he was also my boyfriend for about two years.  It's not the first time he's just shown up and thrown me off balance in the last year, I know I throw him off balance too but we always avoided each other after the polite hello, maybe make weird eye contact with each other a few times.  He was WITH the third guy... right?!? Someone I've kind of still had a dim spark for even though I was furious with him when we stopped seeing each other.  The catalyst, I made a sandwich.  He said, with a an awed expression, "That is Exactly how I would make a sandwich." I think it freaked him out that we had so much in common.  In fact he said it did.  I'll admit, at times it was almost twin-like.  And in his defense I did start going to a cult-like church.  hmm.  He just stopped seeing me but he told a bunch of people in our little ghetto neighborhood of cool about us sleeping together.  Kiss & Tell is sort of a pet peeve of mine so I was insulted and furious and never did stop secretly liking him a little.  I did not speak to him after that, I didn't speak to him that night even though at one point he was only feet away from me. Another secret... I really wanted to talk to him.  I'd sort of daydreamed about it.  I.  Am.  Pathetic.

The first guy noticed me right away, he was acting as one of the bouncers at the club.  Yep.  He Pretended like he didn't remember me and I actually found that incredibly entertaining. So did my sister.  Men and their egos can be very strange.

My ex-boyfriend and I ended up dancing and having a really great time.  He's puts me off balance, yes, but he's always been able to bring out a very carefree and wildly untamed side of me.  I think one of the last times I danced was with him.  Sad, right?

He's in a difficult place with his wife, they are recently separated.  I know I probably sound heartless, but, all I wanted to do was dance with him.  Have fun. Get a little connection and closure to the way we'd ended. Create a path to less weirdness.  We'd really been friends more than boyfriend and girlfriend.  And we d
Danced.  We were always good together like that.  Oh! Bonus, and Fury still gets a thrilling tingle at the memory, when he and I hit the dance floor I saw Eddie, right there.  You know, the guy that kissed me but his life is full of drama, but that kiss sort of surfaced me from the grief I was drowning in and the passion I was convinced was Dead and Gone with John's passing?  Yes, That Eddie.   I smiled and gave a giddy wave.  I realized shortly after he was just sitting on the wall with the Acquisitions and Mergers girlfriend he and I had spoken about.  Oops.  Well, I focused on my happy time dancing and several times caught Eddie looking on with major envy.  I am not being egotistical in this observation.  He Was.  It was really wonderful and my evil side I never let come out to play was really pleased.  Fury has a bazaar sense of humour, but we get along and I am starting to let her out more.

My ex and that nights dance partner messaged me right after I left the club.  He was at Denny's... he let me know he was still reeling from seeing me.  I can't be sure.  He peppered me with many messages which I attempted to respond to.  I was flattered but a little suspicious and I kind of played along because I'd had fun.  He's always been rather cryptic and calculating so anything he says or writes can be mistaken by the receiver in my opinion.  So I took some time the next day in the evening after work to answer and ask for clarity.  I was long winded and when he finally responded it kind of pissed me off, because he didn't.  He asked me a question I'd already answered.  I later found out that question is his test question.  I ain't got time for that! Hell no am I wasting my time on this crap.  And for a few hours it dimmed my fun time memories.  But I was able to shake if off and find myself smiling at the fun I had.  It is a difficult practice I am working hard to make a pleasant and happy habit.

I was very surprised the next day when he called.  I expected him to just disappear after that.  I missed the call.  He left a message sounding disappointed.  He called the day after that  and I'd missed it again.  I'd change my ringtone but missing calls is another thing I am practicing.  We ended up talking about everything, some in depth, some just barely worthy of having been mentioned.  We spoke until after 1pm.

I know this place he is in.  His wife and he will be far apart.  She is giving him the slow roll, and he's like a focused arrow.  He's going to hit the mark.  If you get in his way, you will be cut to pieces and his trajectory will not lesson or alter.

I remember that about him and honestly I really like his wife even understanding her issues in their marriage.  Everyone has issues, from their past, from things in the marriage, from insecurities, from a desire to control some aspect of their life.

They are at an impasse.  I hope they get through it.  To hear him tell of their beginnings though... and his version of things, and honestly he's always been fairly equal in his assessments of both parties responsibility and his intractability and assertiveness, I'm not sure this year break with them in different countries and seeing each other during set times for his visitation with his kids will work in their favor.  The Mexican Stand-Off, slow rolling each other waiting for one to give in...  I recognize that 'moving on while still almost holding on' thing.  It's like watching a natural disaster build.  You're waiting for the inevitable.  In regard to a marriage ending I think it is just that way though.  Now, I could easily picture myself in a relationship with him, the happy he and I picture.  Hell, I have history and experience as building materials.  Honestly, I could fit seamlessly into his plan.  The partnership would be sublime, except for his being sort of a domineering asshole at times.  I can't picture the ex's and handful of step children in that picture clearly.  Hey, I visualize frequently as practice so don't read too much into that.  No, seriously. *I'm laughing

The plain, stripped down, simple truth is, I am uncomfortable with the whole thing.  While I am grateful for a perfect night of fun and the little bit of connection and little bit of closure, I don't want to be in the position of being this person he confides in.  I don't want to be an emotional surrogate friend/wife and I'm afraid I am finding myself at the beginning of that.  I want to be the first person to pull back, to say No.  To establish self respect and boundaries and a kind of nice to have seen you bitchiness sort of way.  However my instincts say we will simply just stop talking, as we started.  Like an accident.  We collided.  Then we Uncollide.  I had dropped this on him, just not in a definitive way.  Like lost man in the dark he'll follow the light if I keep presenting it, even if it is merely electronic contact.  No, not the sex hotline electronic contact thing.  

Again, here's another little lesson magnifying how easily the pitfalls appear.  I am so proud of myself I am recognizing them quickly and extracting myself from them more quickly and moving on and not mentally chewing on them as long anymore.  I'd like to get to the point where I am aware enough, blunt enough, maybe fast enough at the wheel to steer clear of them all-together.  I have always had supreme reflexes while driving.  Even when someone else is I warn of problems up ahead.

I'd like to get to this point in my own personal life.

22 years and a perfect night... I almost wish it had ended at that, but I am happy about some of the things we talked about last night.