Happy Fucking New Year

My new year started out on the most awesome note ever.

At midnight I kissed the man I love. Fell asleep in his arms feeling loved, woke up in his arms felling loved. New years day was spent in his presence. All day. It was great. We lounged and watched movies and almost all of season 2 of "Heroes". We made dinner together. Ok so he reheated some left over stew and I put a bagged salad in a bowl, but still it was nice. That night EZ picked me up because she wanted to get me and the rest of the girls from our Sunday night women's group together. I kissed Bruce* good-bye and we exchanged I Love Yous.

We went to this great little bar that we had never tried before. The service was excellent and the drinks were plentiful (thanks EZ!). She wanted to get us together to tell us that she would be leaving the group. Her life is in a bit of turmoil and can't dedicate the time needed for it. fuck that sucks.

Friday was spent with my son. I had thought I would be going back to spend the rest of the weekend with Bruce* but he had to work Friday and was very tired when he got home and so the decision was made to take a break. That's cool. I understand how hard he works and he was supposed to be off on Friday and ended up having to work.

Friday night Baby Daddy gets home (remember we still live together) and he starts in on this long stupid redundant emotional conversation about if there is or was ever a chance for our relationship to work. He accuses me of making a fool of him by dating guys and having a boyfriend. It is mentally exhausting. We are up till 2 am going back and forth, back and forth. oh and lets please add that at some point that day my Dr. called me to tell me that I need schedule a procedure because my last Pap came back bad. That it is one of two things. HPV or cervical cancer and they need to take more cultures. That sucks fucking donkey balls.

Saturday morning I wake to find that Baby Daddy called in sick to work. I'm not even up 10 minutes and he starts in on all the same shit again. all fucking day. And I had no where to escape to. Bruce* wasn't returning my text messages or my phone calls. My family was all at work. same with my friends. all fucking day I had to listen to his selfish diatribe on how no one really cares about him and there is nothing worth living for in the world, and we were doomed from the very get go.

At 7 pm my sister shows up and rescues me. We are headed out to my mom's birthday dinner. Finally Bruce* calls me back. He was with his brother and his phone died. Hey that's cool happens all the time. Then he says:
"We need to get together tomorrow. We need to have a talk"
Me (with a joke in my voice): "This isn't a bad talk is it?"
Bruce: "eh"
Me: "um ok, well I'm headed out to my mom's birthday dinner. I'll talk to ya tomorrow. Love you"
Bruce: "mmm"
Me: "oh well ok I'll see you tomorrow"

Now I'm fucking worried. You see never once since he told me loved me has he failed to reply to my declaration of love. fucking great. I spent the rest of the evening so worried and emotional that I couldn't really get into the festivities of my mother's birthday. I think I slept maybe 2 hours.

Sunday morning. I wait... and wait.... and wait. finally Bruce calls me to say he was on his way over. DJ decides that he wants to go to the little park in side of my complex. so we go. Bruce meets us there. We make idle conversation while watching DJ play. Finally I turn to him.

me: "so"
him: "yeah so"
me: "whats going on?"
him: "well..."

And he proceeds to tell me that he doesn't love me. That he has felt this way from the beginning of December, but that he thought it would get better and it hasn't. That he can't afford to date me. I argue this point that if money is a problem we can work around it. we can do more things that require less fundage. that I am going to be getting Childcare assistance finally and that will free up $500 a month for me. But then he tells me that he has seen 4 sides of me and only likes 2 of them. He can't tell me what those sides were that maybe its just in his head. finally I ask what he wants to do. He says there are 2 choices. We can step back to being friends and see if things develop again or we can just cut it off completely. He asks me what I want. I told him that I made my choice. That I want to forget that today ever happened and go back to the way it seemed to be on Thursday night when we kissed good-bye and said I love you. I told him that I had no idea that there was anything wrong. And I didn't. Until the night before when he had called me I thought everything was hunky dory.

After some round and round we finally agree to be friends. He asks me if being friends is going to make us mental. Are we going to wonder about what the other person is doing, who are they seeing, who are they going out with... blah blah.

I laugh and tell him that I deal with being a psycho nut-job everyday. That it won't be any different for me (which is half true).

Me: "how do I say this without sounding like a bitch"
Him: "Probably can't"
Me: "Yeah. So if you don't feel that way about me, how is just being friends going to make you mental"
Him: "I guess your right"

He had all the things I had left at his house in his jeep. I had one of his sweaters at my house. so we exchanged stuff and said good bye.

Most of my friends don't understand how I can stay friends with him. I tell them because I love him enough to just be friends with him. What I don't tell them is that I believe that things will get better and that we will be together again. What I don't tell them is that I believe that my love is enough and that I don't see how it is possible that I can love someone this much and they don't feel even a fraction of the same.

I wrote a very cathartic piece Sunday night. When I need to express I write. I posted it over on my other blog. You can read it by clicking here.

And a little note here for Baby Daddy's Mom:

Cindy I can't believe you went against my wishes and behind my back. Now I have to deal with your psycho son's emotional issues. I hope you are proud of yourself. Life in my house is so full of tension that your grandson hates being at home now. He and I are never going to get back together. There is nothing left in me for him. He exhausted me before we broke up and he still exhausts me. I can't be his mother. You need to be his mother and make him get some fucking help. You are his family you should care enough about him to get him the intervention he needs. I am done with him to the point where I can't even be in the same room with him. he makes me crazier than I already am. I have my own fucking issues to deal with I don't need his as well. So get off your holier than thou fucking pedestal and help your son.

and FUCK anyone who thinks I'm a heartless bitch for feeling this way. I have tried everything my feeble brain can wrap around to help this guy. Now its time for his family to act like a family and help him.


*names have been changed to protect the innocent, the a**holes and the clueless.