Things have been fairly quiet lately.
Actually, they’ve been very quiet.
Once the issue with what The Husband felt he was ‘entitled’ to was sorted out – me telling him what was going to happen, regardless of what he thought – things have been running quite smoothly.
We’re all back volunteering with the organisation we helped to develop last year. It’s now running ‘for real’, it’s not just a test anymore. It’s actually very exciting. I think I’m going to enjoy it a lot more this time because I won’t have the stress of what is going on in my own personal life to worry about, I’ll be able to focus a bit better on the family I’m trying to help.
Having things be so quiet has been a little disconcerting for me. Having The Husband loose his shit at least once a week at me has become something that I’ve gotten used to, that I expect. It’s certainly not something that I wasn’t anticipating when I asked him to move out.
The quiet though…I’ve been waiting for something big to happen. For him to come out with something that he has been saving up, something not before mentioned, which he can throw in my face and make me look like a total fool and feel like a complete idiot.
It hasn’t happened though (touch wood).
Yesterday I think I may have found out why.
He came to pick up The Bean Pole who had decided for the first time to spend two nights in a row at our house. It was amazing! I loved having him home again. I’ve really missed his humour and his intelligence. I haven’t missed the way that he manages to set off The Little Prince like a fire cracker in a matter of minutes and I’m left having to try and calm him down, that I could do without completely.
While The Bean Pole is getting his things together, The Husband asks me how he’s been, if he’s alright, if he’s said anything to me. I’m wondering what the hell he’s on about, why would he not be fine? What on earth could he possibly have to say to me that either of us should be concerned about?
The Bean Pole is concerned because it would appear that his father has developed a more personal relationship with a woman whom he’s known for a while now from her having worked in our local supermarket and he being the sort of person who will talk to anyone, especially women.
It would seem that this woman, let’s call her The Check Out Chick or Triple C for short (can someone please remember that for me because I’ll probably forget), has recently broken up with her long time boyfriend and his family (I’m pretty sure it’s his family) are of the opinion that The Husband had something to do with that break-up.
Apparently, she is quite upset by the entire situation and The Husband has been a great friend to her and her child during their difficult time. In fact, she’s very concerned that her ex-boyfriend is going to do something terrible, like smash her windows and frighten her and her child, so due to this fear, she’s been ringing The Husband and asking to stay at his house.
The Husband is currently living with his brother (a weed smoking, bullshiting dero) and a guy called Dumbo (not his real name and also a weed smoking dero, he doesn’t bullshit like the Brother does though). Both of these poor excuses for human beings are creepy to say the least. Being around them is not a comfortable experience for a woman. Triple C, needless to say is not comfortable staying there but not uncomfortable enough to just not do it. The Husbands brilliant solution to this obviously difficult problem is for her to sleep in his bed. The door stays open so that nobody thinks anything is going on though. I don’t know whether they both sleep under the quilt or one sleeps on top, though it doesn’t really matter does it.
There are two potential problems for The Husband and Triple C in their budding friendship. The first is the ex-boyfriends family, like I mentioned. They are not happy and when they aren’t happy people often end up hurt. Some of these relatives live around the corner from me. Actually, a whole bunch of these relatives live around here. In fact, The Little Prince has developed a friendship with one of the children of these people. This could present some problems for me and my son though I’m fairly confident that nothing will happen in that area.
The second problem is that The Bean Pole is apparently very unhappy with this new friendship. He doesn’t like her staying over and I don’t think he likes his dad having anything to do with her. I’m not even sure if he likes her personally. His not liking her has caused an offshoot problem.
Boxing Day. The Husband has been invited to attend their family BBQ. According to him this is a big deal because it’s very rare that anyone who isn’t family gets invited and an invitation is seen as a token of acceptance. It’s incredibly important. I gather that The Husband want’s to attend, The Bean Pole however does not. He seriously does not want to go. I offered to have him spend the day here if The Husband really wanted to go. No, The Husband says that he needs to understand that there are things in life that he might not want to do but that he’s just going to have to do.
Why he told me all this I have no idea, now that I think about it. He didn’t want me to have The Bean Pole here and there isn’t anything I can do about the family that has developed a grudge against him. I think he was trying to claim that it was to warn me to be careful when it comes to the family around the corner, with their son being all friendly with our son. I honestly can’t see their being a problem their though. About the most they would probably do is stop their son playing with our son. They certainly aren’t going to bash the hell out of an 11 year old.
There was no need for me to know any of this.
I thought about it all quite deeply after he left. I’ve been thinking about it off an on since he told me Wednesday afternoon. I’ve been wondering what feelings I should be having and where they are. I don’t feel jealous. I’m not angry per se. I’m not upset. I don’t feel overly sad.
What I do feel is empty. I feel like I should be jealous. Like I should be angry and upset.
I’m angry that he’s such a fucking hypocrite. He has been giving me untold grief since May that I’ve ruined his life, I’ve torn his heart out and shit all over it (his words, not mine), that I’ve broken our family, that he loves me more than anything, that his entire life is devoted to me and the children, he’s never loved anyone so completely as me etc. etc. Yet, within the space of three months he’s already developed what appears to be an incredibly close relationship with Triple C.
I can’t say with any authority that anything intimate is taking place between them and frankly I don’t care. The point is the friendship is far enough along that he’s sharing his bed with her. He’s had friends of the opposite sex like this before. Maybe not necessarily sharing the bed (except for Cherry, whom we both slept with) but close friendships nonetheless. I’ve always been fairly tolerant of them. The older I got the less angry and jealous I got. I felt that he was entitled to be friends with whomever he chose. As long as that friendship didn’t have an overly negative impact on the rest of the family then I didn’t mind. Unfortunately his compass doesn’t work very well and he rarely notices when his actions are having a detrimental effect on anyone else. If I were to have a guy with whom I was close friends with right now, he would completely freak out. Miss Independent told a woman, who mentioned that she thinks I will have found my ‘Mr Right’ by this time next year, that it wouldn’t be possible for that to happen, her dad would kill him. When this woman laughed, she said, “No, I’m being serious, he will kill him.” She’s right, he’s told me that, he’s told the children that and given his unpredictable nature, I can’t say with any certainty that he won’t. He’s a hypocrite, a complete and total fucking hypocrite.
I’m sad that I don’t feel any of the emotions that I thought, despite all my protestations otherwise, that I would feel. Jealousy, regret, disappointment. I don’t feel any of those. I sat on the end of my bed tonight and I thought of all the years that we were together, our children, how much I loved him and now, he’s talking about another woman only three months after leaving our home and I feel nothing. I feel sad that I don’t feel sad.
You know what I do think about though, this is pathetic but it’s the truth…I wonder if she’s better looking than I am. Does she have better hair, is her face freckle free, does she have a better body, one without that bit of extra skin from having four children and four caesarean sections, are her boobs full and perky unlike mine which have sustained four children somewhere in the order of five or six years total, his voice light and clear, does she smile and laugh like I hadn’t around him for such a long time, can she make him smile and laugh, genuine smiles and genuine laughter, like I don’t think he’s done for a long time, is she or is she going to sleep with him, love him in a way that I’ve not for a while or possibly ever. That’s what I’ve been thinking about, that is what is truly bothering me. The fact that those things bother me bothers me because it doesn’t bother me because I’m jealous or I care, it’s purely selfish. I don’t want him to have better, I want him to always remember what he had and how he lost it. How he took it for granted. I want him to always compare every other woman to me and to always find them wanting.
And after 24 hours of careful examination, of just letting my feelings flow and then pulling them out to study each one on it’s own merit, putting it back in and looking at them all in their entirety, I’ve discovered that the overwhelming emotions I have are spite and selfishness. Twenty years and it’s reduced to this.
I hate saying , writing or thinking it, it actually makes me cringe but it would appear that the right decision has been made.
