To my ex, on Christmas Eve:

Dear Ex,

It feels weird calling you that, since it's not official yet, and I am still wearing this damn ring that I can't get off my finger because it's so damn fat and swollen from all the stress. I think as a present to myself for New Year's I am going to have it cut off to start the new year out fresh. To rid myself of the constant memory of the vows you took so lightly. To continue to wear it feels like living a lie to me, and I, unlike you, am not a good liar.

It is Christmas Eve, and I have just finished doing all the things for the kids - our kids - that we used to do together: decorating the kitchen, making up their "goody bags," making the breakfast foods for tomorrow. All the traditions that we started when they were toddlers and made our very own. I know our son is actually a little old for some of it, but he's the very one who would be upset if it wasn't done exactly the same as every year before.

We've had a hard day here. Your daughter has been miserable and angry all day because she didn't have many new toys to play with "because Daddy took them all to his place." I'm not really sure if that's the truth or not, but that's her perception of it, and because, unlike M. who speaks his mind about everything, she didn't speak up when you took them and is very angry and sad. It's hard for a child to have their stuff spread out at two houses, as M. noticed last week when he ran to the garage to get his bike and realized it wasn't there because it was at your place.

I think it is finally sinking in with A. that you are not coming back. She helped decorate the "Happy Birthday Jesus" cake, and I thought she did a great job, especially for her first time, but of course she was not happy with it and had a meltdown. I told her how proud I was and how happy that she could do so much of it now that she is older, and how next year she could do even more, and she replied that it didn't make any difference, because "Daddy still won't be here next year, either." I think she gets it. I guess you are off the hook from ever having to tell her outright. Lucky you.

I wondered if you were waiting on them to call you tonight, with it being Christmas Eve and all, so I asked them three different times if they wanted to call you, and each time they wanted to "finish what we're doing," or "maybe later", etc., etc. I hope you don't think I am trying to keep them from you in any way, but I am not going to force them to call. You've made your choices, and I am letting them make theirs.

My parents are here, and my narcissistic mother went on the attack again today and it was more than I could bear. I really hate you for leaving me alone with nobody to love me but them - no brothers or sisters, no cousins or close family nearby, just a really unhealthy, emotionally unstable mother who I've worked so hard to get free from. They left tonight before the kids went to bed, even though I asked them not to. Even though I didn't want to be alone on Christmas Eve doing all these things by myself. They are no support emotionally whatsoever. Thanks for nothing.

I just have to know. Are you happy? Is this what you really wanted? You are alone on Christmas Eve as well, I suspect, because even your internet "friends" probably have real lives and real family obligations tonight, unless they've up and left their spouses and kids, too. How does it feel? Is it what you expected? How you always fantasized? Or are you over at your place drunk off your ass numbing your own pain, like you always find some way to do? I guess I'll never really know, will I, because you'll just continue to wear that same damn mask with me, and let me think this is the best thing you've ever done, and remind me once again how long you've waited to do it.

But I'm going to be honest. I'm going to say that every day you are away your children have less and less to say to you; that even if I can't depend on my parents, somehow I will survive this without you; and that next Christmas will have to be better than this one. Please God, I hope so.

I hate to say it, but...

I miss the jerk. It's Christmas, and I'm lonely, and I'm furious at him for leaving, but I still have an ache in my heart for my best friend. Or at least what I thought was my best friend.

He did the SuperDad thing again yesterday, and showed up to both kids' Christmas parties at school, and to our daughter's cheer practice, and it was almost more than I could take. All of that "togetherness," trying to share time with our children, yet not really being together as a family. How am I going to do this for the rest of my life? It's so painful. Will it always hurt this much? What about when he brings his new girlfriend/wife along one day? Will I have to leave the room crying? Will I still be able to slap on my happy face and pretend it doesn't bother me?

At my daughter's cheer class yesterday they had a little "mini-recital" in the practice room to show what they have learned so far, and I tried to sit next to a friend on the opposite end from him, but there wasn't room, so they brought in more chairs and we ended up having to sit side by side. The little show was cute, of course, and try as I might, I couldn't help but make comments to him about it, and about our daughter and various things she has said about her class. Then at one point he leaned back and started to put his arm behind me and stopped - catching himself and realizing what he was doing. And that was the most painful thing of all. It just seemed so natural, just like always - sitting and watching our child together, talking together, etc. My god, we've been together over half our lives. Why all of a sudden are we not anymore? Why all the anger and the hateful comments about "the last 5 years"? I just feel like I'm dealing with a split personality sometimes because he can be so cruel and ugly one day and so normal and nice like I always knew him the next.

I love that he tried to put his arm around me because it helps me to know that a lot of the hateful things he's been saying aren't true. Yet I hate it at the same time, because it hurt so much for him to stop, and to remember where we are today and will be from now on.

He was my lover, my best friend, my soul mate...he could "talk me off the cliff" when I would freak out over things, he helped me deal with my parents, we lost our first baby together and buried her together...we have 20 years of history together that I don't know what to do with now.

I know deep down that I deserve better. I know that he has done a horrible thing. Not just once, but multiple times. I know that I should feel angry and forget about him. But for right now, for this moment, I miss him so much my heart hurts.

It's all about him

I still have moments of utter disbelief at my situation in life. How did I end up here? How did we get from this summer, laughing and having a wonderful (or so I thought) family vacation in the Magic Kingdom to this hell we are in now? It's still like a bad dream that I hope to wake from but never do and never will.

And he never fails to remind me that he has been waiting 5 years to do this. Is that not the cruelest thing to say? To wipe away all of my good memories of the last five years? To make me doubt everything I thought real for most of my daughter's entire life? To feel sick at the thought of every one of her precious baby pictures, videos, mementos - all tainted now because the reality was that her daddy was planning his escape all along? What a selfish, evil thing to do. I just can't get over the monster he has become.

And yet I'm going to have to deal with this monster for the rest of my life. He will never go away. Never say goodbye. Never leave me alone. Never be completely gone from my life. Not only that, but I have to turn my precious babies over to him and watch his selfishness hurt them. And the mother bear in me just can't take it.

He let is slip tonight that my son has repeatedly told him that he hates him. And he wants to know why, what he is doing that upsets him, etc., and how to smoothe it all over and make it better. Does he not understand? Is he so naive? How can he not see that he has broken his son's heart - that he's no longer his son's hero anymore? He is so self-centered he just doesn't understand the pain he is causing! Even when I try to tell him how hard it is for them, he says, "Well, I know, because I know how much I'm missing them." Well, no kidding - but it was his choice! "They didn't have a choice - they were left behind," I say, "but I chose to leave you," he says, "not them." Right. Like their little minds can understand that. And then he reminds me how he stayed for "last 5 years," (like it was a punishment) "to get them to a stage where it would be easier on them." What the hell? How is 8 and 6 any easier on anyone? Is there ever an age that's easier for your daddy to abandon you?

Every sentence that comes out of his mouth is all about how he feels, how much he misses them, how hard it was for him for five years, how hard it is for him now, etc., etc., etc. I just want to scream! I have never in my life heard such selfish nonsense. But then of course, he ends it with, "But I just want to do what's best for the kids." Right. Like he really has their best interests at heart. How can I protect my children from this selfish idiot? Because we all know it's not about them - it's all about him right now. And it may be like this for the rest of their lives.

The Play in the Audience

Well, tonight was my 3rd grade son's Christmas play at school, and per his request, I had to sit with The Jerk and pretend like everything was just fine. It was the most awkward situation ever - arriving in separate cars; sitting there with our daughter together as a family, yet not really together, never saying more than a few words to each other; finding our son afterwards to congratulate him and take his picture; and The Jerk's quick departure, leaving the three of us to drive home alone again.

I just don't think he had any idea when he left how much his departure would cause the three of us to bond together so tightly. I remember at one point before he left when I made a comment about him "leaving us" and he got very angry and replied, "Don't say that! I'm not leaving the kids, I'm leaving our marriage!" It made no sense whatsoever, and showed how screwed up his thinking is. And now that he's been gone awhile, and I've seen how we've had to join together in a "team effort" approach for survival, I realize he's the one that's left out, and I almost feel sorry for him. Isn't that crazy? Why would I even think that? It's just that it's not something I expected to happen, but thank God that it has. My children have clung to me for security and love, and they seem to know that what their daddy is doing is wrong, without my ever saying anything.

Take tonight, for example. I just assumed that my daughter would use the opportunity with her daddy to climb in his lap and have some cuddle time with him during the play, since she doesn't get to see him much, and I was so worried about how I was going to handle the emotions that it would bring up in me. But the exact opposite happened. She spent the entire time in my lap, snuggling, and kissing me, and I so enjoyed every minute of our time together, and it wasn't stressful at all, but beautiful and sweet.

Yes, the three of us are weathering some pretty strong emotional storms together around here, and he is missing out. Yet when they go to his house, they feel pressured to slap on a happy face and "have fun!" no matter how they feel, because that's what he expects them to do. The silly, "let's play!" mentality doesn't match what they feel inside, nor what they know to be true, so they feel frustrated and angry, and by the time they get home, they are exhausted from wearing the mask for so long. Why can't he just be a dad instead of trying so hard to be a 13-year old playmate? Why can't he just let them be real, instead of trying to make them feel something they're not?

I know what it's like to wear a mask, and it's so miserable. And I'm tired of wearing one out in public many days when I see people we've known for years and they ask how I'm doing, and I lie and say "fine." Do they really want to know? Because I'd be glad to tell them, but then they start to look really uncomfortable. They don't want to know that we've been living in separate houses for the last month and are on our way to a divorce. Isn't that sad? Sad that we live in such an isolated world where we all wear masks, and nobody knows or cares about our pain. And I know I'm not the only one in the audience in pain, either. I bet if I could see into the homes of many of the "perfect families" tonight, I would see that there's a lot of pain, but people are so damn private about it.

I bet there were a lot of masks on in the audience tonight. More than on the stage. I know my family had them on. We were putting on our own play in the audience. I wonder how we did. Was anybody fooled?

My Alone-aversary

Well, it looks like I am finally back online, and hopefully this *&^# modem will not conk out on me like the last 2 have. I have had an unbelievable few weeks, with everything from computer problems to a new dog with allergies!

And yes, as you can see by the title, yesterday was one tough day, as I reached the 10th, which marked one month since The Jerk moved out. I had no idea it would hit me as hard as it did, but it was quite miserable. In one sense it has gone by incredibly fast, as each day is overwhelming, with so much to do and not enough time to get it all done, thus I stay up until 2 a.m. and wake at 6:30. But on the other, it seems that he's been gone forever, and it can't have only been one month.

I think the thing that is hardest about the death of a marriage is that there is no goodbye. I never got one final hug, one last goodbye and then it's done. I just keep having to deal with him over and over, and the anger and yuck just keeps coming back up like acid in my throat. Will it ever go away? I have really had to set some boundaries for myself with him lately, as he is so much farther along in this process, and so completely detached, that he has no clue (or just doesn't give a rip!) how much some of these interactions are hurting me. For example, he is taking the kids to his parents' house 4 hours away for the weekend before Christmas for 3 nights, and I've reluctantly agreed, with the understanding that I'll have them for the rest of Christmas. But he has a pickup truck, and I have an SUV that we just bought 2 weeks prior to his moving out. So he had the nerve to ask to take the SUV so that there would be more room for the kids' presents, etc. (and I bet he wanted the convenience of the t.v., I'm sure). So I had to think about that a bit, because, after all, he is still the one making the payments on both vehicles. But you know what? That SUV is my safe place. It is one of the few places I can go that I know for a fact that he didn't email or talk on the phone to his "friend," whereas almost every other room in my house has been violated. Plus, since the SUV was so new when he left and he rarely drove it, there are almost no memories of him associated with it, yet my house is full of memories - from the dishes I use (wedding gift), to the comforter that I bought when I was trying to spice up our sex life. There's no way I want him driving my car! So I told him that, and I have to say, although I could tell he thought I was nuts, he at least listened, and respected my boundary about it, and it felt good to express it.

I guess I'm just continually amazed at how quickly he has flipped the switch. How easily he has moved from being together to being apart, when I'll be reading something and think, "Wow, The Jerk would enjoy hearing about this!" and then remember that we don't speak anymore. How does someone just throw away 20 years of history? Obviously he had disconnected a long time ago and I just didn't know it, which makes me feel even more stupid for not seeing the signs. Of course, now in retrospect, I realize a lot of things I should have seen. But who knew? He has even said that he has been "emotionally divorced" for years. Gee. Why didn't someone let me know? I'm just now going on a month. The most painful month of my life.

It's unofficially official

I am officially christening this blog "The Scarlet D", to remain as such, as I am now 99% sure that I will be getting a divorce in the next year. I had wavered there for a bit on the blog name, wondering if I had moved too soon in assuming the worst, but no, The Jerk is, indeed as much a jerk as I was afraid. We met for lunch today (my idea) to discuss a variety of subjects, most notably the issue that I want to remove his name from the credit cards of which I am the primary holder. (A smart move, I've been told, in case he goes crazy and drives us even further into debt, I will let him do it on his primary cards and not on mine.)

The whole lunch experience did not go well, as I was not as strong as I had hoped to be and teared up a bit, and then I just had to ask, "So...this six-month thing...is it just to let me down easy?" And his reply, "Not originally - it wasn't, but now, I guess it's just to give you time to get a job and get settled and all." So there you have it. I knew deep down that this was coming, yet actually hearing the words still cut me to the core. I guess I wanted the power. I wanted to be the one to say them. I didn't want to be a pity case that he had to "let down gently." I want him to be miserable, and lonely, and stressed, and on the same sickening roller coaster that I've been on for the last 3 weeks.

As I drove home and cried, I just kept thinking, "I'm going to be a divorced woman. I'm going to be a 'single mom.'" I guess I just grew up thinking this would never happen to me. And now I guess I owe an explanation of my blog name. When I was growing up, my mother, who is extremely judgemental of others, always used to speak of certain women as "Oh, she's di-VORCED," with a raised eyebrow and a tone of indignation. I live in the south in the Bible belt, and it has taken me many years to learn that guilt and shame is not what life in general (and Christianity in particular) is all about. That there's another side to it all - a side of grace and unconditional love and freedom that I never knew existed. Yet what you grow up with is often so ingrained into your thinking that certain words are tainted forever, and for me, "divorced" and "single mom" are two of them. So when it occurred to me that I might become one, my first reaction was to feel a huge wave of guilt and shame. I imagined spending the rest of my life walking around marked, like Hester Prynne, with a scarlet letter "D" on my chest for all the world to see, exposing my sin and shame.

And to some extent the thought of the future scares me enough that I still feel that way just a bit, but not as much anymore. I know that society doesn't see me that way, but what matters is how I see myself. And that is what I must work on for now.