Adieu, World. I say Adieu.

But, now, Jetson has another role in life. On Monday, Texter brought over his daughters to meet Jetson. I, of course, was secondary in this whole arrangement. Okay, not really, but they were so excited to get to play with a dog. We took everyone to a nearby park, and they got to throw the ball and play with him. The kids and Jetson had a blast. The girls even wanted to take turns walking him. The funny part about that is the youngest is probably the same height as Jetson when he stands up. But, she did a great job.

We stopped at Sonic, got dinner for everyone (even Jetson), and then went back to my house. We just played some more, ate, and hung out. Overall, I thought the first meeting of the kids went well. There were a few times I could tell they weren’t sure what to call me (Soap, Ms. Soap), so most of the time I was “her”. And that’s fine… I can understand the confusion. Texter and I kept a distance between us, and did not show the girls anything… we kept it very friendly. At one point, the oldest came up to me, kissed her and and put on my cheek. Talk about a seal of approval!!!

Since Monday, Texter has told me of at least 3 times in which the daughters have asked if they can come to my house and play with Jetson. This is the first weekend Texter has the girls since they met me and I believe I will actually get to see them this weekend. The girls are fabulous… and he’s a wonderful dad. I’m interested in seeing what happens next.

Why? Because there is still the “Ex Factor”. Texter’s Ex knows about me. Doesn’t like me based solely on principle. And the fact I have a dog (she’s allergic). So, I will fully admit I’m concerned what she’ll feed the oldest daughter or try to say to convince them not to like me. I’ll deal with it as it comes, but since I’m not being introduced immediately as “Daddy’s girlfriend,” maybe that will help. We’ll see…

Nothing happened. In fact, I drank too much and had to called Texter to come get me. And that’s when the self-loathing started. I am not proud of what I had done and not happy with the choices I had made. I embarrassed myself in front of colleagues/co-workers, and yes, in the end, I actually thought about following through with one of them.

I spent the next hour or so crying on my floor. Apparently, in my inebriated state, I told Texter about said come on and said thought. And the worst part about all of this is that he is disappointed in me. Although, I’m pretty sure I’m more disappointed in myself. (Hence, the self-loathing.)

I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to do that again. Texter is the most amazing man I’ve ever had the chance to be involved with. Why on earth would I want to risk losing him?

I really don’t. Perhaps last night’s thought was a moment of weakness. Or, perhaps it’s just an old habit kicking in. The question posed to me a few days ago was if I was afraid of commitment. I do think, perhaps, that is definitely part of it. The other problem is that I’m not entirely sure I know how to be in a monogamous relationship. Thinking back on the last 10 years, I’m not sure I’ve ever had one.

So, as I pour myself back into bed this afternoon, I will still be pondering the thought of how to move forward. But, I know this much: I love Texter. I do not want to lose him. He is good for me and I think I am good for him. I have found myself opening up for him in ways I didn’t think I could. We are a good team. And I need to change any and all behavior to not risk losing him.

In a large metropolitan city, at a small international company, there were three women. At one time, these ladies did not get along. But, after a while, they all found common ground in which they became friends. One lady was an executive assistant, wife and mother of 2. We’ll call her Mandy. One lady was an executive assistant, wife and mother of 1. We’ll call her Candy. And the third was a department manager and wife. We’ll call her Soap.

As these three women became friends, one common topic of conversation was marriage. Soap’s husband had just left to move 2,000 miles away. Candy and her husband very rarely got along. And Mandy… well, it appeared that she had the perfect husband and the perfect life. She was just tired of being “Mommy”.

As time went on, these three girls became great friends. They spent time together at work and not at work. Because of their positions, there were a lot of work functions where they were some of the only women there. At these functions, they were surrounded by salesmen who flirted, spent money on them, and were just a fun group of guys.

At one particularly large work function, there were salesmen from out of town. The three girls decided no one wanted to go home that night, so they got a hotel room at the event venue. And that was the night that started another commonality. By the end of the night, 2 of the girlfriends had started extramarital relationships.

Ultimately, all three of the girls had one. What is interesting is what happened in the end. Mandy had the most long-term (and twisted) relationship. She integrated her boyfriend into her life, had him over for parties, he joined her family at church on Sundays. Just about everyone at work suspected the relationship between Mandy and this person, but they denied it. After months of this, Mandy found herself pregnant and not entirely sure who the father was.

Candy’s boyfriend lived out of state and was also married. They took a few weekend trips to meet in the middle. Thanks for phone calls and emails and his need to come to town for business, they kept the relationship going. Candy was falling for this guy faster than gravity could pull her and it was a wonder how long this could keep going.

Soap had it a little easier since her husband lived out of state and never came to visit her. She and her guy went out, hung out, and just had fun. He was also married (though unhappily), but a dreamer. He talked of dreams of him and Soap being together. Though she was enjoying her relationship with this man, she knew in the back of her mind, she was going to leave and join her husband for one last try.

At one lunch, the three girlfriends talked about their situations and wondered how all this would end. Would all three of them stay married to their husbands? Or were they all going to walk away and try to start a new life with Man #2?

In the end, it was mixed. Mandy, before her baby was born, broke it off with her boyfriend (he did become a little psychotic) and recommitted to her husband. He never found out about the affair and secretive testing after the birth of her baby proved it was her husband’s child. She is now a happy stay-at home mom.

Candy and her husband did not make it much longer. They had a very nasty split and are still fighting over custody of their child. Her boyfriend also left his wife. He quit his job and got a new one in the same city as Candy. They are now living very happily together, with their kids getting long great and everyone enjoying life.

Soap did leave the city and tried to make it work with her husband. The man she was seeing wanted to wait for her, but they did not stay in touch very long. If you read this blog, you know Soap’s marriage did not last either. And almost a year after the split was started, she has found herself a wonderful man that makes her happier than she thought was even possible.

At the time, I don’t think any of the three girlfriends could have predicted how it would end. They don’t talk much (if at all), and no one really mentions what happened during that time. There was one conversation at lunch about how interesting it would be to put our stories in writing. Years later, here it is. Fortunately, we now know we are all happy. Because, in the end, that is what we all wanted.

Me: Good Afternoon, this is Soap.
Texter: Hi.
Me: Hi.
Texter: How are you?
Me: I’m okay. You?
Texter: I’m good.
Me: You shouldn’t be calling me.
Texter: Well, I’m on to Plan B, now.

What is Plan B? Plan B involves him realizing that he wasn’t happy when being around his Ex, and that he doesn’t want to keep forcing the issue anymore. And so, he continues, he talked to the counselor, laid it all out to her, and she supports his decision to move to Plan B. Which, by the way, includes me. Yes, Texter and I are officially together. I’m not entirely sure I can explain to you how this phone call made me feel. As optimistic and hopeful as I wanted to be, I also kept in the back of my mind that there was a very real chance that he would not come back to me. I’m just not sure how scared I really was that this might happen until I got the call that wiped the fear from the board.

So, the rest of the afternoon, I was on Cloud 9. In fact, I even called him about an hour later just to make sure I didn’t dream up this conversation. Good news: I didn’t. Unfortunately, we both had plans that night, so I wasn’t sure when we would get to see each other. He went to see his friend and I went to my usual Tuesday Happy Hour.

Now, I could write a whole post of what happened at happy hour, but I’ll sum up a particular conversation. L, the baby of the group, gave me the third degree on T (who, by the way, has been renamed to D-Bag). Now, L was buzzed-to-drunk, but it started pissing me off when she indicated that I was pretty stupid to get mixed up with him. But, then she quickly changed the conversation to Texter… asking what was going on there. I simply said things were very good.

I went home and Texter was waiting for me. I smiled and told him to get his a$$ over here. I think we held each other for 5 minutes before we even considered letting go and actually talking. We stayed up for another hour or so, talking, sharing what had gone on during our very short hiatus and about us. Because there is an “us”, or as he put it “just you and me”.

There’s still a rough road ahead… but I can tell you, dear readers, several things. This man makes me happy. I have had a smile permanently on my face since my phone rang. And that I have fallen in love with this man… hard-on face plant fallen. I’m ready to ride this ride for as long as possible.

“Once my heart was captured, reason was shown the door, deliberately and with a sort of frantic joy. I accepted everything, I believed everything, without struggle, without suffering, without regret, without false shame. How can one blush for what one adores.” – George Sand

That got me thinking about what would happen if something were to happen to me and I was out of commission for a time. (I am, for a former ballerina, a bit accident prone.) How would I walk Jetson? How would I take care of the house? What friends would actually help me? (And by friends, I mean people who I am not romantically involved with.) Or would I be relaying on my family and anyone for hire?

As I watch my almost 7-year old niece with her friends and I’m taken back to a time when I knew exactly who my friends were. I knew who would help me and who wouldn’t. My elementary best friend helped me for weeks after I broke my arm. My best friend in high school patiently helped me pass Calculus. But now, things are different.

I have my 4 best friends in the whole wide world. Unfortunately, they don’t live in my city. I have many stars in my sky: people who shine in my life, and who have meant something to me at one point or another. Most of those stars, however, are from years past. When I moved to this city at the end of 2006, I didn’t know many people. The Ex had the job, so his friends became my friends. My sister’s friends became my friends. But, there was never that closeness. And, since the divorce, anyone who were the Ex’s or my sister’s friends, are no longer my friends.

Now, don’t get me wrong… I have friends here in my city. But, now, when I need friends to keep me busy and my mind off of missing Texter, they are nowhere around. Two examples: I’ve tried to reach out to M, but he’s always too busy. My neighbor, who helped me through unemployment and the split, and I haven’t been able to talk (or even see) each other in almost 2 months due to conflicting schedules. Family, commitments, etc. always come first. Meanwhile, when I talked to the BFF last night and caught her up on everything, she reacted: “Soap, this happened last week… why the F%*& didn’t you call me?!!?”

I think somewhere, they forget to tell you in school to that as you get older, it’s harder and harder to make those good quality friends you have for the rest of your life. And as a single woman who is trying to find her place in this world, friends are important. I can’t do everything on my own (as much as I may try). I have met some wonderful people and I am blessed to have them in my life. No matter how disappointed I get with life, or the occasional pity-party I throw myself, I’m not going to stop trying. I truly believe that people are put in your life when you need them, even if it’s for a brief period of time. And, at the time I truly need someone to drop everything to be there for me, the right person has been and will always be there.

In one day, I wore many hats. In retrospect, these hats in one day show who I am as a person.

1. The Gardner. I spent 2.5 hours chopping up a large branch that fell in my front yard last week. I did it myself because I refused to pay the tree service the $350 they were asking for. Well, that and the grass under the tree branch was starting to suffer. But, I wasn’t done there… I also mowed the lawn, fertilized, and continued my war on the Smurf invasion I have in my back yard. Fortunately, the weather provided a nice breeze, so it wasn’t ridiculously hot. In the end, I had 10 bundles of tree branches ready for my trash men to pick up today. I just hope they do pick them up.
2. The Patron of the Arts. My mom and I have season tickets to our city’s ballet company. So, yesterday afternoon, we went to our first ballet of the season. Though the story was rather depressing, the dancing was beautiful, and I fell in love with the music. It didn’t replace my favorite ballet of all time, but it was very enjoyable.
3. The Volunteer. I’m heavily involved with a heritage organization. I went to a state-wide meeting on Saturday and because of my responsibilities, had some follow up work to do immediately. Anyone want patriotic jewelry? I got some!
4. The Athlete… although not the smartest. I took my brand new bike for a ride yesterday afternoon. I had trouble getting the back tire aired up, but finally got it, and off I went. After about ½ mile, I hear a “psssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh” in the back. Yep… something happened to my back tire. I had a CO2 cartridge, and tried, but either I didn’t do it right, or the damage is worse than I thought. I think I busted the tube. I have a replacement tube… just no idea how to change it. Guess I need to use my girly ways at the bike show to have someone show me. So, yeah… I had to walk back to the house. I redefined the term “Walk of Shame.”
5. The Football Fan. Sunday Night Football is the greatest thing. Bears vs. Packers: even better. Unfortunately, the Bears did not pull it off, but it was a good game. Roomie got a kick out of watching the game with me, because he didn’t realize how much of a football fan I am. Or how much I get into the games. Yeah, yelling, cheering and all that was involved.
6. A Person of Faith. I didn’t make it to church today (see time spent as Hat #1 was on), but I did spend some time reading and praying and reflecting last night. Mainly, though, I journaled about this 30-day hiatus experience with Texter.

Hats I do not wear:

1. The Maid. Nope… I pay for one. And today is Magic Cleaning Fairy Day. I love these days!
2. The Cook. I haven’t done a serious grocery story trip in about 2 weeks. There’s a reason why I don’t cook… I need food to do that!

What hats do you wear on a regular basis?

I went to a party last night for The One I Cannot Have. I haven’t seen him in over a month. We’ve chatted a bit by email, but the last few days, he’s been a good friend, listening and talking with me about stuff going on (keep reading… I’ll get there).

Last night was the official going away party. It was good to see him. We were able to talk some and it really hit me that he’s leaving. Perhaps it was the tequilia, or a mix of other things going on, but when he walked me to my car, I very nearly lost it. It’s hard to imagine one of the few people who made a miserable job tolerable and one of  the few friends in my city that I can talk to about anything, is leaving. But, c’est la vie, as they say, and so enter Good-bye #1.

The other Good-bye is Texter. But, his isn’t really a good-bye. We are on hiatus, more like. There will be zero communication between us for a minimum of 30 days. See, he and his counselor came up with a plan to determine if he wants to go back to his Ex because that’s what he feels like he is supposed  to do or if he wants to go back because he was genuinely happy there. I know ny thoughts on this, but that doesn’t matter. The rational behind this is solid and I agree with it. But, no one says I have to like it.

Today starts Day #3 of no communication. I feel like part of me has been ripped away from me. Even though this is a weekend he has his girls, and we wouldn’t be talking much anyway, the fact I can’t text him, or get a brief phone call from him looms. Every time the phone rings or indicates I have a message, there’s a fleeting hope it’s him. I know this will subside over time, but through all of this, I have realized something.

I have realized how deep my feelings are for Texter. And so, I’m not looking at this as a break-up or the end of our relationship. If we are meant to be together, this will only make us stronger, as there will no more question in him about his Ex. There is a risk that he may not come back to me. And that’s a risk I’m going to take. Because if there’s a chance he is coming back to me, I want to be there waiting.

This is huge for me, because I don’t know when I’ve waited for someone like this. So, this is a challenge for me too. It’s one I take on confident that this is what I’m supposed to do and one I take on with a heart full of hope and faith in love.

Even with all the broken hearts and broken relationships I have been through, I have never given up on Love. And I haven’t stopped believing…

Yesterday also marked the 2 month (and a few days) “anniversary” of meeting Texter. It’s been a mostly happy journey, with a few bumps recently. And those bumps are not unexpected… but they certainly hit harder than expected. After the game of red light/green light last week, things were looking good. He surprised me several times over the weekend, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Last night, however, something changed. And it changed when his Ex called. We were at his apartment, so I left to give him some privacy (my idea, not his). I needed to take Jetson for a walk anyway, so I just made it longer than normal.  By the time I got back, I could tell something was different. I asked if everything was okay, and he said no, not really. He dropped it and so did I.

This morning, as we talked, I could see the wheels turning in his head again. So, I asked what was going on. And he admitted he was feeling torn again. I knew it was coming. I can’t deny that. And really, what can I say? So, I didn’t say anything.  He asked why am I so good? I responded: It’s a curse… because I’m the one who always gets hurt. And I got up and left. As he walked me to my car, I lost it… just started crying. He held me, didn’t say anything, and just let me cry.

As I was driving home, I remembered something an old friend once told me: “Never date a man who’s split is less than a year old.” It wasn’t really anything I listened to, but now that I am in that situation, I wonder if I’m just setting myself up for even great pain. Don’t get me wrong: my resolution earlier still has not changed… I’m going to fight for him as much as I can. But, does that make me a glutton for punishment and heartbreak? Feel free to comment.