Reminders of Love

Today I am thankful for those bizarre universal coincidences that remind me of things that I forgot to remember: 

 

This morning I was reminded that I am capable of love. 

 

 

I did my usual ritual last night.  I took a sleeping pill at 9:00.  I bid my ex-husband good night, telling him that I truly doubted that we could work things out but I wanted him to live the life of his dreams.

 

If he always wanted to travel and was given that opportunity, I think he should go for it.  He'll be teaching our kids to take risks and get out there and live!  It's a good thing.....really.

 

I awoke at 4:00 again with the thought that I was going to be a single mother expected to stay faithful to a man who hasn't lain with me in years. 

That's not true.  I did have the stomach flu two years ago.  He hugged me to help me feel stable during a vertigo attack. 

When he cries, I still run for the tissues..... even if he is crying over something he did that makes my life a living heck (like taking $10,000 of my settlement post-divorce and withholding the rest for nine months).  We proof-read each others resumes.  We cook for each other.  He'll make me eggs on Saturday.  I make him salad every night.  I cook him soup when he his sick.  I do his laundry.  He taught me how to change a flat tire.

When I'm angry, he'll rent "The Punisher" for me.  Scratch that, he bought me a copy of the movie on Saturday.  When Steve would break up with me, he'd buy me Ginger flavored Vodka.  Since Steve broke up with me every three to four weeks, it was once a staple in this house. 
***** 

It is bizarre how marriage changes people.  We are no longer lovers - it is more like we parent each other. 

Worse.....over the years, the screwing went from sexual to financial.  I guess this would be indicative of the divorce. 

I have to wonder....is this love?  

*****
Another woman asked my ex-husband out on a date.   He had the van and was helping a colleague rescue a friend's belongings from an abusive ex-boyfriend. When the man tried to start a fight, he intervened and proceeded to load her boxes into his vehicle.

I was told that this woman is enamored with him. I was also told that he declined the offer but that this woman is quite persistent.  I was told that he cited his family as the reason he wasn't ready to date. 

You know....I am happy for him.  I hope her attention helps him see the goodness within him. 

I also hope he keeps his sister and extended family away from any loves in his future.  They're scary people.

Is it love wanting the best for other people?

*****
Me?  I decided that I need to focus on raising my kids and moving them out of the house and in to college.  I don't have time to date.  I need to get used to being alone for awhile. 


Sadly, I can do the motherly love thing better than the lover thing.
*****

This morning, I decided to check my Gmail account.  I don't typically check it.  Steve used to send me numerous abusive emails when he was feeling anxious; I still haven't brought myself to read them all.  I probably never will.  I feel physically ill when I sign in.  It'll probably take me awhile to get over that.

I still won't sign in to Facebook.  If Steve lives and breathes by that infernal site, he can have it.   If I don't post, I won't have to worry about one of his aliases writing something inflammatory on my wall and causing my male friends to try to take care of me.  I don't want to be rescued.  I want a partner not a savior!  Geesh!!







I have vowed never to date anyone I meet over the internet....ever again.   This statement seems weird because I actually met Steve at a coffee shop - but he used the internet to hunt me down after seeing my picture on Meetup.com. 




I am terrified to date, have sex or fall in love.  I think love and sex are the domain of hyper-skinny young people devoid of cellulite.  I feel too ugly to indulge.  Someone would really have to love me to look at me. 

 

At this point, I am not sure that I am capable of love. 

 

Am I? 

 

*****

 

This morning, on Gmail, I saw my high school sweetheart's hand.  His name is Thomas but he lets me call him Tom.  I feel so privileged.


In his avatar, Tom is holding a watermelon.  Every time I see that I secretly hope that he got married and has a kiddo.  What else would him posing like Farmer Joe holding a watermelon mean?  It's the perfect metaphor for growing the American dream.  Right?  That's what he always seemed to want.  He used to talk about it quite a bit back in the day.

The only thing missing would be a small puppy dog.  He had a way with small dogs.  They loved him.

Last night, I think he accidently sent me an invite to a conversation with members of his family. 

 

When I saw his brother's name, I felt panicky. 

I wondered.....I worried.....then I fretted. 

How is his mother?  Oh no......

 

My heart sank. 

When I was a teenager on the verge of homelessness, she offered to take me in before she realized that her son liked me.  That would have been a disaster.  I will always remember her for her kind heart and the way she seemed to treat everyone like they were important.   


I solved the homeless dilemma by selling a couple instruments and taking the money to rent an apartment.  Still, though, after years of being treated like an unwanted outsider by my family, it was refreshing to think someone would actually consider taking me in. 

 

Was Mrs. E an angel in heaven now?

I started to cry not knowing if there was really any reason to actually cry.  



Maybe it was because I had just woke up. 

Maybe I just need Prozac.  

 

I sent him a quick message inviting him to call if he needed to talk.

 

As I drove around town running errands this morning, I thought back to the warmth and the depth of feelings I felt around him.  The last time I saw Thomas, I could feel it.  It was forbidden.  I could feel the wamth and the longing eminate from him as he approached me from behind.

 

I KNEW he was there.  I could FEEL him even before my eyes saw him. 

 

This was the cold January day Shannon and Doug were watching us eat lunch at a pizza joint.  The date was 1-11-11 and it was probably close to 1:00, too.  Tom had broken his leg in a skydiving accident.  I was trying to hold back tears as he proudly recounted his injury.



In mid-sentence, his face softened and his voice lowered.  He gazed into my eyes, telling me that he should stop talking about it because he was making me cry. 

He wasn't making me cry.  It was the onions....yeah....yeah....let's blame the onions. 

Sure......

 

He is the only man in the world who knows when I am on the verge of tears.

 

I guess that is love.  Love can espouse sensory acuity.   Love can make us wince when we have to imagine the pain a dear one is feeling.  


I just don't know how to define that love. 

It is there. 

I only want the best for him. 

 

So....yes....my old friend reminded me that I can feel love even if it is because he accidently added me to a Google Hangout. 

 

Tom always had a way of turning up when I needed to learn something. 



Love ya,

S.

P.S.  So, I checked the obituaries just in case.  When I did that, I saw an article about my cousin who died from cancer in September.  The city wants to erect a monument in his honor.  It will be privately funded. 

I guess I needed to see that today. 




Truth be told, I couldn't stand his politics.  His heart was in the right place -but- he seemed to support the members of the council intent on bullying small business owners into making extensive changes to their property.  He wanted my landlord to pop the top off of our office building to make way for a restaurant.  Our offices were to be upstairs and they would be closed during the renovations.

My landlord declined.  Legal action was threatened.  My landlord was harassed with fines for the smallest of code violations (e.g. a small tear in a curtain).  I was angry.  I spoke my peace and then moved my office to a more libertarian part of the state.  



I don't think that would fly very far here.  The Libertarian Party is growing in that part of town and there is talk of an activist group similar to the one my cohorts started here.  I have told them what is going on and promised to support them if they wanted to take on this ICLEI controlled town.  We'll see.  I haven't heard any more about it in the past two years. 

 

My cousin was a kind man.  He was, sadly, quite a statist.  He was barely 35.  He didn't have time to grow up.  That could have changed with more political experience. 

Nonetheless, he is missed.  This whole thing seems surreal.....painfully surreal. 

Life is not fair.