Maybe I Should Have Settled

"Is that Junior League code for bitch?"

OK, I admit it.  I love it when I hear something negative about my former husband's new wife (OK, not new, but second).  I heard through a reliable and fairly neutral source who knows her through the Junior League, that she is "hard." She was not the cause of my divorce, but, truly, I do not think she helped a bad situation.  I also feel like she's the main reason my daughter and her Dad have such a strained relationship.

I don't know about you, but I'd rather be called a "bitch" flat-out, than "hard."

Three-month shelf life

Well...the conversation was not a real conversation.  We did not discuss ways to make things better or if it was something we should even try to fix.  Not sure why he dragged this out for a week and a half -- I gave him every opportunity to be done when we talked on the phone.  I thought he wanted to think, to discuss, but, apparently...  it was a foregone conclusion.  'South' was the direction we were going in.  I knew it was when I didn't hear from him until Friday.  I got the "how about 10 or 10:30 Saturday morning?" mid afternoon on Friday... that is, most definitely, not the timing of a man interested in making it better.
I felt nauseous Saturday morning and had friends, and my daughter, telling me to blow it off (that his behavior did not warrant any kind of closure-kindness), but I felt the need to see it through to the end.  I've always run from the messy parts of relationships, but for some reason, wanted to see this one play out to the bitter end (though "bitter" is really not the right word here).  I shed some tears at the end of our almost-hour chat - he did not.  We hugged. He said he was sorry and it was done.
I guess I'm left wondering on why most of my relationships have a three-month time line.  Usually it's me who gets aggravated and wants to move on (sometimes it's way less than three months, but that seems to be my going average, and it really works for a headline).  I'm not liking either role right now.  "Dump-er."  "Dump-ee."  They both suck.

So, for the record, the Editor/Sportswriter (he's been nicknamed both -- as his job changed midway through knowing him) is an official member of the ex-files.

On a happier note...just discovered that the number 1 song on the day of my birth was "It's My Party."  Seems so appropriate. I'm going to try and make that phrase today's mantra... 
Find your birthday song here.

Raw

I hate to admit it, but there are days when my 10+ year divorce still feels raw.

I am meeting with a new client this afternoon.  I am subcontracting to the ad agency I “grew up” with.  We are meeting with a Law Firm who needs help with their marketing, and most especially, their web site.  I had a short meeting with the agency-head earlier in the day, and we perused the existing site.  I saw that headshots and names were included on one page; so once back in my office I decided to print the page – to act as a sort of cheat sheet in the PM meeting.
I saw a name that rang a bell.  A name I knew my ex-husband could confirm for me.  He has been a lawyer in this city for nearly 20 years.  So I called him.  We have a good relationship – a bit marred by the way he and my daughter interact (not well), but our relationship is cordial and polite – sometimes teasing and fun.  (I just wish he could handle the relationship with our child better.)  Very often when I call, he’s not there at his desk, but today he was.
I asked him the question.  He had the answer. I knew he would.  It was nice to talk to him.  It was nice to be reminded that he was smart.  A part of me still wonders why we didn’t try when our marriage started to fail.  There was a lot about our marriage that seemed lost and misguided.  We were babies when we got married (three whole weeks after we graduated from our alma mater).  We didn’t know how to communicate about big, important things.  Maybe I still don’t and that’s why I’m still single after all of these years. 
We split up more than 13 years ago -- at my original request.  Yet, I’m sitting here getting misty…wondering if he was the first case of needing “to settle.”  And I don’t say that phrase from a place of contempt or anger.  In this case “settling” probably means ‘learning’ or ‘understanding.’  He wasn’t a bad guy.  He was all of the things I’m looking for now (mostly), but there were points at the end of our time together where I felt like I was suffocating…literally and figuratively.  I couldn’t even stand the scent of him in my car (a car that he might have driven a few hours before).  I’m not talking body odor. I’m talking scent.  That’s how physically difficult the relationship had become, yet, I’m sitting here feeling sad.
Or am I just feeling lonely?  Or alone?  There is a difference.  Somehow I know the answer.  I’m feeling both, and maybe with a sprinkle of regret for not knowing more than I did.  Ahhh, hindsight…it’s a horrible thing on days like today.