Sunday, March 27, 2011

Finding Forty, Day 298; Moving Forward, Looking Back

The pink slip was delivered on Friday morning.   In truth, it was a white piece of paper that I signed and I didn't cry during my meeting with my principal.

Tears flowed later, throughout the day and into the night, but I still find myself hopeful.   Something will turn up or present itself.   Things will work out.

A week ago, we discovered my middle son had lice.   If you've ever had it in your house, you know how exhausting the process can be to safeguard everyone else and rid the area of the pesky parasites.

I stayed around to help A with everything because it truly is daunting.  I spent a great deal of time at his house this week and we have entered into a very interesting situation.    We are the best of friends.

More and more, the stronger I get, I see him clearly for who he is.   He isn't perfect, but he's the closest thing I've ever found.  

Recently my sister told me that our dad (who divorced my mom after 27 years of marriage) confessed to her that he wishes he'd spent more time focusing on the good things in his marriage to her than the bad. He said that he has spent his life searching for perfection and realizes now, on the brink of 70, that it's not out there.

I don't want to be him.

A and I talked all day yesterday about us, our past, our future.   Imminent is our declaration of bankruptcy.   I'm ready for that, even though I don't like it.   I hate the dark cloud hanging over my head.

I don't want to divorce him, yet...if ever.   I'm not hoping or even wanting to reconcile full force at this time, but I do like that we are able to spend time together one on one.    We don't touch, hold hands, kiss or have sex, but there is a level of intimacy that feels amazing.

We are both in financial ruins, having to start over in our respected professions.   Something about being at that spot together brings the past two years into sharp focus.

I would love to move forward and rebuild with him.    I know that is scary and I know that my last blog was about loving someone else.

But over the past few weeks and especially as I deal with being laid off, I see what unconditional love looks and feels like when it's directed at me.

There is beauty in A.   How I overlooked it shocks me.

I'm not rushing back.  I'm saying that I am seeing things more clearly and seriously contemplating.   I also know that I hurt him horribly, possibly beyond repair, and he may not want me in his life as anything other than a friend.

And if that's the case, then I will feel honored to be there.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Finding Forty, Day 284; Ugly Truths

When the rain is blowin' in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love.

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love.

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong.

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawlin' down the avenue
No, there's nothin' that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love.

Though storms are raging on the rollin' sea
And on the highway of regrets
Though winds of change are throwing wild and free
You ain't seen nothin' like me yet.

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the Earth for you
To make you feel my love. 

When I began this blog, I vowed to be honest, for better or worse, in all its ugly reality.

Tonight's blog is hideous.    Two years ago tonight, I began my affair with S.   In the steamy cab of his truck, I leaned over and kissed him.   

It wasn't our first kiss.  

At 18, on a graduation trip to Acapulco, I leaned over to him in a club and began kissing him.   There has always been something about him that drew me in, held me captive.

Now I feel I'm a prisoner.   I can't escape the feelings I have for him, the love, the laughter, the foolish, impetuous dreams I created.

And it makes me feel so incredibly stupid.   He doesn't want me.  He lied to me.  He told me horrible, beautiful things and then took them all back and still I pine for him.

Why?  How?  

I want it to end, to go away.   I want to have a heart transplant, a lobotomy, something, anything to move past this ridiculous longing.

The emptiness, so hollow and aching, I try to fill with hobbies, work, interactions with friends.

And I know I'm not the first to ever have a broken heart.   But I feel so alone in this at times. 

I feel so stuck.   I want to be free of him, of all these feelings, and I just don't know how.   Isn't there a recipe for this?  A timetable?   I feel desperate.

Ugly truths, be gone.

Like him.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Finding Forty, Day 279; Waterfalls

No news is good news, they say.   In my case, no news is just no news.  The pink slip hasn't arrived.  It looms overhead like a huge, dark cloud ready to burst at the seams.   I can don my purple Wellies, have my umbrella in hand, but the inevitable drenching will come.

It's the week before Spring Break, so I have to confess that it is hard to get motivated to do much of anything professionally.   My mind is already on vacation.

R is flying in from Chicago and a few other friends are gathering to enjoy some much needed time together.    We have been sending a flurry of emails to and fro, back and forth, discussing everything from accessories and clothes to where to eat out and what to do.  It's so exciting, I can hardly stand the wait.

The other cloud in my mind, though, is that the "anniversary" of when my affair officially began with S is at the end of the week and I keep fighting the urge to drop into dwelling on that time in my life.  For 15 years or so, he traveled here during this time of the month for a tournament and I keep wondering if he'll be here this year.  Last year he skipped, because of everything that happened with us, so I'm just going to assume he won't be here this year either.

I know I shouldn't even entertain such thoughts, but it's hard.

So, there is good and bad.  Happy and sad.  

Life, I suppose.

When I think back to all those years I lived just coasting down the stream, never having to give thought to anything other than a pesky bug buzzing in my ear, I'm overcome with the urge to either laugh or cry.

There is no coasting now and it seems the rapids come harder and stronger with every passing day.    If there is a waterfall somewhere down the way, I almost welcome it.  At least it provides a change from this worrisome, hectic, exhausting pace.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Finding Forty, Day 273; Pink Slips and Hope

As ever, time has passed and changes, so many changes have come about.    My dalliances with the young one (I referred to him as 'the kid') only lasted a few days.   Like fellow blogger Kate says in the comments below, fit and cute only go so far.   I couldn't get over his horrible spelling and grammar on his texts.   I also couldn't get over his tongue!

Being 40 has it's ups and downs, but one of the perks has been that I finally am able to recognize what I like, don't like, and more importantly, have the courage to say so.

When I would kiss 'the kid', I could not stand the way his tongue felt.  It was huge and thick and soft and mushy.  I kept trying to overcome my distaste for it, thinking that perhaps it would reap other benefits elsewhere, if you catch my drift.   But my 40 year old self remembered how important kissing is to me and knew it would always bother me.

And then something else happened.

Last Tuesday, the same day as my last blog, I found out that my position at work is being eliminated.   While I haven't received the official pink slip, it's a well known fact in my district that with the massive budget cuts that need to be made, all probationary teachers will be let go.   Probationary contract status, for me, means I am a new hire.  I am finishing up my second year in the district, the last little bit of my probationary contract, and got caught in the crossfire.

I am a good teacher with a Master's Degree, but I will have to go.  My performance has never been substandard, I've never been reprimanded for anything, never placed on a growth plan, but I am out.   I understand that the district has to implement a plan that is fair for all, but it almost feels fair for none.

You can imagine the shock, the fear, the numbness I felt, particularly on that Tuesday night when I first found out.   'The Kid' didn't even say he was sorry when I told him.   I think the words he texted back were 'Shut up!'    I knew he meant 'get out of town' or 'no way', but I wanted more of a shoulder to cry on than a passing glance.    I just didn't have the energy for him.   Oh, that and he didn't get my Mrs. Robinson joke.   Please!

I can handle just about anything, but as you longtime reader's know, I am handling many things right now.   Pending divorce, pending bankruptcy due to the failure of "A"'s business, and now this.

Mostly I'm just tired.   Exhausted.  Cannot find the strength to even begin to know how to move forward.

I spent a few days crying.

I broke down and called 'S' who was sympathetic and nice, but comfortably sitting in his office, getting ready to go home to his wife, who would be coming home from her job.

Anger poured through me as I realized how his life had changed not one iota, while mine seems to be unraveling at the seams.

But then I stop and ask it really?   Maybe all of this is a gift?    S can go on with his life, with all of the same problems that existed when our affair first began, never dealing with them, never facing adversity of any sort.

I have to believe that in the end, I will come out stronger, wiser, more worn, but with a patina that shows my value.

Maybe this is an opportunity to reinvent myself or become even truer to who I've always wanted to be?  Maybe I find a job that combines writing and fashion and music or any combination of all of the things I so love?   Who knows?

If I stop and dwell for too long, the fear creeps in.   If I lay down to rest, I worry I might not have the strength to even get up.   So, I do my best to keep moving forward.

When I feel this way, I think of Mary Tyler Moore.  Forgive me if I've shown this already on my blog.

I'm gonna make it after all...