The Heart Break Files, part 6

Day 5 – I woke up before 10 this morning. I think I will consider that an achievement, even if the only reason I got up was to answer my mom's phone call. I had 19 new emails but all were junk mail, just another slap in my face that I was not worth having in Jesse’s life. In the process of deleting the new messages, I accidently deleted all the old ones, too. I was furious. I no longer had every note he had written me during our brief re-encounter. Then I realized how much I needed to get rid of that baggage anyway. Even if I didn't think I was ready to.

Does it really count that I am awake if I am just planted in front of the TV for hours of mindless reality TV shows? My guess- not so much.

I find myself thinking, I just want to go home but I am home so, what's missing? I think it may be time to pull out the big guns and do some retail therapy to get me out of my funk. I'm pretty sure that a new pair of shoes and some fun tights are just the way for me to enter the autumn season and could possibly be the link to me moving out of the denial and depression switch off I have been in. Besides, if I find some really hot boots, I'll have no choice but to fling myself into a Nancy Sinatra-esque mood and start my boots on walking all over my Jesse memories until I have successfully accomplished my anger phase and whole heartily face another stage of grief.

I got in the shower, got myself all cleaned up, and ready for an attack on the retail world when I looked outside and saw my husband hard at work. I couldn't go spend money when he was working on the yard. That would terrible. Then, right when I was going to jump in and help, he had to blow it. He came in and shouted at me for not helping and all my hard headed resistance stood up in me and there was no way I wanted to assist him while he was in righteous martyr asshole mode and I told him so. That resulted in him telling me I had best have another place to live in when we sell this place because he sure as hell was not going to live with me again. I assured him I would find a place big enough for just the kids and me. He stormed out and I realized that this kind of behavior is the kind of thing that if I weren't so damn stubborn it would be enough for me to give up all hope and just leave. Too bad I'm a raging Irish girl.

I said, why wait? I started to get the kids ready to leave for a bit – told him I wasn’t sure if we would be back that night and he was furious that I would leave but I kept pointing out that he said he didn’t want to live with me and he kept asking about the kitchen and we went round and round until he lost his temper, he stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. The kids and I were just on the other side. I reached out to the handle, wanting to come in and talk and that’s when it started. We heard a slam, I took a step back, and then there was another as Ruben punched the master bedroom door down and terrified the kids and me. I almost called the police but the phone was in the master bedroom, which is where he was so, instead, I left with the kids and went to my sister’s house to try to calm the kids down. We ate dinner and the kids played with their cousins as I talked it over with my sister. I have a feeling Ms. Stephanie at school is going to be asking me about this one because BOTH the kids still won’t stop talking about it.

I came home around 9, put the kids to bed and Ruben and I talked about how scared I was and how could he jump to not wanting to be together and breaking down a door over some dishes? And he kept asking again about the dishes (I cleaned the kitchen when I got home) but I told him I couldn’t change what happened earlier, all I could do is look for an action plan for the future. What kind of assurance do I have that he wouldn’t do that again? Or worse? He gave no answer. Then I asked what he wanted to do. He asked me. I told him I wanted to work it out but my answer is irrelevant because he obviously holds the reins in our relationship. He said that he was sure we would have another fight. He wanted to try to make it work but he was sure we would have another fight like that in the future and it was probably time to face that we were not meant for one another. I sobbed and he sat down beside me and said, “I love you, you know that, right? I do love you”

“No.” I answered. “I don’t know that! You know I’ve been unsure about us for a long time. How long have you known we weren’t meant for each other?”

“I didn’t say that! I said we many have to face we don’t belong together – why are you crying?”

“I’ve given you 8 years of my life. I have given you my everything! We have two kids and a house and I always looked to the big picture. I was in this forever but you haven’t been.”

“Sometimes, love isn’t enough, Allison. I do love you but I don’t think we were ready for all of this.”

“Maybe you weren’t ready but that doesn’t mean you are supposed to give up!”

“You can’t say you were ready for this”

“I was! I was ready to get married! Ready to have the children we have! Ready to buy a home – obviously not this one, it’s a complete project house and I don’t think either of us could’ve foreseen spending all the time and effort we did on this home only to have the flood and need to start over. It isn’t fair but it is what it is and we just need to deal.”

He was silent and then walked away. I followed into the bedroom, impressed that the door was removed and debris had been cleared. He was in the bathroom, applying Neosporin to his fist and arm. I offered up bandages and he barked for me to go to bed. I felt like my heart had been run over by a train – a train with lots of cars carrying lots of cargo. He came out to the couch and asked me to come to bed. I spent the next 3 hours watching the clock from our queen sized bed, amazed that I could still read the time through the blur of the tears that rolled down my face.

The Heart Break Files, part 5

Day 4 - I woke at 630 to a sad little Mateo at my side. I turned on Cat in the Hat for him, got him a baggy of cereal, and made the decision to head back to bed. At around 8, I went to push play on the DVD player again and by the third time, around 930, Ruben got up and showered. He jumped on me, in an attempt to be funny but I was pissed. I had been so asleep that this was the equivalent to someone throwing a brick at your head for no reason. "Its time to wake up" he said. "I'm going to make some breakfast". I shouted some obscenities and pretended to go back to sleep. By 1015, I was up and watching cartoons with the kids. Ruben was immediately on my case about cleaning and I barked back at him that he was lucky I was awake. In truth, he was right, I needed to clean but I much rather would’ve been sleeping so I didn't feel the aching in my heart. Would Jesse be harassing me right now if I had married him instead? My memory said no but my current interpretation of him weighed in and decided that was probably a yes. In making pancakes, Ruben lit the stove on fire and, rushing over to help, I tripped on a steel toe boot and was pretty sure I broke my pinky toe. That became a big furry of throwing everyone's everything where it goes.

I spent the entire morning cleaning and then decided, like the best revenge, I should look my best. I took a long shower brushed my teeth 4 times, and got into my favorite jeans. Then I realized, there was no one to really care if I looked good or not. I flopped on my bed and wished I didn't have to be up for the rest of the day. I was not quite that lucky. Within minutes of laying down, Ruben threw a grocery list at me and ordered me out. I'm pretty sure its not a good idea to send an unhappy woman to the store. It just might be worse than shopping hungry.

There was really only one thing I was looking forward to for this weekend: I had planned a girls night out. We were going to head over to a slummy bar called outlaws, have a few margaritas, shoot some pool, and bitch about our lives until we were so drunk we were laughing. This is the way girl’s night usually works and believe me, I'm long overdue for one. Of course, one phone call changed it all, you see, the planned had been invited somewhere else, somewhere she deemed better so, she was out. Since she was out, two others thought well maybe another night would be better for them, too, and another couldn't find a sitter, which left just me. Fine! I'll stay home. I pretty much decided all my friends were assholes, right there. Did they not realize their manic besty was trying to figure out her bazaar emotional status and would need several opinions and lots of tequila to do it? Obviously not! So Ruben rented a movie, a MAN movie, and I was expected to cook dinner and take care of the kids and then watch the damn movie with him. I, of course, decided this entirely blows and I locked myself in the bathroom to recount the many man movies I have watched. There is only one that really was coming to mind. Jesse wanted me to watch braveheart with him. It was his favorite movie ever and it was completely not something I would ever want to watch but that didn't matter because I loved him and besides, within minutes we were too wrapped up in eachother to know who was killing what in that movie. I never felt like I could get close enough to him, though I tried. And I still don't know how that movie turns out.

To my own luck, the man movie wouldn't read on our DVD player and Ruben had rented another: Baby Mama. Just what I needed a little romantic comedy. Normally, I would finish watching a movie like that and have total baby fever but not this time. I don't think my head is in the right place right now to even consider having another child. Then again, my kids are the only people I am certain love me unconditionally and permanently which is more than I can say about any past or present romantic partner in my life.

The Heart Break Files, part 4

Day 3 – I had a weird dream about Jesse last night and damn it! I am not over it. Oh jeez! As I write this, the Rick Springfield song, Jessie’s Girl is on the radio. Is that a sign? Anyway, back to the dream. In it, I stole Jesse away from his girlfriend and then used magic to shrink him to a tiny size so that his girlfriend wouldn’t find him. And I ran him all over the place, trying to keep him for myself but in the end, I ended up sitting across a table from her with him, standing on the ground behind me and I could see how much she wanted him in her life so I gave him back and reversed the spell so that he grew to be the normal size. What the heck does that mean? If I recall, you are supposed to represent every person in your dreams so, was this my subconscious saying that running around, wanting to keep him for myself was making me a smaller person? When I gave him back, was that sort of like me processing through the idea of finally moving on? And, why, when I come into work everyday do I totally agonize over him, day in and day out? You would think, getting over someone you had not even seen in 8 years, let alone heard from would be a breeze. Am I just emotionally inept? I am beginning to think my heart is pretty lame.

I keep looking at the 7 stages of grief, trying to figure out where I am.
· Shock or Disbelief
· Denial
· Bargaining
· Guilt
· Anger
· Depression
· Acceptance and Hope
Pretty sure that I float all over the first six without really spending any time in acceptance and hope. I wish that the grief process were a little more straightforward.

I went from a long meeting straight to lunch which helped me limit my thoughts but, at lunch, I met up with my little sister who is in the middle of her own life crisis so, I thought we would focus on those but the first questions she had were about my MySpace message about being depressed and I gave her a quick run down and she stated, in what felt like a sharp stab in my heart, “I always thought he was the one for you.” It hurt and it resonated with me through the rest of the lunch. I talked about my epiphany last night and how I realized how much I had grown since then and how Ruben had been great enough to stand by me and while I wasn’t sure who my soul mate was anymore, I was sure that that kind of support was something. Ok, what’s the deal with 80’s stations airing the same songs in the same day? This is the second time Jessie’s Girl has played and I’m starting to wonder if it’s a coincidence. That’s the problem with being left with your own thoughts too long, they eventually start rolling into one big cluster of a mess and before you know it, you think there is a meaning to EVERYTHING. I need to focus on something else.

The beauty of getting over the men in my life in the past is that I never had to continue living while I tended to my broken heart. I could stop everything and focus in. This time I have account executives in my face, worrying about co-op clients and I have a payroll to review and kids who want to play and a husband who deserves my attention. They all fight for attention right now as I try to steal away and hurt for a bit. I still have not cried yet and I really feel like I need to. I'm just really afraid that when I do take that time, I may not be able to turn off the water works.

The evening was harder than I thought. I made dinner and by time I had sat down, all I wanted to do is hide. I wanted to sleep my grief away. I ate dinner with the family and I gave my best attempt at being awake but by 8, I had convinced Ruben I needed a nap. I lay down and the memories of holding Jesse flooded in. I remembered his tender kisses and keeping my arms wrapped around his waste, under his jacket to keep warm. I would nestle my head into his chest and breathe him in. He tucked his face down into my hair and I could feel him smelling in my blonde waves.

I tossed over, on to my side, trying to wash the thoughts from my head but then came the rage. I saw Jesse and I sitting in his little beat up Nissan truck in a parking lot behind a Baskin Robbins. It was a cold winter day and I had on a sweater and a jacket but was still shivering from the cold. I asked if we could turn the heater on but he shunned the idea with an explanation that gas was not cheap and if he turned the heat on, we wouldn't be able to get home. Which, in looking at the gas gauge at the quarter mark and knowing we lived just a few miles away, I knew this was complete garbage. He lit up a cigarette and I stared out the window, angry with myself for being in love with such a jerk.

I woke up around 10. I was still tired but felt terrible about having left Ruben to put the kids to bed by himself. We watched the comedy channel and then went to bed. I knew I was starting to head into more than a flirting relationship with depression as I rested on my pillow. I could sleep through the entire weekend if someone would let me, I thought.

The Heart Break Files, part 3

Day 2 – I got up, checked my blackberry and found myself more furious with each piece of junk email in my inbox. Each one was a new message slap in the face that he had not written. So, I haven’t healed – not at all. I went to work and tried to search out his MySpace page, see when he last logged in. Sept 22nd, the day before the heartbreak. Damn.

I wanted to find her, the woman who was filling my shoes. I wanted to see her world but only knowing her first name and her rough location, that was not really working. I was agonizing over everything. How do I stop? I caught myself sitting at my desk day dreaming about the past. I remember early on, his sweet face one morning as we had been rolling around and then he started to cry and said he wasn’t ready. I could find someone else that was, but he was not. He would understand if I left him. Tears rolling down his face, I held him to me and said that I was not leaving him. I loved him and that was more important. And then flash – over to his washer and drier as he did his laundry, smiling proudly about how crisp and white his t-shirts turn out because he has just the right system. I needed to stop. I needed to move away. I needed to breathe. God! I wanted to snuggle my face in his chest and just smell him one more time. The scent of laundry detergent and old spice and man, all mixed together. I went to lunch with a girlfriend and we talked about anything but him. He was on my heart but for one hour, I needed him off my mind. I was sure that my work was slipping and even more worried about my marriage. I wanted desperately to throw all my energy into my husband, all my love, all my care but I knew if I didn’t suffer through these raw emotions in a successful way, they would keep coming back. Would it have been easier for me to have just had a damn affair? I am beginning to think it might have!

Evenings seem to be better. I am not sure if its just being surrounded by my spouse and kids or if its that there is wine near by. I cracked open a bottle of Silverstone Syrah, turned on my slow songs playlist on my ipod and got to business. I sat and went through all the pictures I had saved from my past and read through old journals and relived all the feelings, in hopes that I could put all the guilt and regret and heart ache to rest once and for all. With each photo, I remembered the place, the time, the smells, sounds, and how I felt. I sat and breathed it in and, unless it was a good memory, I put it in the toss pile. I found myself putting a lot of old pleasant times into the trash pile and found a lot of relief in that. I made a special pile for all my Jesse photos. I would deal with those after. When I was done with the photos, I had gotten rid of close to half of my total collection and I saw a huge change of who I was and who I am now. Then I went through old journals and was amazed and disappointed by the shallow and self-centered little girl I had been. I saw my self-discoveries and my integrity develop, long after I remembered it. Apparently, my memory had failed me on a lot. I was glad to rip away pages and put them in the garbage. I did not need or want those memories in my life.
Finally, it was time to go through the Jesse pile. I went through each picture so slowly. I wanted to cry but I can't yet. I am not there yet. I remembered making a cake for his birthday and it being hideous so I bawled about it and begged my sister to run out and get a store bought one. There were the pictures of him blowing out the candles on the cake, the ones after he saw the ugly home made cake, and he still loved me in all my hopelessness. I saw how young we were and I felt the tension of being too young and in love all over again. Each photo held so much memory but it held so much more to me, too. Each photo was baggage. Each photo was a razor blade that had seared my heart. I threw them all away and didn't look back. I felt the whole thing to be amazingly cathartic and walked out, for the first time, instead of being regretful of who I had been, I found myself proud of the distance I had come and the person who I was turning out to be. This renewed me had much bigger shoes to fill and a life worth having.

The Heart Break Files, part 2

Day 1 - I totally vented to anyone who would listen and by anyone – I mean ANYONE. I told my boss, my co-workers, I even told a business contact from another media outlet that I have never even met. I had lunch with my sister, and, to be honest, it was her influence in the first place that caused us to lose touch so many years ago so, I was a little afraid of what I would hear from her and I was pretty sure, deep down, we all knew she deserved a bit of blame. But, to my surprise, she put it very nicely. “He must’ve put you on that very same pedestal that you put him on. The memories of your relationship must’ve been so great and he must still love you enough to think it was worth risking.” I sat there and that was sweet but did it solve my problems? Not at all. I went home, and revolted against the norm. I wanted to cry and be mad and beg for another chance. I ordered take out, drank a beer, and took a shower by myself. I watched a sneak preview of a premier and when I went to bed, Ruben lit a candle. He was tender and sweet and for the night, I felt like I was in the right arms. I was in the right place and healing these wounds would be easier than I thought.

The Heart Break Files, part 1

Recently (having young children I always want to follow that with, “yes, recently”) I was surfing through people on MySpace when, to my surprise, I saw someone I thought to be dead. However, it was not just someone. It happened to be the ex-love of my life. A person that I was sure, had we not lost one another, we would be together and when I was told he had passed away, I was completely shattered. But the beauty of his passing was that I never had to give up my ideal of him. For me, he would always be that complete romantic, swept up in the passion, love will keep us alive kind of man. Now, seeing his face, his name staring at me, I was shocked. Could this really be him? Almost automatically, I wrote to him. Telling him I thought he had passed away and how relieved I was to see that he was not dead. I asked him to tell me that he was happy in life and that he had found love and found himself over the years that had passed. I waited. Almost two months passed before I heard back. Instantly, all the feelings that I had stored away rushed back to me and, as I tried to push them back to the corner of my heart that they had taken up residence, we continued to correspond. I shared the sadness of my college years and the craziness of my marriage but mostly, I gushed about the complete blessing that my children are. He talked about where he lived and his girlfriend. Over all the emails, I kept feeling that he wasn’t getting my tone. My gentle, friendly nature. If I were not married and did not have children and he did not have his girlfriend, I am quite confident I would pursue a relationship but the facts remained. I am married, I have children, he has a girlfriend, and I would not risk any of those things for either of us. I asked if we could talk on the phone, hoping less would be misunderstood. He ignored the request and ventured to say that he would not live with himself if he broke up a family. Clearly, he did not understand my intentions. So, I laid it out there, I was sorry that he had confused my desires, I had no interest in being more than friends, this would be my last email, the choice was his. He could email me back as just a friendly acquaintance and we could continue our pen pal relationship or he could not.
He did not.

I had told him that I would respect either choice but I will admit, I not only did not respect this choice I was appalled. How could he get such a message from the emails I sent? I had not only encouraged his relationship but also questioned why they were not married, offered to send the ring he gave me to him so he could propose with it. It clearly was not serving me any purpose so, it should go to someone who would love it. I learned I had met his current girlfriend. How could I interfere with that? Moreover, who would risk their family for something like that? Certainly, he thought I was of the moral character to do that and that hurt. And he must have been of the moral character to go there and that completely altered the view I had saved of him. I know that most people are better as a memory but I felt completely betrayed by my memory, by my heart, and by the once upon a time love of my life.

While this is something that I should be able to brush aside and move on, living happily ever after with my spouse and children, I am instead presented with the problem that I now truly need to face that he and I were not perfect for each other and we would not be together. Essentially, I needed to heal from a break-up while still loving my spouse and kids. How do you face heartbreak when your heart should have been somewhere else all along? And how do you move on when you have already moved forward?

These are the things I am going to need to figure out.

First Day of School

So, they went to school – and they didn’t hate it. In fact, Lexi has been begging to spend “all the days and all the nights” there. Mateo tolerates it. At the end of the day, he says he had fun and the teacher confirms that he’s had a good day but I think he’s going to be resentful.
Got them to let me take a few photos to commemorate the day…

Proud Parenting

Taught my daughter to tell her father to pucker up and kiss this (index finger to right butt cheek) – probably one of my very best parenting moments as of yet.

Tomorrow is the End...

The first day is tomorrow. They don’t realize it as they sleep peacefully in their beds but tomorrow is the beginning of the rest of their lives.
You see, tomorrow my children will start preschool. From that day on, they will be dialed into 5 days a week for the rest of their lives. Gone will be the free playing and goofing around as they please. They will be accountable for progress, expected to follow the routine. They fell asleep so peacefully, but if they knew would they ever forgive me? Nah, probably not but then again what are parents for if not to blame every last misery on at a later date in front of a therapist charging you $ 95 an hour.