Slow down, 2015


I used to babysit WFB’s roommate. When we met, I thought she looked familiar. She and I graduated from the same high school, but she was 5 or 6 years behind me and I figured we didn’t know any of the same people. Then it hit me last night. The kids I babysat every summer I was in high school lived next to a girl with the same name as his roommate. I asked her on Facebook Messenger if she knew the two kiddos I used to sit. Yes! They had been her neighbors growing up and the boy I sat had helped her move last week. I told her I remembered taking the girl over to her house to play, and I actually babysat her a few times in the evening when my day ended with her neighbors. It’s pretty weird telling your boyfriend’s roommate that you were her babysitter 14 years ago.

Two unpleasant things happened last night. The first, was Jeff calling me around 10:30 pm, asking for my birth city and the date of our divorce. Seriously? He was with me for 7.5 years and doesn’t know where I was born? He said he was getting a passport and needed the info. This afternoon, he came by my office with his fiance to make his eye appointment. It makes me crazy that he does this. It’s so much easier to call, and it makes me think he’s messing with me. Anyway, he’s coming in tomorrow. I called him today to tell him congratulations and ask why he hadn’t told me he was getting married. His response? “Well it’s not like we talk anymore.” We don’t talk because he has a new woman in his life and he doesn’t want me as a friend, even though that’s what he originally said he wanted. I asked him not to bring his lady friend with him, and explained that he’s the only ex-husband who comes around the office. Everyone else’s exes seem to be capable of finding other eye doctors to see. I’ve been working there for 10 years, and we were together all but my past two years there. My co-workers know him, and those who don’t are still very protective of me. I’m incredibly stressed about what is going to happen tomorrow.

The other unpleasant thing? My brother, my niece, my nephew and I went to the KU basketball game, the first time for all of us. When we got back in town, WFB sent a text that he and some friends were going out for drinks. It was around 7:30 pm and I was tired, but agreed to go out. I want to hang out with his friends and get to know them a little better. He was blitzed when I showed up: glassy, red eyes and a drunk sway. Apparently he’d been out since 3:30 that afternoon. After we figured out how to get his car to my place and his friend back to her car, he was pretty feisty but I was ready for bed. Apparently I irritated him because he called me a bitch when I rolled away from him to go to sleep. I know he didn’t mean it, but that was the word of choice for my parents and my brother when I was growing up. Their favorite thing to call me was, “Spoiled Little Bitch,” so when someone calls me “bitch,” I get very upset. I started crying and he immediately apologized, held me and tried to console me. Shortly after, I started a tickle fight and momentarily forgot about the whole ordeal. However, as I write this, I’m tearing up. I know he didn’t mean it, but it’s the first time he’s hurt me. I love him, and it’s something that’s easily forgivable so I’m sure I’ll be over it soon. He’s a sweet fellow but I know he has a temper. Until last night he had hidden it well. Here’s to hoping it’s not a trend.


The Engagement


My ex-husband is engaged. MY EX-HUSBAND IS ENGAGED. I had to write it down before my head exploded.

Damn you, Facebook. My 14 year old niece posted some pictures from Christmas on her Facebook. I miss my in-laws, and flipped through some of the photos. I noticed Jeff wasn’t in any of them, but that’s not too surprising because when we last spoke he said he had lost touch with a lot of his family. Out of curiosity, I looked up his Facebook profile and, BAM! The first thing on the page said “engaged to what’s-her-face on September something-or-other” and there was a picture of the two of them from when they visited Seattle, just days after I had been there.

In September of 2012, we made our final decision to split. That night I was sitting on the front steps of our house, talking on the phone with B. Jeff came outside and said, “I’m sure you’ll be married or at least engaged within a year of our divorce.” I said something shitty, like “I don’t think I’ll make that mistake again.”

He started dating her in June of this year. They were engaged three months later. I found out three months after the engagement. He is 32 and she is… she might be 21 by now. I don’t know when her birthday is. But seriously? Also, how did none of our friends tell me? We aren’t friends on Facebook, but we have 35 mutual friends. How did NO ONE tell me?

I know I shouldn’t care. I am in love with a wonderful man who treats me worlds better than Jeff ever thought of treating me. He loves me. I said “I love you” on Christmas Day, and he made no hesitation saying it back. He gave me a card with my present that made reference to farting, which was hilarious, but inside he wrote the most beautiful note to me. I don’t want to be engaged to him or live with him right now. I love what we have. We understand each other. In almost four months, I’ve given him my stern voice, but we haven’t fought. We’ve opened each other’s worlds to new things and I no longer feel afraid to talk about the future with him. We talked about moving in together in six months when my lease is up, and I’m excited that we have more time to learn about each other before we take that huge step.

My ex-husband is my EX-husband. That means he is no longer mine to worry about. He lives a very different life than the one we had together, and though he was a very big part of my life for seven and a half years, I have to let him go because I also live a very different life than the one we had together. I am much happier and exponentially more vibrant. I laugh more and love more fully and openly because I love myself and understand my needs. My fellow has shown me that it can be better and I love him for it.

Here’s to moving onward and upward in love and positivity.

Future Stuff


Since my divorce, I get a little weird when someone starts talking to me about the future. “Let’s go to Costa Rica in March.” “What do you think about going to Vegas in the fall?” “Next Christmas, you’re going to have to wrap everything for me.” These are things WFB has said recently. He likes me. He REALLY likes me. I REALLY like him. This whole thing is freaking me out.
WFB has a female roommate and they are moving in the next month or two. My lease ends next week. There was brief discussion of combining our households, but that was quickly abandoned when we both had the “oh wow, shit’s getting real” moment. Neither of us has said the “L” word. The last fellow with which I shared “I love you’s” told me later that he never meant it, so I’m a bit frightened to let it out. I don’t know why I’m so terrified. A) That fellow was a certifiable sociopath and B) I’m pretty sure there’s a 98% chance WFB will say it back and mean it. Anyway, I told him last week that I was planning to sign a six month lease with my current place. Saturday, he and his roommate put in an application for a place not too far from me. The next day, he gave me the rundown of the place: big backyard, nice front porch, and two bedrooms, one larger and one smaller. He said his roommate would have the larger bedroom for the first six months, then they would switch. I gave him a puzzled look and he paused for a minute before saying that he would like for me to move in with them after my lease was up at the end of June. So… he sees a future with me. (AHHHH!!!)
Just in case there was any question that this fellow has serious feelings for me, this next thing is possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. We were sitting on the couch at my place watching some boob tube a week or two ago when he blurted out that he needed to go home to get something. I asked “‘home,’ like your apartment?” He replied that he meant his parents’ house, but then said he guessed that wasn’t really his home any longer. I tried to be cute by saying, “well, home is where your heart is…” He looked me in the eyes and said, “then I guess this is my home.”
This is what love is supposed to be! He tells me I’m beautiful and that he feels comfortable with me. We have “weird-offs” where we try to figure out which of us is the bigger weirdo (it’s him, for sure), and we laugh for hours. When it’s been a day or two since we saw each other, he holds me for a long time and whispers in my ear he missed me, and I know he’s sincere. He says he smiles more and is happier than he has been in a long time. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I know my ex-husband and I had a period of blind love, but we never had the level of comfort and mutual affection that I have in this relationship. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’m older and more experienced in life. I remember the stress of my ex-husband’s constant criticism and judgment. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, but I didn’t know that it could be better.
We’ve been together about three and a half months, which I know isn’t much time in the scheme of things, but I feel like I’ve found real love. I could share any thought or feeling, it would be heard, and feedback would be given with honesty but also with care. Sure, there are things that irritate me about him (no one should pop the collar of a sweater-coat), but they’re all silly small things that don’t matter in the big picture.
I’m still scared that I’m sugar-coating things between us, because I have a history of making my relationships seem more effortless than I let on. However, this relationship HAS been incredibly effortless and positively stress-free. I think I found a keeper.

WTF Universe?


Kathleen told me last week that my pheromones must be radioactive.

On Monday, I went to the gym as usual. I noticed several fellows looking my way during my workout, but I ignored them all. There is one fellow that I have had a few interactions with: I am always trying to move out of his way which makes him laugh because I’m never actually in his way. He introduced himself to me this time and we had a nice chat. After I got home and showered, I stationed myself on the couch to watch some boob-tube. At 9:30 pm, I received a text message from a number I deleted seven months ago. As much as I wanted to reply, “who is this?” I recognized the number and I just couldn’t do it. “Hello Sarah.” After staring at my phone for 30 minutes, all I could say was: “Hello, Adam.” He followed with a long apology that he treated me in a way I never deserved and he thought about me all of the time. I thanked him for the apology and said that I couldn’t have a conversation because I wasn’t ready to deal with the emotions he had just stirred up. I knew I would hear from him. I just didn’t know when. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Tuesday was my date with Whole Foods Boy (WFB). I thought about Adam all day, but as soon as WFB came to pick me up all my thoughts were re-focused. WFB and I didn’t communicate the next couple of days, but he sent me a message on Friday while I was working that he hoped to see me soon. I offered that he could come hang out with me that evening. I was doing some painting, and said he was welcome to come watch sports and listen to me sing while I created a masterpiece. He came over around 8:00. We watched a movie and cuddled on the couch. I expected him to head home when the movie was over, but instead he started kissing me pretty intensely. He suggested we move to my room and I went with it. You know that scene in Crazy, Stupid Love where Emma Stone’s character tells Ryan Gosling’s character that he had to have been photoshopped? Welcome to my Friday night. I asked when he had last been tested, and he went silent for a minute. He took so long to reply, I assumed he was fabricating a story. Finally, he said, “I’ve never been tested. I don’t have a lot of sex.” Uh, what? Anyway, some stuff happened and he spent the night. He buzzed out around 8 the next morning because he had to be at work at 9:00. He decided not to go out with me that night to Matt’s celebration because he had to work Sunday morning as well and didn’t want to be up late two nights in a row.

Flash forward 12 hours, and I meet Matt out for his birthday. Several people from work were supposed to meet us, and I couldn’t reach any of them. Long story short, I end up the lone female surrounded by Matt and six of his friends. Matt had been drinking since 1:30 in the afternoon and was pretty sauced when I showed up. He started telling his friends, and several ladies who were trying to hit on him, that I was going to marry him but I just hadn’t yet said ‘yes.’ Super awkward. Either he has terrible friends, or they were just drunk and horny because two of them tried to talk me into making out with them in the bathroom, one tried to convince me to move 100 miles west to live with him, and two others kept dancing on me and rubbing their junk on my butt. I will admit I got a good laugh when the two dancy fellows caught me in a Night at the Roxbury moment. If you have any ideas that I’m a good person, you might want to stop reading now. This is where my ethics take a nose-dive. I brought home one of Matt’s not so close friends, and then I had to drive him home this morning. When he got out of the car, he asked for my number and said he’d like to hang out sometime. Sorry, buddy. Things are a bit too complicated in my world to add another to the mix. All I could think about today was WFB: From the moment I woke this morning, driving the fellow home, at my parents’ house watching football, to this current moment. I feel awful about what I did, and it doesn’t help to tell myself that he’s not my boyfriend and I don’t know that we’re exclusive. These thoughts led me back to Adam. Now I can’t stop thinking about Adam. What does he want? He’s so bad for me, but I’ve always felt a gravitational pull to him. I also feel a strong connection to WFB. What else would have made me drive back to that store more than an hour after I left just to give him my number?

Coming full circle, I ran into my ex-husband at the grocery store tonight. I recognized his car and texted him that I thought I had parked next to him. When I came out of the store, he was sitting in his car waiting for me. We talked for an hour, then realized we were both headed to the same store after. I followed him there and we talked a bit more while we shopped. We ended up checking out at the same time. When I was finished, we hugged and said goodbye. It was so easy to talk to him. Maybe we will be able to be friends and let go of our tumultuous past together.

Now if only I can figure out what to do with all of these men!

My Ex, My Dad, and My Head


Jeff has been on my mind a bit lately, and not in a positive way. I’m not sure if he is truly happy with his child-girlfriend or if he is trying to make me jealous. I returned home from Seattle on a Tuesday. On Wednesday evening, Carrie sent a message: “Jeff is coming to Seattle this weekend and asked for cool places to visit. I’m going to see if he wants to get a drink and catch up if that’s okay with you.” Excuse me, WHAT? I begged him for three years to take me to Seattle to see Carrie. He has been with this gal for three months, tops, and he is flying her to MY sanctuary to see MY best friend. I told Carrie that we were all adults and had free will to do what we want. Carrie said they went for coffee because of his lady’s age, but she couldn’t stay long and didn’t get to chat with them long. He still hasn’t said anything about it to me, and I don’t know if he’ll ever bring it up. The twist of the knife came the next week when he brought her to the clinic where I work to make his appointment. Let me say that again: HE BROUGHT HIS GIRLFRIEND TO THE CLINIC WHERE I WORK. I don’t take fellows I’m dating to his place of work. What was he thinking? Of course my co-workers were abuzz about it and, thankfully, I didn’t see him while he was there. He came in on a particularly busy Tuesday afternoon, and it really is luck that we weren’t in the same room at the same time. Anyone who heard about it told me how disrespectful it was for him to act the way he did, but nothing anyone said could ease the pain. I sent him a text the day after I found out, asking him to not bring her to the clinic again and to treat me with a little more respect. He apologized, but it still wounded me and I struggled with my sadness for several days.

I went to lunch with my parents yesterday. They always ask about my dating life. Dad asked about Morgan, and I told them of the events from his birthday weekend. I could tell there was something Dad wanted to say while I was talking, but I was in a frenzy to tell them every last detail. As soon as I paused, he piped up: “would you be interested in meeting someone I work with?” “Why not?” I replied. I’m never opposed to meeting new people. I started asking questions about this mystery work fellow. He’s in his late 20s, does capoeira, and he’s a dark skinned fellow. My mom was ecstatic to learn that last tidbit, as she wants me to marry a black man so that I’ll have what she calls “adorable mixed babies.” The only catch is that he might be dating someone. Come on, Dad! You’re supposed to find these things out! I told him to give the fellow my phone number if he was indeed single, and we’ll go from there.

I confessed my seven year crush on Frank to my friend and co-worker, Sara last night. He works for the retinal physician that satellites our clinic every Tuesday morning. Frank arrived about seven years ago with the retina doc, when I was newly married. Tuesday morning is my time to do surgical paperwork, so I’m usually free to chit-chat as much as I care to, which Frank and I do as long as he isn’t crazy busy. We used to talk about how we both had long commutes and talked about our relationships with our significant others. I know all about his son: how he didn’t learn to drive until last year when he turned 18 and was going off to college. He knew me married, through my divorce, and now as a single lady. The last time we spoke, he was dating a lady from his clinic and I thought they were still together. When we chatted last week, he told me how he was riding his bike and was hit by a car. He broke his right arm, and we joked about how hard it is to wipe your ass with your left hand and pull on your pants one-armed. I asked if he had anyone to help him while all of that was going on, and he said no. His son was off at college and his mom couldn’t help. He made no mention of his, I assume, former girlfriend. This sparked something in me, if only to make my crush a little stronger. He’s 12 years older, but we seem to connect. Our conversations flow like water, and we always have the perfect sarcastic jab for the other. However, I don’t have the balls to ask him out. Number one: I’m worried about rejection. Number two: what if we go out, it doesn’t work out, and we still have to see each other every Tuesday? Number three: what if it works out and we have a wonderful life together? Am I ready for that? Sara tells me to not to pursue him, but rather let him come to me. If he doesn’t, then it’s not meant to be. I’m inclined to agree with her, unless it’s another year and he hasn’t asked me out. I may grow pair in that length of time.

I’m reading a fantastic book right now: You Can Heal Your Heart. The subtitle is Finding Peace After a Breakup, Divorce, or Death. It’s not super long, but it’s very insightful. I highly recommend it to anyone who is having trouble getting over a relationship. I found myself unable to get over Morgan, which was completely ridiculous as we only dated a little over one month. I discovered I was holding onto feelings from old relationships that I had never truly let go. It is full of positive affirmations and teaches self-love. Last night, I posted the words, “The Universe sends me the perfect people for the perfect lessons” on my dresser mirror. On the bathroom mirror, “I love and accept myself. I am worth it.” On another mirror in my room, “Happiness is my destiny.” I already feel worlds better, and it can only go up from here.



Life has been incredible lately.

I made a realization this past weekend while spending time with my friends at the lake. It has taken me 31 years to make friends that I know I’ll have for life. Friends that will be there for me at the drop of a hat and friends that will listen without judgement. If I were to pick up my life and transplant to a city 1800 miles away, I would have to start all over again. Would it take me another 31 years to make those kinds of friends again? For the past two years I’ve been struggling to think of reasons to stay, but for the past couple of months I’ve been struggling to come up with reasons to leave. I love Carrie with all my heart and she will always be my best friend, but she has a life without me and has for several years. I’m not sure how I would fit into her life on a regular basis. Seattle is an amazing city. I feel at home when I’m there: the people are great, the city is beautiful… but my friends aren’t there. My family isn’t there. If I left, I wouldn’t be able to see all of the wonderful people with whom I have chosen to surround myself. I have had many days where I didn’t know what I wanted from life, but the more positive vibes I have around, the more clarity I seem to have.

I sent my ex-husband a birthday card this week. He got it two days early. I guess I should have hung onto it a little longer. Though he could never seem to remember my birthday (same day, every year…), I never forget to give him a card on his. He texted me today to say ‘thank you,’ and I was glad to hear from him. I was in a bad place when we last communicated and I was eager to patch things up. I genuinely want to be his friend, as long as he can keep his snarky comments to himself.

Aury continues to text me. I’m not really sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, I want to help him because I know he doesn’t have much support. On the other hand, I feel no obligation to hold on. Our relationship taught me a lot about myself and what I will and will not tolerate from a partner. He seemed emotionally available and supportive at times, but then he would turn cold and almost hateful other times. Writing that last bit, I wonder if he has bipolar disorder. The last time we had any communication, he made a bunch of excuses why he couldn’t go out and meet new people and make friends. I told him he had to leave the pity party in order to grow. I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days.

Things in my current love life continue to be amazing. While I was at the lake with my friends, Morgan messaged me all day, every day. He even sent a message Saturday night that said “when are you coming back to me?” He had been drinking a bit, but I still think it was incredibly sweet. I’m still a bit worried about the new-ness wearing off, but we have fantastic conversations and we enjoy a lot of the same things. My brother wants to take me to a Royal’s game as a belated birthday gift next weekend, and I want to ask Morgan to go. It’s not meeting my parents, but it’s meeting part of my family. I wonder if it’s too soon, but I’m torn because I know we would have fun and weekends are the only time we have to see each other. I hate to rush a good thing when I can take it easy and just enjoy the ride. I’ll figure it out. I always do…

Just Bitching


Not sure where he got the impression, but apparently I’m supposed to resume my role in raising my ex-husband. He wants to make a couple of doctor appointments. I received this text today:
“so how do I check to see what my insurance covers? do the Drs tell me or the insurance companies”

I have worked in the medical field for 9 years. He heard me bitch and moan about people not knowing their insurance coverage for more than 7 years…

Also, when did he forget how to capitalize the beginning of a sentence and use punctuation?