03-27-10

The Weather is Here, Wish You Were Beautiful

There has been a lot of talk about Atlanta. It started in the backyard on a crisp star filled night. It was the first time I spoke with Tapan on a deeper level than:

T: can I see you naked?
S: no.
T: fine. You hate me.

He told me he wanted to see me in a bigger area where I would thrive, even if it wasn’t Nyc. He suggested Atlanta. I put it on my list below Pittsburgh, Houston and New York but before San francisco. It fell off just as quickly.

Soon i landed a great job locally after rationalizing staying here was good for the kids to be close to their family here. Soon the list was obsolete.

Now that I work with Bridgevine, I hear it all the time. Their satellite offices are in Atlanta. I lost bunny du jour to Atlanta. Now it’s back on the list, because apparently the list is back.

Why is the list back? Staying closer to their father was not the awesome idea it originally looked like. Things went missing in the house: vacuums, clothes, cooking utensils. He became a douche to the people (person)I was seeing.

My support system fell away to reveal itself as his support system and suddenly I was the douchebag, the “other person” in the relationship he lost in his indiscretions. But his choices and his lies weighed no match against my outsider status, and so it came to be: I destroyed everything by not wanting to play by his rules
Anymore.

My biggest mistake was staying, i set myself up in the weaker position, at least the first time I left I had control: this was on my terms. This time, however, I broke through some traps but still ended up in others. Just because you missed the snare trap by landing in the bear trap doesn’t mean you won’t still have to chew your own leg off. Nom. :(

So the list is back, because there is nothing left here amongst the ruins. My landlord won’t fix this candy coated pooh of an apt with walls so thin you can hear a fly sneeze. I have no one to spend holidays with and despite spending 100 hours a week with my kids, I am constantly berated by my ex as “not wanting to spend time with them” when i need a weekend off. The kids tell me I’m mean, cry for their grandmother and father because they don’t agree with a parent actually acting like a parent… And I am done.

Perhaps I am confusing a glimmer of stability as the whole shebang. Maybe this puddle is just an oasis in a five year dessert of insanity.

Then again, maybe it will end up being just another decision I end up regretting. The new list: Houston, Atlanta, Pittsburgh…as if the choice will ever ultimately be up to me. Oft.

03-27-10

Now. Change.

The actress breaks down in monologue picked up by two monitors on stage. The audience laughs as she shares the story of her husband leaving her for a geriatric grandma with a fake hip.

I’m not laughing. I’m breaking down in tears. Act 2, Scene 8 of I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change struck a little too close to home.

Follow that by the scene “Funerals Are For Dating” where they talk about life after the person you spent your life with passes away, and I might have been the only person crying at a comedy in years. (i definetly was the only one carrying a cycle helmet instead of a handbag, but that is a different post entirely.)

Overall it was a cute show, I had no idea what it was about going in. One of the benefits of going to a show alone is you get great seats. One of the negatives: there really wasn’t one. It’s funny how the fates can put you where you need to be at the exact moment you need to be there to hear the exact thing you need to hear when you need it most… Even if it happens to mean you in the darkness of a stuffy, mothball and old cologne washed theatre laughing and crying and laughing to one of those cheesey kitch shows you always scoffed at.