Thursday, February 26, 2015

An Affair to Remember

While I'm kind of crushing on a single dad at the school (who's a buff combination of Rupert Everett’s and Kyle MacLachlan's younger selves) I have Lilly’s daddy at the house every night making dinner (at least he cooks) and playing happy families.

What's a (mostly) single mom to do?  It would be cramping my style if I had a life outside my sorry little universe.

He cosseted himself in the guest room tonight on his cell, and by his buoyant confident tone and throwing in the occasional French-phrase, I knew it was her. (Like Gomez Adams she's a sucker for his French). 

She's having such a hard time (getting rid of her husband) the poor lamb. Well sorry, that's the price you pay for opting for an affair with the first smooth talker who comes along instead of cleaning up your own back yard.   Mind you, who am I to take the moral high ground?  I chose the latter and look where it got me? Har har. wee  bit of wronged-wife-humor there.
It just annoys me that he keeps on about missing me, missing ‘us’ and asking if I think we have a chance to get it back. I’ve told him as long as he has a girlfriend and is wearing another woman’s ring – he has no right to even ask that let alone expect and answer.

But we all know – I’m so done. As Carrie Bradshaw said once; We're so OVER we need a new word for over.”

I could never trust this man EVER again. Example: he’s been letting Lilly play on his iPad (our ex-family iPad) and there was no passcode. He left it at the house after volunteering to collect Lilly from school and guess what; He passcode locked it before he left.  He actually almost left it behind one day then came immediately back to get it saying it needed charging.

Doesn’t he realise, that in itself speaks volumes? I don’t need to see any more of their secrets. It’s enough know he’s making such an effort at subterfuge.

As for me I’m pretty sure, like a successful marathon runner, I’ve crashed the pain barrier. I’m working on my professional reinvention, and so far it’s going well...I’ve started running every night-well if Lilly’s dad’s going to hang around for dinner, I figure  he can babysit, while I get fit.  Both efforts are building up my confidence and determination to rise out of these ashes phoenix style.

And it gives me more energy for the emotional fuckwittage, vocational advice, and home therapy. (ear to the door): I love the way he’s so strong and competent and buoyant for her; the conquering hero boyfriend she can turn to with all her troubles.  That’s how he was with me in the early days. But I get to be the advisor, shoulder, the ear, often the crutch.

On the upside the power has shifted. I tell him what’s happening, I redecorate my home, I make decisions for Lilly and myself and he has to suck it up.  That part I love. And he’s having to admit (regularly) that I’m bloody good at it. 
That’s the fun part.

So it looks like he may take this job in London, and I think a lot of his trying to keep me on the hook is about my compliance with regular Lilly visits, and maybe even sucking me into moving over there with her too.  You see, my attraction for him now is that Lilly is a package deal – without me he can’t have her.
But I’m sad for Lilly, because she loves him so.
There are lingering trust issues that flare up every now and again into spectacular tantrums.
One of her teachers even suggested: ‘He’s so lost – she needs a bit of space from him and to spend time with other family members or friends.’ 

That’s probably true; we are in a very insular and not too healthy situation, but how her face lights up when she sees him.

I'll work on that one.



Meanwhile, my sexy single dad fantasy, has his own baggage; a notorious young son who by all accounts (of which there are many) spends most of his day sitting outside the principal's office.



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