So it has been months, I have started writing plenty of times and have always had some excuse as to why I never finished a post. I literally have five drafts just sitting there waiting and have just a huge block in my mind when it comes to finishing them. The reason why seems to be that I wait to long, that I forget the emotion and the feelings I had at those moments and once it escapes then it’s gone, simply lost forever. I have a ton of emotion right now, I don’t really know how to deal with it all and so I am writing in hopes of drawing some conclusion or at the very least getting it all off my chest.
It all started in July, Peter Pan and I moved in together and everything was great, well at least for us. I now have a new
pain in the ass stress inducer in my life we will call the cunt of an ex-wife Satan. She just pleasant and so much fun to be around, I enjoy her company and everything is wonderful, or at least I hope it will be one day. The truth is I have never met a more miserable petty immature woman in my life. If I had taken her husband, slept with Peter Pan when they were still dating and ran away with him I would expect this, however I did nothing of the sort. Their relationship was long over, the paperwork signed and the case was closed by the time I met Peter Pan. So why the hell fire, I don’t really know. The way I see it there are two sets of issues here, the surface issues the things that happen that people see and comment on. The way our interactions go, the things she does directly to me, Peter Pan and my child. Then we have the internal struggle, the fight to stay out of my own head on the matter. I have never been with someone who had and entire life before me that was under my nose most of the time. I guess that I should disclaim now that this post will be a bitch fest, a pile of word vomit and nowhere near as fun as my post have been in the past……..
Yesterday was my
step daughters boyfriend’s daughter’s birthday party, I would have said “step daughter” but there is apparently some golden ticket that I forget to get when I went through the customs process of moving in. It was miserable, I mean seriously, let’s cram 20 people into a space where no one wants anything to do with each other and all smile for the kids sake. Great plan, until Satan is yelling at Peter Pan in regard to my mother and son and different things that are this person and that person’s fault. I’m sorry but you are almost 40, is it really necessary to throw a piece of cake down in front of my five year old because you don’t like me? Is this how we want to show the children to act? You want to throw cake down in front of someone do it in front of me. Hell I don’t care if you want to spit in my cake, but don’t fuck with take it out on my little boy I would really hate to have to take you into the parking lot and beat you over the head make a scene at the party. I bit my tongue and grit my teeth, I focused on the kids and spent time with the moms who had to endure the insanely tense party all because their kids go to the same preschool as the girl. ( To remain anonymous I will refer to the children as the girl, my step-daughter boyfriend’s little girl; His 8-year-old boy is boy 1; and my five-year old will be boy 2). There was a total melt down when the boys started punching the girl’s Olaf balloon, Satan turned to Peter Pan and said” you need to handle this, and Boy 1 is not the problem here”. I find this funny because everyone who knows us and knows the kids knows with the boys it is monkey see, monkey do. So if you want to complain about my son being the issue, let’s talk about the other day when the boys were playing and your son had mine pinned on the ground in a headlock. Oh I’m sorry every issue in your children’s life is my fault, or my sons fault. I forgot that little detail….whoops my bad. Then there was the heckling in Spanish from the peanut gallery her family, so sweet of you to refer to me as a “gringa”, I really appreciate the compliment(inside joke, I am not racist by any means) but unfortunately I am cut from the same cloth as you tactless cunts all are. It’s really sad that someone would rather make their child’s party miserable for all those involve, rather than to just suck it up for a day. I mean if I can bite my tongue with you being the way you are and your family is why can’t you? I mean nobody is talking about you or ignoring you. My own mother tries to be nice to you. Hell I don’t know why but I even try to be nice to you, still after the issues at Boy 1’s birthday, after the numerous attacks on my relationship. Great news I will never try to talk to you again, EVER, I am done being nice. I am done holding onto hope that one day we can at least be civil, you will always be a cunt you.
So there is all that the dealings with her, the way things go and how she behaves and then there is the issue of my own head space. They had an entire life together, I get to deal with her for the next 14 years and 4.5 hours pacific standard time, she is mean, rude and a straight bully. I don’t feel like I get stood up for, I am supposed to be the bigger person and just grin and bear it, how is that fair? I can’t say anything, he won’t say anything. So here we sit, stale and at a total standstill. Why do my feelings go at the waist-side? And if you’re not going tot stand up for me at least allow me to take a stand for the people I care about and love, you included. Then there are the constant reminders of the 17 years he had with her that truly break my heart. Why does this mean evil person get 17 years with the man of my dreams? While I was being beaten and verbally abused, while I was in a marriage that ended in everyone blaming me for the ending, despite the fact that my ex husband had a baby less than six months after we split up. You,
you evil bitch you got him, you treated him like shit, you broke his heart and I could hate you for that alone. The kids, our dogs (or my step dogs? I am not sure if I need a golden ticket for dog inheritance or not, I shall clarify and get back to you), the timeshare they owned together, the fucking hideous red couches that sit in the living room, the pictures in the garage that I would truly love to throw away and pretend like I don’t know what happened to them . It’s everywhere and I don’t know how to handle it, I try to ignore it but every time I find something I feel as though my heart stops beating for a moment and an elephant is sitting on my chest. I came second, she had him, she had the house, she was the mother of his children, they spent most of their adult life together. She got the romantic proposal at Christmas in the park, one of my favorite places to be….EVER and it’s ruined for me. She got the $40,000 dollar wedding at the Chaminade and I am here trying to squeeze every dollar out of our weeding plans. Cutting things that I would like to have just so we can have something nice at a low price, so we aren’t blowing money. In all honesty the $40,000 wedding is more than I would ever want or need but shouldn’t I have that option if I want it? I keep saying she got the fairytale and I got the after math and I think I am really learning more each day what that means and it sucks. I am just trying to blend my family and fighting to keep your relationship alive while doing that is hard enough on all of us without the bitch her. I can feel the line being drawn in our family, between all the kids, the stress on us, it breaks my heart to think about it. Yes, I know everyone has a past, and I had a relationship before Peter Pan as well but it’s never anywhere near him. I have no remnants, I come with no ties to my ex-husband, my sons father lives three states away and we don’t interact with him more than 20 minutes a month for pick up and drop off when he is in town. I don’t know how he feels about all this but he has never said anything, I really wish I didn’t care. Maybe this is the fact that I am in my twenties showing through or maybe it’s just my own little bit of crazy, I have no clue.
So where do I go from here? I feel like there is no winning. I do what he asks, and I feel like I am denying myself the chance to be stood up for if I don’t do it myself. I am “letting” her treat my son like garbage. I am “letting” her spit on everyone I love and care about, but my hands are tied. I am in no way willing to jeopardize what I have with Pete Pan. So I sit here, stuck between this rock and this hard place. I am only sure of a few things in all of this; one, I love Peter Pan and he is the love of my life, two, my family is my priority…all five of us and I cannot behave the way she does because of
my kids the children and three, misery loves company, and I refuse to let my family and I be hers…….
14 years….3 hours….45 minutes and counting.