So yesterday I got to thinking. This is stupid. What Douche and I had was much more important than whatever he had with his two-week long girlfriend, right? We could go to counseling, we could sleep in separate bedrooms, we could - - I don't know. Not get divorced.
So I told him this.
His reply was, "If that woman called me tomorrow and said she wanted to give it another try, I would say yes."
Wheee! I'm sorry, what? Can you twist that knife in my stomach just a little bit more, Dear?
So, apparently what we had wasn't important enough to him. After I got over the initial shock of hearing this, I was able to say, "Well. I guess there isn't anything left to say." And I hung up.
I did feel a little bit stronger today. Well, I guess I should say I'm "having a strong day today" because tomorrow I might be a weeping mess of goo. Douche even told me, "I don't know if I'm going to be talking to Joking Deanna, Sad Deanna, Mad Deanna - it changes everyday." And he's right. That about sums me up.
I'm still doing Zumba and hanging out with friends and family as much as possible. My mom and stepdad have been awesome these past two weeks, helping me feel a little bit more financially secure and my mom tried to redecorate my whole house so I had some new Doucheless stuff. My dad, who was a fireman like Douche is, is going to help me make a list of firefighter pay benefits that I can take to my lawyer so she doesn't have to do as much work - - thus making the retainer last longer. My stepmom has been calling me and checking up on me, offering to make me dinner or buy me a manicure. My friend Ed went to see a really bad movie with me (thanks Ed). My friend Lynne brought me flowers, donuts, and oranges and took me out for margaritas. My friend Lisa always listens to my sobbing vents and never acts like she's sick of hearing them. My friend Jill keeps reading this depressing blog and sends me detailed Facebook messages and advice. My friend Kim is doing Zumba with me three days a week. My stepsister Jill has been sending me smiling baby texts of her little girl and calls it "Baby Therapy" which always makes me smile. My stepsister Jamie has given me lots of "I know exactly how you're feeling" advice because she's been in my shoes and she's still single (which means she doesn't have to rush home to a happy husband and I don't have to cope with happy when I'm with her). My brother Ty has been facebooking me a little more often and making me laugh. He also lets me and Erik come over to his house which Erik LOVES. My sister-in-law Erin sent me so many inspirational texts one day that I was cracking up. At work I've gotten hugs from Sandy, Liz, Deb, and my principal. My friend Dave drives by Douche's house and flips him off for me. And I can't forget my little boy who gives me lots of tight hugs, says "Awww" and gives me kisses.
I really do have a wonderful support system right now. And there's some comfort in knowing that Douche probably does not. He's told me that all of his remaining friends are either very disappointed in him or just avoid the issue altogether saying it's none of their business. And for some reason (not sure why though) he's very depressed and angry. Part of that may be because things didn't work out with the other woman who ended up going back to her husband and texted mine saying he didn't even mean anything to her. You're right, Douche. "Karma is a bitch."
Speaking of which, I was finally able to delete Douche on Facebook. Not an easy thing since I was stalking him on a daily basis. I cried pretty hard when I did that. I also sadly deleted my stepdaughters (I messaged the older one telling her it was nothing personal and to take care of one another) and unsadly deleted my mother-in-law. I also deleted any close friends of Douche's that would remain his friends so I didn't have to see their stupid happy-go-lucky posts. When I did that, I was making a choice to MOVE ON. Move forward. Everytime I looked at his page, it was a big step in the wrong direction. And now that there's absolutely no chance of a reconciliation, it's time to move on. Even if it's hard as hell.
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