My body is wrecked. Numb. Muscles aching from holding on for dear life. Today was moving day. But not for me. For The Genius. Yet my body feels like I did the heavy lifting.
He came to empty the garage of his belongings and move into his house. I feel like a tornado came through here, and in the midst of it all I relived every emotion I have had since the Pocket Call, since the discovery of his infidelity.
I evacuated more crap through my brain today than a newborn on mother’s milk. My heart just ached. Deeply ached. Not because The Genius is moving out, nor that he’s moving in nearby, but because I feel like I’m on an island.
Check that. My heart ached because I allowed myself to feel like I’m on an island. So, that’s how I felt. And it hurt.
The tall dude was bouncing with energy upon waking Sunday morning to see Daddy. I got up early to make them a hot breakfast so they would be fed and dressed before he arrived. During the night the little dude crawled into bed with me. I kissed him as I left for the kitchen, staring into his massive blue puddles, suggesting that he cuddle up with High Maintenance Kitty and sleep some more. He stroked my cheek, asked for a nose kiss and told me I was a great cuddler. I left for the kitchen feeling loved, content and rested.
I figured this would be like any other day with a Genius sighting. I thought I was prepared. Stay centered, relax, it will be over soon. I was so very wrong.
My emotions ran wild. Instead of focusing on the fact that I’m one step closer to being solely a co-parent with him, I chose to go back in time. It wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it happened. And it upended me.
I thought about how The Genius is begging for me to be all friendly with him (although even if I was the Hostess of the Year that wouldn’t be good enough), never comprehending that it’s a near impossible feat when I think about the text I received a few days back that read:
You can hold onto my betrayal of you as something that is the worst thing ever, but it’s a farce.
He went on to say the stuff about how I didn’t care about him enough as a person to have any empathy for what’s it like to be discarded by me – “YOU think you were the only one discarded here. Not true.”
The affair, the four years of lies, that wasn’t that bad for you, c’mon! Look at me, all discarded and stuff!
You never liked me anyway. (He says, not understanding the irony of that statement. There was no reason to like you had I known what you were doing to me behind my back.)
The two statements, me holding onto betrayal and The Genius feeling discarded, have nothing to do with each other. The events they reference happened four years apart. Yet he tied them together. He showed me zero respect for four years, reducing that time in my life to one massive memory of betrayal. Stripping away the joy surrounding the first four years of the little dude’s five year long life and replacing them with feelings of, How could I have been so dumb? For that long.
How can he say that the pain that results from being lied to by your spouse for years is a farce?
And now he wants me to get a job and forgo the one year in the little dude’s life where I can create non-toxic memories in our one-on-one time together while the tall dude is at school? And he thinks I’m childish, irresponsible and rude for not wanting to hop all over that idea? He brings his mistress into my house when I clearly forbid him to do so? And he wonders why I’m not stoked to go through our pots and pans together, deciding who gets what? Or why I can’t make eye contact with him? Or why I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him? Why I don’t respect him? Why I feel totally disrespected by him? He judges me for wanting to remain a stay-at-home mom but bristles when I express that I can’t trust him based on his deceitful past?
So, after that small sampling of pungent, brutal thoughts I started to realize this day was becoming a real downer. Not quite a pity party, more like a solo journey thought the land of pit and pity.
I won’t keep you on this train for much longer. It’s so not why we are all here. Suffice it to say, I wrapped the day facing west at sunset, realizing that the boys don’t get it. Nor should they. Nor can they. The two people that I spend the majority of my time with, the two people to whom I am the most devoted, the two people whom I love with all my heart and soul have no clue as to why I am sad.
It’s not for them to know now. But that doesn’t mean I’m on an island. Just because Dad is all shiny to them doesn’t mean they don’t love me deeply. Just because they don’t know what he did to me doesn’t make it any less despicable.
Today was a rough day. I’m having a hard time getting my feelings and emotions and thoughts settled enough to write it out. I’m going to get a good night’s sleep and continue this post tomorrow night, after I’ve had a chance to ponder some more.
Before I go, I want to leave you with a quote sent to me in a comment today from M. The words are perfectly suited for where my heart is at right now. While I feel like I’ve just spat out a bunch of woe is me and blah, blah, blah, know that I am swirling these words around in my being and believe them completely:
“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
Because of these words I will sleep well tonight. These words serve to reinforce that, regardless of the challenges of the day, I must remain focused on the overall journey. These painful times will be contrasted by equally beautiful times. When I get back to center I will begin to see more clearly. I know that. I believe it.
Soon, this pain will pass…tomorrow I will hike Mt. Tam from Stinson Beach, taking the long route. I’m aiming for 22 miles. I want to sweat and shred and burn. I haven’t hiked since I returned from Whitney but for a few five-milers here and there. I can state with total certainty that I need it. In the best possible way. And I deserve to do it.
Thank you so much for holding my hand these past few days. They’ve been bat crazy. Especially today. I will bundle up all the tears and sadness and angst and leave it on the mountain in your honor, and come back to you a more gentle, centered and optimistic Cleo.