09 March 2009

welcoming the wrecking ball

i think the hardest choices in life are the ones in which we have no say. obviously, there's the banal side to this statement for things such as weather or death - things we couldn't control if we tried. i'm more referring to the ones that other people or circumstances decide for us: those are harder for me to grasp because my mind plays the "what if?" game until i'm physically ill. not that knowing what could have happened if makes me feel any better - i generally feel worse. the fact remains that there's nothing i can do to change the outcome.

i know you all know what i'm talking about. but i'm referring to the bee and i. just a few days ago, our attitude was that we were going to try to work things out, over a period of time and in baby steps. it wasn't a spoken decision, it was an underlying theme to all our conversations. for the good of the baby, for the connection we had, for what we felt for each other - there was enough foundation there to perhaps rebuild the shanty that once stood with a nice, pre-fab modern structure. this morning the construction crew went on strike and all plans have been scrapped.

it's over.

this morning he says that he told me those things because he wanted to be nice. he doesn't love me anymore - he's reached his breaking point and is moving on. he will continue to care for me, in terms of my general health, but he'll wait to hear about the baby when he gets the letter in the mail from the department of human services. he has no connection to anything or anyone here any longer.

if i weren't already feeling so bad this morning, i probably would have cried to the point of vomiting. the thing is, somewhere deep down, i knew this was coming. i knew that any reconciliation would be like putting a band-aid on open heart surgery - a temporary solution to an enormous issue.

i had hoped, in typical needy-female fashion, that in spite of all our difference and difficulties that he and i would be able to pull it together for the sake of the child and that eventually all our problems and faults would fall to the wayside and a new kind of relationship would develop. don't misunderstand - that's happening here. it's just happening as we sit 70 miles apart and the problems don't matter much as the relationship that is developing is the one between two people who apparently can't be with or deal with one another.

it's not exactly what i had in mind. but how naive am i to believe that a baby could be the glue to hold us together? i'm going on 30 years old - it's a pretty pathetic storyline for someone who claims to be as smart as i like to think i am.

the thing that chaps my ass about all this? he's reached his breaking point, he's ready to move on. the natual question that comes to mind for me - where in the hell is my breaking point? why am i not ready to move on? why do i let him hurt me so much, why do i need him in my life, why do i cry over him when i know he's certainly not crying over me? where has my sense of self-worth gone? beyond being the partial creator of this child, what makes him so freaking special that he's worth my time?

i'm angry. i'm so, so angry. i'm angry with him for so many reasons but mostly i'm angry with myself for letting it get this far. i'm angry that i feel this hurt; i'm angry that i've let myself come to depend on someone whose only dependable trait is that they're chronically undependable.

some humor in all that diatribe though? if the dumbass doesn't submit a change of address to the post office he'll never know that he has a son; all his mail will come here and gather dust in the grocery sack in the closet. it's not my job to deliver his mail. although i would consider swapping it for a couple of sham-wows, the slimy bastard.


so here i am, monday morning (again!?) and i'm supposed to be getting ready to go to the doctor for my 30-week check-up and then going to work. i'm not sure how much work i'll accomplish today: it seems that in the last week while hacking and coughing and carrying on like a lifelong smoker with terminal emphysema i've managed to literally twist my rib cage a little off center which is causing a tremendous amount of pain. i can't stand, i can't sit, i can't lie down - when i cough i want to fall over. and sneezing? i will attempt to blow out an ear drum or an eyeball before i'll let a sneeze escape these lips, otherwise i'll be wishing i were wearing rubber pants and sitting in the bathtub. it's just not pretty. ahh, the glorious side of being pregnant - the side no one tells you about. like wetting yourself on a regular basis or that your skin will thin out to the point where you can see each and every vein in your chest, no one tells you that all your joints become loose and lethargic to the point where it's actually possible to give yourself an injury like twisting your rib cage. see, if people knew this kind of stuff going in there would probably be far fewer babies. pregnancy is not for the weak.

on a happier note, and there is no sarcasm here - i'm truly happy about this - mom and i ordered brodie's crib and changing table this week and on saturday night i ordered his crib bedding and curtains and such. i'm excited to get things put together and in order, to help with planning a shower and washing little socks. his room will be adorable, although if what i hear is true, he won't actually spend a lot of time in his room for quite a while. that's okay; it'll look nice.

so yeah. i'm going to go get in the shower and carry on with life as best i can. it's not what i'd hoped for and not what i'd planned but how often do we really get what we want anyway? somebody bigger and smarter than me obviously knows what is going on here, i'm just waiting to hear the details.

superjanel OUT.

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