I crossed the couch and unintentionally started a relationship with A just over 6 months ago. Back then, if someone had said I would be separated, D and I wouldn’t be together anymore, and I’d be in love with A and dating actively, I would have told them they were smoking some awesome drugs. But that is my reality. Six months, A and I have been together. He’s never said he loves me, although I think he likes me and the time we have together a bit more than a little. Do I care that he knows I love him, and he’s never said it? Not even a little. I’m happy with what we have, including him and his reluctance to talk about feelings.
I saw my person for the first time in a couple weeks. I updated her on the goings on in my life and it took 45 minutes to just give the brief explanation because my life is weird, and awesome, and so very fucking full. I realized again, just how much support I have in my life. I’m so lucky.
Among the things that happened this week is that I found my first cheating asshole! I’m very clear with every man that messages me on OKC that I am polyamorous, I’m not interested in casual sex, I’m not anyone’s unicorn, and if there is a wife or significant other in the picture, that person needs to be 100% in the know before I even consider dating someone. Well, I went out with a guy. Had an amazing kiss in my parking lot (did I mention that I had 3 first kisses in that parking lot in the last week? Well, I did) The next day, I got a text from his wife telling me that he was breaking all their rules and that he was lying to me and to her. So. Not. Cool. So, I obviously walked the fuck away from that without looking back.
I’ve been staying at my parents when F is parenting in our house and this week I had a great talk with my step-dad. This guy is the most amazing father figure. He’s been there for me, for my sister, and for my kids more than any other male figure has been. He told me he was proud of me. That he was happy that I finally realized what was going on between F and I and that I stepped away from the dysfunction. He was supportive and awesome and loving and amazing and totally dad-like. It was so refreshing. It was one of those dad conversations that won’t happen again for years, but I feel better, and anchored, because of it.
I got the second part of my tattoo done. It didn’t escape me that the flower bud that represents my second miscarriage was what was the most painful! But damn is it amazing!!! I’m so happy with it.
The other day, F and I had our second collaborative meeting with our lawyers. It went so well that we actually got up and hugged each other part of the way through. It was incredible actually, to be laughing and joking and having fun while discussing divorce proceedings. Things seem to be working out as far as that goes. We’re actually getting along reasonably well and the kids are doing well too. We told them that we are separated last week, and they reacted as well as can be expected. They actually seem to be doing quite well with it all and only time will tell how quickly they adjust.
So much is going so well for me right now. I realized that I’m actually truly, unequivocally happy. Content in my life, my strength, my independence. Loving my kids and my jobs and my boyfriend and dating new and interesting people. For the first time in a year, I don’t feel stressed or sad or angry. I just am. I’m in control of as much of my life as I can be, have accepted the parts of life I cannot change, and am moving forward with intention, joy, love, and independence. I am whole again.