So what have I been doing with myself, you ask?

February 28, 2008

Well, last night I listened to Bach and ate a bag of Cheetos while I sat on the couch that still has nearly three-year’s worth of garage dust caked on it. It looked much nicer seven years ago when I bought it in downtown Boston.

Pretty exciting, yes?

The blind guy came and installed blinds yesterday, and no, he wasn’t actually blind. He had good eyesight from what I could tell.

Having my own garage is lovely and lonely, all at the same time. My dichotomy is evident, once again.

Eric, the blind guy, asked me what was in the aquarium when he saw all the shredded newspaper.

“A mouse,” I replied, wondering if I should leave it at that. After a second or two, I decided to engage instead of withdraw. “I bought him as snake food but then I named him, so now he’s a pet.”

“Do you still have the snake?” he asked, just making conversation while he drilled holes in the window frames.

“No,” I said, leaving it at that — an uncharacteristically short answer.

A little further into the conversation I said something about my dog, and he asked, “You don’t still have the dog?”

“No,” I tried again, but I could tell that just a plain “no” wasn’t going to do it. “I lost him in the move.”

“Oh,” replied Eric sympathetically. “You found a good home for him, then?”

“Yes,” I said, not wanting to share that Smokey was Jon’s dog, really. He loves us and we love him, but he’s Jon’s dog, as all things were Jon’s, including the garage.

And Jon tells me, “Angela, you left because you were unhappy. People don’t leave to get their own garages.”

And I want to say, “I left because you didn’t treat me well.” But I’ve said it a thousand times and he just rolls his eyes at me, so I’ve stopped saying it and just let him talk. I’m determined that he likes it that way.

“She hasn’t called me in four weeks,” he tells Babs when she stops by to see him because she misses him. Tell me, dear reader, can you think of any reason why I should?

“LJ’s mom is mad at you,” he says, as if somehow this is going to encourage me to come home. Oh, wow. Let me start packing my stuff and call the movers again. When is LJ’s mom not mad?

So I share my bitterness with you today, knowing that it finds root in and with you and that there are very few who stop by these pages who don’t understand. Thank you for that understanding. It means more than you can know.




  1. Aw, sweetie. I don’t know what to say. I’ll put my arms around you and hug you tight and just reiterate what you and I both know — it does get better if you let it get better. Let it assume a life of its own and run its course. And, does it feel fucking awful? Of course it does. You’ll do it, though. I know that you will.

  2. Thank you, Ian. It really is fucking awful. And I feel grateful to have hid the majority of it from family, co-workers and my daughter. But I find myself tearing up a lot and sometimes just all out crying on my bathroom floor. It’s okay. It’s part of it. I learned that through the first one — that you sit and cry on the bathroom floor and then something wonderful happens and you forget all about the crying. It’s part of the process. I’m trying to keep a chin up by honoring that. Your hugs help. Thank you, truly. From my heart.

  3. forgive me for being slow. But I think I now get it. M’dear, I am so sorry for what is going on. Since I’m not sure how bad it all is, I can not possibly advise, however, you sound awfully sad. I hate to think of you so sad. Sending a big hug and putting positive thoughts your way. Pool.

  4. Woman, I am so glad it’s you. No wonder I thought Say It was such a cool person. I think it’s time for me to morph, too. 😉 It is what it is, and it’s not as bad as the last time (not nearly — not even in the same BALL PARK), so it’s okay. Not great, but okay. The Phoenix has to die to rise again, yes? Here’s to the rising. (See, your powerful positive thoughts are working already.) Thank you, my dear. Truly. You all are the best!

  5. Such a rough, sad, awful time. (And I do understand.) Stay strong – although I know that can be hard to do. And don’t let the bitterness destroy your beautiful spirit.

  6. Beth ~ Thank you, sweet lady. I grieve for anyone who has gone through loss, but know that it deepens and opens us to be able to feel joy even more deeply than we did before. Thank you for your kind words. I feel infinitely more strong than bitter, fortunately. I know I just need to let myself *feel* the bitterness so it will pass. I hope that you are doing well!

  7. Do not despair A. Just live out the process and take solace from what you can. Time ticks by, hearts slowly mend, and the sun will shine again – you know it will.

    Hugs. L

    PS. Would have liked to have shared a drink or three in Las Vegas but there will be other times.

  8. Ugh. So much trash in life to go through to get to the good stuff.

    Sometimes I’m not very happy about God wanting us to “build our character”…

    Love and support for you…

  9. Just came to meet you from Ian’s.
    Believe in yourself. All the cuts seem to make us stronger in the end.
    They say, if it is not better…it is not the end!

  10. I hope I don’t have to tell you that I’m here. You know the truth of why you left, and it just can’t matter if he is willing to admit it to you or to himself. Many years ago during a rough time my mother wrote a letter to me and ended it with, “Hold you head up. Remember who you are.” You, too, Ang.

  11. Hi Laura ~ We missed you there! I asked Jonathan to send my regards. Thank you for your kind words. Some times are harder than others. I know you know this truism as well or better than I do.

    Reese ~ You are just a true dear and friend. Thank you! Perhaps if it wasn’t for the harder stuff we wouldn’t appreciate the good stuff as much as we do. Fortunately, I realize that even with my troubles, I am still very, very blessed.

  12. Maggie ~ Thanks so much for the visit and encouragement. Strangely I feel much better today — perhaps because I finally wrote a bit more about it . . . ? I’ll remember your advice. Thanks again for stopping by.

    Citizen ~ I cherish you. I hope you know this. I think you do. I feel it in my heart as I feel so many things. Excellent advice from a group of excellent women. I really am blessed to know you all and have those nuggets of wisdom that keep me going. Thank you for making the time to send them to me!

  13. Ang: One silver lining in all this is that it’s almost a blessing that Jon keeps confirming, with every new interaction, why you were right to do what you did. As unhappy and unwanted an occasion as leaving a marriage is, it must be nice to know that your instincts are sound — and weren’t drowned out by the sound of your heart — and that your act of emotional triage was a correct and necessary one. Lesser people would have waved the “love” wand and paradoxically continued to marinate in marital misery.

    I’m proud of you for doing the hard thing, which is almost always the right thing.

  14. I haven’t experienced what you’re going through, and I’m never any good at words of comfort and consolation, but I hope you feel better soon 🙂

  15. Yes, you get through it. You know this because you have done so in the past.
    That makes it no easier when you are still in it.
    I know, I was in my own shit for a long time.
    But the view from this side makes all the crap seem not so bad.
    And in the end you need to do what is best for you and your child.
    Garage or no garage.
    Don’t let anyone ever try to make you feel bad for doing that.

  16. I am glad that you are allowing yourself to feel all the feelings, even the very unpleasant ones, while holding the knowledge that you are growing past it. This way, you won’t end up with a lot stuffed emotions to deal with later on or to carry around with you on an uncouscious level so that it affects everything you do. Hang in there. Healing can be hard work.

  17. Jim ~ Thanks for your encouragement. It almost makes up for the “cheap plastic pony” comment. 😉

    Lonie ~ Thank you so much. It comes and goes, as so many emotions do. It’s a time in my life, so I hope to honor it as such, for all that it is, even though it is harder than I would like it to be.

    Jill ~ My greatest hope is that the end does show that I did what was best for my daughter, especially. Everything and everyone else pails in comparison to her and her needs. Thanks for being such a good cheerleader!

    Seventh Sister ~ If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last few years it’s the importance of not stuffing feelings. Healing *is* hard work, but so worth it. I have a deeper peace than I have before and am looking forward to even more in the future. Thanks for taking the time to let me know that I’m on the right track.

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