Last night I watched one whole movie and two partials. Eat, Pray, Love, (the whole thing), It's Complicated, and Fight Club. Two strong women, and sexy, crazy, angry men (just my type). I related to everybody.
Last night I also cried, yep, pitiful aching crying. I had shaved, waxed, painted, cooked and waited for my man. Who was too tired. To see me. He is tired. 14 hour days, 6 days a week at work. I get it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. When you open your heart up even just a small crack, things hurt. Do I have the energy for hurt? Life is easier without hurt.
My man has tried to make it up offering breakfast, lunch, and many apologies, but after all that effort last night, today I've chosen to stay in bed, read, and write instead of join him for a meal. I don't have the desire to get all gussied up again. I really only have one of those in me a week, and to be honest, I want that man to suffer.
I didn't think I wanted him to suffer until he and I talked and I realized that when he said, "Baby, (in his oh,so sexy voice) I'm so sorry, but I can't tonight." What I heard was, "You're not important, your to fat, your too furry, and frankly I would rather watch Matlock and drink a beer than have to spend the night with you." I'm telling you, it is crazy territory in my baggage department.
I told my single mom neighbor about it and she came up with a great idea. Baggage claim night. Next Tuesday we're going to go buy old bags from Goodwill, give them names, and put all of our personal, crazy baggage in it. I'm so sick of having this broken hearted, divorce baggage I think I'll mail it to Kathmandu.
Queenpin needs a change.