Once upon a time there was a single mom with 2 kids, a boy and a girl. The mom was bright and shiny as a penny, her laugh was so infectious it made you want to do tricks just to see it again. She also was a sassy mama, a queenpin in training. The sassy, laughing queenpin in training mama met a man. She loved the man, the man loved her. They got married and the queenpin in training began to change, to wilt, to not be so bright and shiny. The kids missed their mama, they wanted to know why the man had to come into their lives, why they weren't enough. They tried to do tricks to make their mama laugh, but her laugh became bitter, her voice always tired. There was nothing the children could do to save their mama from the man, and over the years they suffered as they watched her bright light burn out.
This morning for the first time in 5 months there was no sweet text waiting for me on my phone. This morning there is no man. This morning the Queenpin is making herself not say, "I miss you, come back." This morning I am reminding myself that I am a strong woman and I can do this.
That story above is about a friend whose mom I love, love, love. Still love, but have watched pull her kids through the shitter, and herself down to the dumps because she chose the wrong man. Maybe the right man for her, but the wrong man for her kids.
My man was sweet, smart, fun (oh my, so fun), but there was a darker side I didn't like to shine the light on, because if I did then I knew it would be over. For four months it was fine to play dress up, and have a life completely separate from my kids, but this holiday season I found myself wanting him to come into me and my kids' lives, I found myself compromising my promise to keep them separate. And I found myself ashamed that I wanted him and my kids together, though I knew it might not be right.
Yesterday I talked to my friend whose mama chose the wrong man and she said, "There is no judgment here, but you need to be done." And though she never talked about her mama, I imagine she was thinking of her. As do I. Early in my relationship with my man I used to say her stepdad's name to myself when I wanted my man to come with me and my kids to do something. My mantra of protection against stupid decisions. Today I have repeated that man's name as my mantra to keep me from contacting my man and saying, "Just kidding, let's keep doing what we were doing."
I'm writing this as my protection against myself. There is a part of me that doesn't want to post it. If I post it then it is over, I've got to let this man go. I'm holding myself accountable, I'm saving myself for the beasties, or maybe its them saving me from myself.