I feel as though a chapter in my book ended today and now I’m between chapters. I hope it’s not too long until the next chapter starts.
I swam this morning and then came home and dressed and put some make up on and then met my husband at the library downtown to talk. I told him I felt we were at a crucial time with his lawsuit and if I am going to get an attorney, it should be soon. I said after that, our communication would be through lawyers because I would like to go no contact.
He said to get an attorney if I needed that assurance but he said he has no intention of screwing me over. He said he’d tell his lawyer to copy me on all emails he sends to my husband.
I met him because I wanted to look him in the eyes and try to gauge his sincerity. At first he was annoyed that I was “bringing up this subject again” and he’s “tired of it.” But then he more or less settled into a conversation. I think he was being honest with me.
I feel so sorry for him and I should not be wasting those kinds of emotions on him. In fact on the way to see him I reminded myself of what it felt like the day he turned off his love for me and had no response when I got on my knees and begged him not to leave me. He was as cold as steel. I’ll never forget the helplessness of being unable to reach him for the first time in our eight years together.
I looked at this small foreign man today and could hardly believe we had ever been intimate. He’s wearing dumb bracelets that don’t suit him which makes me feel his woman probably likes them. He was always too formal to wear junk like that before. His hair is cut differently.
He said he may be told to vacate the apartment by the end of the month and if that is the case he’ll go to Portland to stay with a friend until the case is over. So it looks like I’ll end up with all my stuff after all. I need a bigger storage unit.
And when he leaves this town another part of me will die and really have to face that he is gone and I am alone.
When we separated on the sidewalk outside of the library he gave me a hug and I sort of gave him a one armed hug back. I felt his cheek on my cheek and smelled his cologne. It felt so nice to be held. I could have easily kissed him, but didn’t.
Because my world is small (it consists of my parent’s house, the local grocery store, the place I volunteer, and the many charity shops I visit regularly), I am just not exposed to a nicer segment of society. I looked around me today and thought, “Fuck, I’m so bored here. Look at these hillbillies. I have nothing in common with them.” But then I remembered the phrase I try to tell my husband, “Wherever you go, there you are.” And I know I could feel this way even in a vibrant big city. It’s just that my world is small and I need to enlarge it.
It’s time for me to make a serious effort to going out and meeting new people, as hard as that is for me. Whether it is a class, a club, or some other group, I must do it. I do not feel ready to date but if someone interesting asked I’d probably say yes and then vomit due to nerves. I just need to meet people and not feel like a leper any more. I feel as though being single makes me a threat or untouchable or certainly an outcast.
I don’t see why someone should feel I’m on the prowl or trying to “get” a man. But I don’t know how other people see me. I just want to be comfortable in my own skin.
My challenge will be that I’m not a typical, sandal wearing Oregonian. For example, I could probably find ten men my age on Craigslist right now looking for a woman who loves fishin’ and RVing and Jesus, that’s not me. I appreciate nature, but not living in a tiny rolling house.
I just had an idea. Perhaps on Friday when I volunteer again, I’ll ask my young supervisors where I should volunteer in “the system” to meet eligible older men, like judges or attorneys. I’m just longing to see a man in a suit and tie. Is that so bad?
I was married to an attorney once, my second husband, so I don’t think they walk on water or anything, in fact I’m sure they are some of the most effed up groups of people around, but it’s a place to start. You must be reasonably intelligent to pass the bar and reasonably secure to stand in front of a courtroom and talk.
But right now I feel utterly convinced that there is not one single man my age in this town. Not one. Wait. Yes there are, but they have tattoos, long hair, or are busy working on their motorcycles.
No wonder some older women go lesbian. I swear!
This may be it for my love life and for that I’m so very, very sad. I think I’ll allow myself a good cry tonight; I feel it welling up right now.
And then I’ll pick myself up and try to save my family.