I Don’t Know…

Some days I feel like I’ve been played as a sucker. I did the whole “amazing unexpected gift” thing with the locally-made record cabinet you aren’t taking with you because it’s too big and heavy (fuck you) and the hammock (locally made!) and the replacement hammock. It was never worth surprising you with a trip because you never wanted to go anywhere. I got the Barnes & Noble kit for the person you don’t really know but have to buy a gift for. The gnome with the useless book. The gnome that was 6″ tall. I’m not sure what that said but it wasn’t good. In terms of “long term marriage viability”.

And when you nickel and dime me over monetary issues, all I want to do is punch you in the face. I’m the person who has tried to make the children’s interests come to life. I’m the one that’s shown them the small corner of the world I’ve been capable of. I’m the one willing to spend my “free time” figuring out this Girl Scout stuff. I’m the one.

I’m the fucking one.

You are the one who has done the absolute minimum and then falls asleep on the couch. Who actually thinks we want to watch the same Simpsons episode again so you can see what you missed while you were snoozing.

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5 thoughts on “I Don’t Know…

  1. Roger all of this, with a vengeance. I am sorry, sorry, sorry that I cannot turn the clock ahead for you. You ARE the one, and he is not, and your girls will realize that quickly once he is not forced by physical proximity to be present for them (even in his very-removed way).
    Also, here is my horrible gift story: On our last Valentine’s Day together, my ex-husband came home from one of his mysterious weekend ‘trips home’ (read: drug and alcohol benders) and handed me a Walgreen’s bag that contained an unsigned card and box of candy conversation hearts. I had, despite feeling like we were reaching the end of our road together, made an effort and gotten him some shirts he wanted. I looked at the Walgreen’s gifts, told him I hadn’t gotten him anything, and returned the shirts. Two weeks later I filed for divorce.

  2. Thinking of you and wondering what it is about men that makes them think that zoning out on the couch is some kind of solution to whatever situation it is that they don’t like. It’s been a long time since I was the recipient of such treatment, but still remember how shitty it felt. Hoping things improve soon.

  3. I, too, am counting the days. I wonder, if Harriet and I are both counting, will that double the speed with which they pass? I’m a Fake Scientist, so I say, “Yes!”

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