The Fourth D


Its been almost a year, yes a year, since my last post. The release I felt in writing that post has carried me far and then on some level not far enough. I still think about M. Only now, I’m content with the memory. Admittedly, sometimes it lingers a bit longer than I want it to, but when it’s gone, I dont feel so hollow.

In my last post I spoke about my three D’s and how I was waiting for the 4th one… Deliverence. I’m still holding out for that but God did give me a fourth “D”.

After a very emotionaly charged weekend which included copious amounts of frozen pizza and cookies, I sat on my bed and in the stillness of the night said aloud, God, I would like a boyfriend and a dog. Boy, if that statement doesn’t show my state of mind– clearly I wanted companionship. HA!

The next morning, after said binge weekend, I decided that I needed to swear off solid food and decided to get a smoothie. As I was walking out of the smoothie shop, there was a little puppy running loose in the parking lot. I distinctly remember saying to myself, “aww, look at that little puppy.” Next thing I see is the puppy running towards the main street. I paused for a second certain that someone was chasing it but nope, nothing. So I said, in an effort to divert its path towards the street, Hey buddy, hey buddy. The puppy ran directly to me, jumped INTO my car, went to the back seat and fell asleep. I remember standing there with my smoothie in my hand expecting someone to come running after it. Nothing. I was in shock. All I knew was that I needed to get to work and what was I supposed to do with a puppy? I was wearing a belt that day, something I do once every 10 years, so I fashioned my belt into a leash and took the puppy to a vet to see if she was microchipped. Nope. I posted notices in the neighborhood, notified animal control. Nothing. After three days, I decided that I could not keep a puppy – I was barely keeping myself – so I surrendered her to animal control. No one picked her. The Humane Society took her in (phew, she wasn’t going to be euthanized) but still no one claimed or choose this sweet puppy. And each day, I watched the Humane Society’s facebook page and went to adoption events that they held and still no one choose her. Each night my heart felt more and more conviction – was this MY dog? Did God actually give me a dog? Finally I couldn’t take it, I submitted my application, paid the fee and brought home my sweet Khaleesi/Cassie/Sydney/Bellatrix and finally the name that she actually accepted and suited her, Maggie May.

That was nine months ago and I’ve never looked back. I shamelessly love on her, kiss her nose and rub her belly on demand. I buy her toys and treats not because I have to but because how can I not? I laugh at her antics and constantly say to myself, I can’t believe its only been 9 months, she feels like she has been a part of my life forever. And for her birthday I am throwing her a birthday party at her favorite doggie day camp, complete with treat bags for the other dogs and pizza for the staff.

When I tell the story I say that I went back to the smoothie shop the next day in hopes of seeing that glorious man who would become my boyfriend, but alas no such luck. And when I get to the part of how I rescued MM, I have to pause and say, no, I think she rescued me.

 

 

Advertisements

Control+Alt+Delete


What if it really was that easy? Before it was just a joke… a funny way to say I wish I could do that again, now it’s all for real. I’ve been single… well, let me re-phrase that, I’ve been divorced for 38 days. I still carry M with me– we are still “connected” for another 22 days.

Control: The divorce decree stated that he needed to pay me what he owed me no later than 60 days after the date of the divorce. In the past 38 days, I’ve seen M three times. Each time I believed I was getting what he owed me. $170, plus some personal items. And each time, I’ve been told one thing or another: “waiting for all the final bills to arrive”, “the bank is holding the check”, “he’ll pay me next payday“. And each time, I still believe his “reasons” until I step away and say to myself…”Seriously, Z, why are you still believing those stories?!”  And those are the times I wish I could rewind the conversation and tell him to give me what he owes me and to get his priorities straight.

I was foolish to believe him and yes, I do accept that.  A wise friend kindly reminded me that I needed to manage my expectations. Going by past behavior, its not likely I’ll see anything from him and if I do, it will be icing on the cake. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting him to recognize that he “o w e s” me…. Something … Anything … Everything! But I can accept, painfully, that I will likely get Nothing. I can’t control what he will do, but I can control my own expectations.

ALT: in those 38 days, I’ve managed to remember what it was like to be “me.” My first full paycheck, I bought glasses and contacts. The glasses I was wearing had been broken for 10 months but I wore them because there was always something else that needed to be purchased. I scheduled a haircut, got my nails done and had my eyebrows waxed. I bought mascara, a very simple luxury, but when having to make the choice between bananas and mascara, i recognized that bananas were the safer choice to come home with.

I went to the Opera for the first time. I chose Hansel and Gretel because at least I knew the story line. I took myself to the town theater production of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella. I’ve dined alone simply to remind myself that I can sit there and look other folks in the eye and smile. I even went to a friend’s bonfire and mingled with an entire group of people that I didn’t know.  It’s been nice remembering “me”… doing things that I used to do.

DELETE: I’m selling my wedding ring. It doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, well it doesn’t mean much. I pulled it out of the jewelry box and like an idiot, slipped it back onto my finger…. and I cried. And just as easily as I slipped it on, I slipped it off. I’m taking it to the pawn shop tomorrow. I loved my ring, it was meant to be a “starter” ring that would get enhanced with a bigger ring at 5 years … instead, M bought a big screen TV and a PS3. He had the nerve to mention this when he was telling me that he felt like I wasn’t happy, and that he wasn’t good enough for me — that he never got me my ring or took me on a honeymoon etc.   But its time to say goodbye to it. There’s no reason I need to see it each morning in the jewelry box.

As far as my marriage, if given the chance to do it all again, would I? I don’t know. it seems silly to ponder those sorts of questions. I’d much rather ask myself… given what you know now, are you willing to try it again?

I think, yes.

Once Upon a Time…. nah~


Alot of people don’t know (and now they will) how much I love the story of Cinderella.  Always have, always will. We never see her grumbling about her lot in life, she did what needed to be done and in the end no matter how badly her stepmom and stepsisters tried to ruin her chance at that glass slipper, they couldn’t change her destiny. She was meant to marry her prince.

I went to Target last week after signing the papers and found a new journal with Cinderella’s profile on it. It’s been waiting on my dresser patiently…. just waiting for the day I’d hear from the lawyer that the paperwork was final. That text came this morning. In just 67 days my life has been completely turned upside down and no matter how badly M tried to hurt me, he can’t control or change my destiny. I’m meant for better things.

And so, today is the start of a new story— no, not one that starts with Once Upon a Time… heck, even I’m not that sentimental. My story starts with “A funny thing happened to me on my way to living.”  And sure, I’ll have my fair share of ogres & dragons, and invites to parties, and struggles to find the perfect dress and then of course the shoes. And while there may or may not be a prince, there will most certainly be a happily ever after…. because after all, this is MY story and his story is exactly that — HISTORY!