kuangning: (thoughtful)
Right. I was supposed to talk about letting go at some point.

I just saw my ex, the younger children's father, for the second time in as many weeks. We talked, quietly and mostly openly, about a lot of things. The question's come up of setting up a household again -- I want to move out, so does he, and it would probably be in the children's best interests, the list of pros runs. Still, I've put off making the decision.

*He's lost weight, is back to the way he was when I met him.
*He seems more brittle than before.
*He hasn't really changed otherwise. And that's comfortable, but disquieting.
*Gods, I have changed.

Those were my thoughts.

His cellphone rang during our couple of hours together. His roommate/sex partner keeps him on a short leash.
She sounded angry, suspicious. I sat there quietly, looking out the window of her car. And when he finished making excuses to her, never quite lying but not being forthcoming, either... I told him in as many words that I've enough baggage of my own that I don't want to deal with his.

I feel a little numbed, but a lot grateful. He's a comfortable past in some ways, the easy out of my parents' house. A year or two ago, I'd have jumped at it, and counted it fair that I was rescuing him from his own unpleasant reality. Today, I'm just relieved that he isn't my responsibility to take on. I love him, and wish him well -- but that "well" is *growth.* And he's very determined to not change, right now. He tells the same jokes. He wears his hair the same way, makes the same deliberate gestures, talks about the same people -- none of whom he's seen lately because that would mean coping with their changes. He's very invested in keeping his world static. And that makes me sad.

I also see a bit of the same thing in my perception of Richard, and it makes me glad he never picked up that card. If his world is the same tiny one it was ten years ago, I don't want to know it. I know that he, too, tells the same jokes -- that's enough. I don't really want to go backward. I want -- not need -- someone who will, at the very least, grow with me. If I can't have that, well, then I'm much better off by myself.
kuangning: (Default)
Sometimes I'm more blind than I have any right to be.

I just went through approximately a week of being nothing like my better or usual self. The depression, unfortunately, is all too frequent with me. Anger at everything and nothing isn't. Being filled with loathing at the very thought of couples-anything definitely isn't. I wandered around wanting contact and freezing out anyone who tried to get closer to me than a comment in this journal. Move on, move past, don't slow down, don't stop. And I couldn't figure out why, which didn't make me any happier. A dream is not a reason to crash. Besides, it started before that.

Logan's birthday was the twelfth.
Ari's is the twenty-third.

Part of it? Hell yeah. But it didn't explain all of it, not by a long shot.

And then I got reminded of another "anniversary." And suddenly I'm very very happy that I haven't been worse than I've been. And more determined than ever that this roller-coaster is going to stop soon.

  • I have the job. Ninety days to health insurance.
  • I'll need my license.
  • I'll need a car.
  • I need a place of my own, preferably near work. It's impossible to save here.
  • I'll need at least the basic furniture and appliances, preferably used, definitely sturdy. Logan is rough on furniture. *wrysmile.*
  • I need a new wardrobe. I wish I could get around that, but I can't, not and still be presentable at work. At least two more skirts, two pair of slacks, and a few blouses. I can forgo another jacket, since the one I have is a perfectly nice black one.

I think I can manage most of this by the end of the year. Even if the place of my own is just a room or something for a few months -- it's not like I'm intending to settle forever in North Carolina.

For less obvious but just as important reasons that I haven't really talked about here... I have to do this on my own. I know what I want, and more than that, I know how I want it to happen. I will not lean. I will not be rescued. I am not running to anyone. There are dreams riding on this that I couldn't begin to explain. I've gotten what I needed, almost always. Even when I didn't know it until afterwards, even when it hurt to take the medicine. Just enough happiness to make me want more, I said, and that was true. A day here, an evening there, of more real joy than most people know exists, let alone dream of having. Enough to keep me going. Preparation for this -- and this is what's going to count.

September 2015

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