Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Send them packing

FH has been reading blog posts. Funny: when they're married to you, they pay no attention whatsoever. You can fly to the moon for a month and no one notices. As soon as you send them packing, they're sniffing about, true pests, clocking moves, asking about your schedule, your business. It's like living in some small mountainous village in the Old Country, but instead of ancient ladies in black taking note, you've got a middle-age man fueld by fury. Oy. This of course, only feeds my hunger to travel and get away with my two gorgeous children. We need change - yes, bigger change than a divorce can bring about. Maybe it's the weather, the gray, the suburbs, which never, ever rocked my world. I'm doing the footwork as they say - the gym, the nice house, friends, good diet, good books, and have even started dating. But I think what I really need is unrushed time with the kids on the road just ... being. A girlfriend said I should be happy about the date invites. She wants to remarry ASAP. I can't imagine a worse fate: wasted too much time worrying about FH to spend another second worrying about another guy, other than my sons. So I let them get dinner, amuse me, make me laugh, and if I feel like it, give them a kiss and send them packing. It's better that way right now. Another friend - remarried after 6 years of divorce -- said she used to go dancing. She'd get just enough touch and flirt but could leave. If a cowboy was cute, she gave him a kiss--then waved good-bye.


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