A Shell

I thought I wasn’t going to post. I thought I would be able to suffer through. I realized I was wrong. This space is my therapy, all of you my therapists. And I have to talk this out. I can feel the pressure rising within me and without being able to explain to my family all of the dynamics between He and I, I need this place to relieve what’s building within me. This will be long and rambling, and I’m sorry. And I have a few details to add that may make some of my very supportive readers and friends see Him in a different light. I know what an amazing man He is, and I’m a hellcat who will defend Him, so an explanation may be better. If you can stick with me, hopefully this will all make more sense…

Sometime between last night and today, I picked up all the pieces and created a shell. Somewhat hollow, but functioning.

I cried myself to sleep, but not before a few moments of hope creeped in. I woke up, lost and confused because I knew I couldn’t send Him my morning text, that there would be no morning conversation to start my day. Not because He said I couldn’t. I told Him I wouldn’t reach out first. He needs the space, and if I make Him feel obligated to respond, then He doesn’t have space. And if He didn’t respond (because He needs the space), I would just feel pathetic for reaching out and getting nothing but silence.

So, first thing in the morning, and I’m already out of focus. I cried again. I cried in the shower. I cried drying my hair. Silent tears that simply fell and landed everywhere. I stopped only because my children had already seen me sobbing like a baby the night before and that was more than they should have seen.

I drove to my mom’s house for Thanksgiving. Three hours to do nothing but think. It was as dangerous as it sounds. I cried the first hour and a half. I thought the rest of the way. And I remembered a part of our conversation from the previous night.

“Am I still stupid to keep looking for a job in your area?” I asked in a small voice.

“Oh God, no, baby!”

“If I show up on your doorstep (ok, call you to say I’m coming) and I can take care of myself and my boys just like I do here, you’ll want me? You’ll be ok with it?”

“Yes, yes, more than anything!”

We cried again. We cried a lot last night.

Now, let me interject for my friends who will jump to my defense and tell me I shouldn’t “sacrifice” or move for a man or whatever. We’ve been talking about this for a while. He won’t move from where His children live and I have a deadbeat ex husband who never sees his children. I’m mobile and He’s not. I hate my job and don’t want to live in the little town I’m in anymore. I’ve been looking for an excuse to move and He is the catalyst, not the reason. He’s the location, but I won’t go unless I make enough to live independently and continue taking care of my children. I won’t move unless I know it’s an improvement over our current lives. Ok, everyone?

Later that night I told Him something that I hope He took seriously. “Never underestimate a girl with a goal.”

I’ve never not accomplished a goal I’ve set. Even when it was misguided, I still achieved whatever I put my mind to. My mind is set firm. And the moment I realized that I had two choices – sit around waiting for Him and be miserable or get off my ass and do something about it, it all became clear. This almost became bearable…almost.

I can’t let it end this way. I can’t let this relationship wither and die because of fucking distance. If we’re in the same space together and we can’t make it work, okay, as much it would suck, okay. But at least this beautiful thing between us would have had a fair shot. This isn’t a fair shot. This is a bunch of shitty circumstances coming together to fuck two people over.

I’m a fixer. When I see a problem, after my girly emotional fallout, I start looking for ways to fix it. This is my thing to latch on to, this is a problem to solve. And if this is what gives me courage to face each day, and this is what motivates me, I’m okay with that.

Here’s the part of the story I never told anyone because I kept hoping He would start blogging again. But since He won’t, and since I am compelled by my love and my loyalty to defend Him as the good Dom and man that He is, I’ll tell you what you don’t know.

In September He moved out of His home and away from His children (a three year old and a baby). Until recently, He didn’t even get to have them for overnight stays. They still haven’t worked out a solid routine and settled into it. Ever been divorced with kids? Then you know what He’s going through.

In October, His busy time of year at work started. Busy meaning 12-15 hour work days. So busy that yesterday was a 20 hour workday for Him – and He and I spent nearly two hours on the phone dealing with our relationship. So busy that even when He was out of town with His family emergency, He was still trying to work remotely to stay caught up. Busy in a way some people will never know. I know because I spent 8 months at my job last year working those kinds of hours – while I went through a divorce. Can you see where I’m extremely sympathetic at this point?

October was also the one year anniversary of His mother’s death from cancer. A year He has spent mourning her almost entirely alone (there is a reason He’s getting a divorce, you know). And in late October, He received devastating news. His father has been diagnosed with cancer and even with all of the treatments currently scheduled, has been given only six months to live.

He flew to NY where His family lives for His father’s surgery, cancelling our first weekend. How could I possibly blame Him? I lost my father when I was 22, and I can’t imagine losing my mother. I told Him that if it was my mother, I’d be up her ass, so how could I fault Him for feeling the same way? Especially when the loss of His mother is so fresh?

The following weekend was cancelled because His father’s surgery experienced complications and he was in ICU for a week. He couldn’t leave until He spoke with His father. Then He couldn’t leave because He needed to help His father. I will never blame Him for that. I will never question the decisions He made with regard to His family.

And in the middle of all of that, He made time to talk to me in some form or fashion every single day. Every. Fucking. Day. He didn’t have to do that. He could have asked for space then, and He didn’t.

I invited Him to Thanksgiving with my family as a back up if for some reason He couldn’t get back to NY. I wasn’t sure He would be able to go but I knew He would do everything possible and my offer was simply a plan B. He told me last night that it was the most wonderful offer He’d ever had and it made Him feel better knowing it was there for Him if He needed it.

His decision for space is directly related to all of this. He’s working 12 hours a day (minimum). He’s discovering a new life without His children in it every day. He’s dealing with the illness and future loss of His father. And He felt guilty because He couldn’t be what I needed as my Dominant. He was stretched too thin. He broke last night. He broke down and sobbed. And there was nothing I could do for Him. I can’t fix any of this. He has to find His new normal. He has to learn how to live this new life. Anyone who’s gone through a divorce and/or a death knows this pain. Now imagine going through both together while you work the job you have to have in order to live and support your children. The fact that He isn’t completely broken is a testament to His strength and is one of the million things I love about Him.

I made a decision today as I put the last piece of my shell together. I will not let Him experience the loss of His father, whether its in six months or six years, without being His support and His comfort. He will feel my hand in His when it gets harder. He will have His safe place to go to when life gets harder, and it will get much harder before it gets better. My arms will wrap around Him, and my love will pour into Him when He feels lost and alone. That is my goddamned love for Him, and He will feel it, He will know it, He will never question it or realize that He can be without it.

But I have to get there first. At the risk of exposing even more personal information and really pissing Him off, know anyone hiring in Tampa, FL?