This was written on Thursday, 13 Nov 2003:

Am sitting at my "new" computer...well, new for me at least...bought a refurbished laptop online and am impatiently waiting for 9pm so that I can log on using my cell phone as a modem (won't bore you with the details...just be moderately surprised that I schemed this out all on my own...lol) during my "unlimited use" time...since I have managed (with the help of hubby and parents) to burn through the 1,000 minutes of peak time well before the end of my billing cycle...bitch, bitch, bitch...

Am listening to Evanesence as I type this...once again amazed about how well the album seems to be appropriate background music for my life at this point.

The move out of the house went moderately smoothly. I had more stuff than I thought I did...or, at least, I gathered up more stuff that I wanted to take with me than I thought I would. Still, my "movers" were both very gracious and goodnatured about the entire thing and we managed to cram Todd's Yukon chock full of my stuff, me, the son and my two "movers" and very good friends.

After we got there and dinner was had and everyone who wasn't staying had left, it became this nerve-wracking wait of sorts...the husband called my cell phone a few times, probably after he couldn't reach me at home...and I let the phone ring...no need trying to make up pointless excuses when the note I left pretty much explained everything.

When he finally did call, his begged us to come back home. He started making deals about how he was willing to enter into marriage counseling (finally, after hearing an adamant, no-nonsense "no" each time I had asked him) and attend anger management courses if only we would return to him. I told him I didn't want to do that. Then, he asked about my job and I told him that I had quit. That's actually when he went apeshit and started saying over and over "what have you done to me?!" He claimed that he could not cover the house bills without me and that we would lose the house. I told him calmly that he made enough to cover everything and he would lose his house and I was not on the deed, just the mortgages. I cannot remember exactly how that or the other conversation (there may have been a 3rd one, but I forget) ended, but I do remember crying and feeling drained of energy and emotion by the time I finally went to bed.

Monday morning he called again to say that our minivan had disappeared from where it had been parked on the street and he wanted to know if I had had anything to do with it. I was shocked that he'd even ask me that question, but I told him that I had nothing to do with it and suggested that he call the police...he said that he had. He told me that he had not slept and had talked with someone on a suicide prevention program sometime during the night. He also asked, during one of the many conversations we had, that I give him 30 days...to move back in with him for 30 days, attend counseling with him and basically give him an opportunity to show that he could be a better husband and man...and I didn't really find him lacking in the father category. Then, he managed to push hard on one of my buttons by ask me to stay until after Christmas...at which point I said "fuck you, you tried to leave us right before Christmas last year, what makes you think that I'm going to give you that chance again?!" and hung up on him. I think that was the conversation that really got me crying to the point that my son, who kept wandering in and out of the room while I was talking...no sense of privacy, that one...ran to get his grandparents because "mommy is crying!" My father came in and awkwardly patted me on the shoulder.

My parents have been terrific through this...very supportive...very much taken with the idea of getting me to move forward and make a new life here...with them. I love them dearly, but I am unsure if this will be a long-term arrangement. Still, I guess I should try to be practical and accept all their help for as long as possible.

Finally, the hubby called to say that he had made arrangements to meet with a therapist on Tuesday and he had made arrangements for a rental car. He also kept trying to impart upon me that he "understood" my situation better now and he was so sorry for what he had done. I kept thinking that it was all just "too little, too late," but I kept that sentiment to myself...at least, until Wednesday night when I finally blurted it out to him.

Anyhow, on Tuesday he called me from the therapist's office and had me talk with her, Carla, for a couple of minutes so that we could agree on a meeting/therapy session. He's calming down a lot more...as time goes on...but he honestly thinks that I will just fall back in love with him...or will wear me down with his declarations of need and love. He keeps claiming to need my friendship. And, to be honest, I don't think that he's bothered to take the time to really establish or have any active friendships beyond me and possibly the second husband.

And, even though I will deny it if anyone were to ask me, it is very painful to witness. My natural inclination is to care, to give a damn, to want to heal him and comfort him and try to make him "better." But, there is the righteously indignant part of me that wants him to feel the pain, to realize the loss that he's suffering now. I'm ashamed to admit it...to give voice to my own secret satisfaction being felt by his own self-actualization. I cannot help rehashing all the painful things he's ever said or done or inflicted upon me in the past six years. And, having the satisfaction of knowing that he's looking at his own actions from a different point of view besides his own...and hearing the mortification in his voice as he realizes just how it might have felt from my point of view.

Meanwhile, he honestly thinks that he can win me back and I cannot seem to convince him that the chances of that are both slim and none. My heart has been hurt enough by him. I love him as the father of our son but that is about it. I cannot feel any other sort of love for him. That is why I'm going to the marriage therapy session...to explain my point of view and basically wish the therapist the best of luck. I am done with trying to "change" or "improve" him. It's his own responsibility now.

I met Jason on Wednesday and he drove me around Orlando to different colleges and universities...well, only 3 because we had a pretty late start. We had some interesting episodes in the truck while driving... but that was about it. I think that our brief conversation about Ozzie sort of quashed any sort of serious booty call intentions...or, maybe it was just something else I haven't fathomed yet...I was too old? Not attractive enough? Not sure anymore...still, it was good to meet him and spend time with him...glad we did it.

Have talked with Ozzie several times on the phone since I left West Palm. He's working on a night schedule once again so when I call he's usually at work. I'm still unsure as to where we stand at this point. We will need to meet and spend actual time together before I can figure out exactly where that relationship is going... if it is going anywhere.

Creed's HUMAN CLAY is playing now...and the beat of the music is distracting me somewhat.

Well, like an optimistic and well-intentioned fool, I have agreed to go to one of the Orlando theme parks (not sure which one, as hubby is the one buying the tickets) with hubby and son on Saturday. Friends have cautioned me against it. I realize that by agreeing to go I am probably encouraging hubby's secret hopes for reconciliation. I tried to back out the next day and he basically cried and told me not to do that to him and I explained that my going did not change anything. I also made him promise that he would not try to take the son and run...or take both of us and kidnap us and drag us back to WPB. He stated that he thought about doing each scenario...then stated that he needed to rekindle my trust in him and the best way to do that would be to not do anything stupid, like either of those scenarios.

I am going to believe him...I have to. Granted, there is that tiny part of me that is afraid that he's gone into sociopath mode and will probably try to kill me when we're alone...but that's just the paranoid part of me. I am going to go and hope for the best...

Okay, only 30 more minutes to go before I can hop onto the internet without incurring any pesky overlimit charges...hell if I know how I burned up the thousand minutes! I suspect that someone left their cell phone and called someone accidentally. At least, I hope that's what it was.

Geeze, I feel better now...this purged me somewhat. Granted, there are parts that I left out about hubby's recent revelations and mini-epiphanies...but those are his to share and not mine to broadcast. Suffice it to say that he is finding other things and other people to lay the blame on for his current condition... I'm trying very hard to be generous and not think that they're just cop-outs or ways for him to pass the buck of responsibility and culpability.

My son is taking the transition rather well. He doesn't really miss his father until he knows I'm on the phone with him...then he whines a little and asks when he's going home and little manipulative games like that. Since we've been alone together, he and I have had several good battles of will over some of his pouty, tantrum behaviours. Case and point, he's in bed now...I think finally sleeping. Right before he went to the bedroom, he told me, "I don't like you anymore!" Then, in less than two minutes, he was calling for me from the bedroom and telling me that he "needed" me...I told him that I was not going to be going to bed now and what made him think that his previous statement was going to make me want to go with him now! He apologized and I thanked him for apologizing, but I also explained to him that what he said had hurt me and he had to realize that what he said had consequences...well, ok, so I didn't use the word "consequences"...but it was something gosh darned similar to that...I think...

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