My brain is full. Sometimes it’s too full and the thoughts spin round and round. I need to process these thoughts, but I can barely get a grasp. I’m hiding out at the blog, because I can’t talk to anybody. I just have to write. I have this desperate and consuming need to be alone. I need it in order to process things. I have kids, a full time job, a boyfriend. When can I be alone? Answer: almost never.
Today I dropped off the kids with their dad. He complimented me for my hair. (It does look amazing. My sister just gave me a new do and it’s totally rock chick hot.) And then he approached me and said that he wanted to thank me for everything I’ve done for them, and he embraced me. Our relationship has been cool and cordial at best, so these things are WAY out of character. I am struggling. It’s hard for the feelings of suspicion and compassion to vie for the same head space. I said to him, “So you’ve decided to make friends after all these years?” And, “I never wanted to be enemies. I want you to have a good life.” My compassionate side chokes up with emotion. My nature is to want to love and trust everyone.
Back story. I loaned his new wife $2000 to pay for a lawyer’s retainer so that she could try to gain full custody of her four children. She suspects her ex is abusive. Fast forward to the here and now. He then proceeds to tell me that her lawyer has billed them $6000 and is irate that they haven’t paid him. He says his wife never signed a contract, and they are surprised that he is billing them that amount. He says she has nothing at all. No bank account. Nothing. Can the lawyer come after her or them? I don’t know, I tell him. I said that my lawyer would itemize everything, bill me monthly, deduct it from the retainer and when it got low, I had to refill it before he’d do any more work on my case. (This being the case in which my ex took me to court to object to me moving to another school district. Ho hum.) I said it is surprising that they would have racked up $6000 in fees without knowing about it.
The suspicious side surfaces to say, “Oh that figures. The only time he is ever nice is just an opener to a discussion about money, which usually ends in a request to borrow some.” He didn’t ask to borrow anything. Not today, anyway. I don’t want to send any more money their way. I just don’t. I don’t like to be in a position where stating what I want is in opposition to what the other wants. It’s uncomfortable for me. What is that called? Oh. Fear of confrontation. Text book.
DON’T ASK ME A QUESTION THAT I DON’T WANT TO ANSWER, I scream inside my head. Why don’t I instead scream, DON’T ASK THE QUESTION IF YOU DON’T WANT THE ANSWER. Put it back in their court. And if they ask me the question, give them the answer that I want to give, not that they want to hear.
It’s the very same twist of emotions I struggle with when I spend the day by myself, when I know my boyfriend wants to be here. He doesn’t want to be alone. He can’t fathom quiet time. Alone time. Solitude. Those things are anathema to him. It’s hard for me to tell him that I want, need to be alone. The difference between us. I said good night and I hoped he had a good day. He said, “Thanks, but I just hung out.”
So just hanging out, being alone, is not a good night for him. But for me? Bliss! Oh how I ache for some solitude so that I can decompress and sort through the things that need to be sorted and file them somewhere safely and neatly in my mind so that I can relax and be at peace. But the guilt! Oh, the guilt! Why is it so hard for me to stand up for myself and shout to my boyfriend, I NEED TO BE ALONE! Or to my ex, I DON’T WANT TO LEND YOU ANY MORE MONEY!
In a perfect world, my ex and I would be amicable. He would want to spend more time with our kids. He would be a role model for them. They would admire him. He wouldn’t ask me for money. He would be where he needed to be when he needed to be there.
In a perfect world, my boyfriend and I would be great friends, confidantes. We would spend quality time together. We would laugh. We would have fun. He would respect my kids. Our time together would be relaxed. He wouldn’t expect more from me than I am able to give. Maybe he wouldn’t expect anything from me.
I wonder if, in a perfect world, I wouldn’t crave so much solitude? How does one balance one’s life? How I wish I knew.