I called off from working Saturday night because I wanted to go see The Auteur. Earlier that evening, i asked my dad if I could borrow his car and go straight out to her house after work on Sunday morning. He gave me his usual lecture about taking advantage of the car situation – which admittedly, I am doing – and about getting my proverbial shit together. I get. I do: he’s trying to hit me with the Tough Love approach but it prompted me to make a decision: I’m moving in with The Auteur.
Her and I have discussed it for at least the last month or two; but talking about it, and making the decision seemed to put her mind at ease about a lot of things, and that put my mind at ease about a lot of things.
Monday would have been (was?) her and Rhino’s wedding anniversary. He texted her in the morning, which she told me about. Otherwise, the day went with virtually no matrimonial fanfare whatsoever, as far as I know.
I don’t feel that this decision – for the Auteur and I to live together – is an impulsive one. Five months into my relationship with Jabba, I had bought her a ring and we had already been living together for months. Comparatively speaking, this relationship has been a much more deliberate one. It amazes me sometimes to think that we have only known each other for five months. It seems like we’ve known each other for year, and not in a bad way; and yet so many things still feel so completely new.
As an outsider looking, in have to wonder, “what the hell is a separated-but-still-married-man doing even considering moving in with a separated-but-still-married-woman and her teenage daughter?” I mean, i have every reason to believe that this could sabotage any possible visitation or custody attempts I may make at The Boy.
At the same time, being with The Auteur just feels right. I am happiest when we are together. I feel complete when I am with her. This, my friends, is love.
To complicate things even more, I am scheduled to appear in court next week one one day before the Auteur and I were planning our own trip down to South Carolina. I’ve come to the realization that I almost certainly will not see The Boy on this trip. Right now, I’m just hoping to see him at Thanksgiving. I haven’t heard back from my lawyer since he sent me the court notice. I am very seriously considering firing this guy, but that’s probably not the best strategy with one week until my first court appearance.
I’m not asking for a perfect world. The world is an imperfect place. The Auteur and I have both been through our share of shit. right now our lives are in an indefinite holding pattern until our divorces are completed. I just want to be happy. It’s like I keep saying to her: “it’s time for our happily ever after”.
As I type this, I am sitting at the gate waiting for my flight to Detroit to pull in. I’ve spent the last 6 days in Myrtle Beach, four of which I spend with My Son. As usual, he was giddy to see me; so excited he was running a-mile-a-minute. Just like at Christmas, we spent most of our time just hanging out, shopping and watching TV. We made it to the beach a few times, played a game of miniautre golf at the aptly named Jurassic Golf. And of course, we also built some Lego sets. I did however manage to take him to see Jurassic Park 3D, which I thought was as good as a post-production 3D conversion of a 20 year old film could expect to be. JP is just plain fun, and it was an extra special treat to see it on the big screen with my Son.
The weather sucked by Myrtle Beach standards, but it was still better than this still-born spring we’re currently slumming through in the D. The hotel was pretty nice, with a full kitchen and an absolutely spectacular balcony overlooking the ocean.
Saturday night, the Boy wasn’t feeling good. After conferring with the STBX, we suspected he had pink eye. I ended up accompanying the two of them to urgent care on Sunday. The Boy asked me to go and he was kind of freaking out about it, so I agreed. the doctor’s confirmed it was pink eye; so he got an extra 2 days of vacation from school.
Sitting in that waiting was, literally, the longest time I’ve spent with the STBX since before I left South Carolina. While I was concerned about the Boy, it felt to awkward being there with her also in the room. The sensation was a stark reminder that that particular part of my life is over. I wasn’t sad or anything; I just wanted to get out of there.
Leaving wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it was going to be. The Boy and I both cried at the drop-off which almost made the trip to urgent care a blessing in disguise. Our final goodbye was at UC, but neither he nor I cried then. We basically got all the crying out of the way at McDonald’s
I’ve been told that these drop-offs and goodbyes get easier with time. This was only our second one and it did seem easier; but there was more going on here. I was excited to get back to Michigan and the life that I have here now. Doubtless, the prospect of seeing The Auteur again had a lot to do with it. Even beyond The Auteur, I am happier now than I’ve been in a LONG time.
- Things to Do in Myrtle Beach, SC (familytravel.answers.com)
- Making the Most of Your Myrtle Beach, South Carolina Coupons (coupons.answers.com)
- Haley touts I-73 project as way to generate jobs (thestate.com)