Monday, February 20, 2012

This Is The End

I didn't fight her when it ended. I didn't try to talk her out of it. I just let the Librarian end it because she wanted to. I should have fought. Lord knows I didn't want it to end. So why didn't I? I guess cause I saw it coming. Not that feeling I had that she was going to hurt me that I had when I first saw her. But ... I was running low on money and while I knew at some point in the future I'd run out. That vague hazy day somewhere in the future was slowly finding its way to a specific date on the calendar. A long distance relationship wouldn't survive that, no matter how good it was.

It was good, good for me, but I guess not so much for her. Maybe she saw it coming just as much as I did. Maybe she knew I'd never be able to end it myself. I tell myself if I'm ever going to get her back I have to get my shit together first. Like a job with real money. So I guess that is my fight. I job hunt again. Something I should have been doing anyway, in reality.

About a week after the break up, she asks me via Facebook why I'm barely talking to her, because she can't help but feel like I'm mad at her. I pick up the phone almost instantaneously and call. She doesn't answer. I leave a voice mail telling her that I'm not mad. That was mostly the truth. I explained to her that I cared to much about her to just be friends. Not now. Maybe not ever. An hour later the phone rings, I see the caller ID, I don't answer, I don't want to fight. I check my messages. She tells me she understands. It doesn't make her happy, but ... she understands. I don't delete the message.

I don't know what to tell the kids about the break up either. I mean, they're too young to understand what dating is, but they do know they saw her and her daughter almost as often as they saw me. I don't tell them anything, except "not this weekend" anytime they ask if we're going visit this weekend. Part of me hopes that being as young as they are they'll eventually just forget. Doesn't appear to be working that way when in the middle of winter my girl decides to draw a picture of all of us at the beach at school.

I muddle through the holidays. I'd been unemployed or underemployed for two and half years and managed to never miss a bill. Sure I'd been late a few times, but I didn't miss any. Come January, I missed them all. I didn't pay a single bill. I couldn't. I'm out of money and I'm out of ideas. Having consulted with a Realtor about selling the house, I'm actually not terribly worried about missing the house payment. Apparently unless you miss a few payments, it's almost impossible to short sale the house. 

I've been toying with the idea for over a year of selling the house to avoid this very situation, I have no real plan of where to go after I do, but any mention of trying to do so is immediately vetoed by the ex-wife, until the divorce is final. Her name is on it, so I can't do it without her. The finality of the divorce is  quite a ways away since neither one of has actually filed since we're both broke.

What do I do? I'm depressed because I'm broke. I'm depressed because of the break up. I'm depressed because I hate my job and the work is below me and the pay is terrible. I'm depressed because I'm depressed. I'm stuck. I try to come up with some sort of solution but I've got nothing. The only thing I can think of to do since the whole find a better job thing isn't panning out, is ask my parents for help. I try to ask them, but it takes me two weeks to muster up the courage to do so but I finally pack up the kids and head down for the weekend.

I ask them for help. I'm not sure what I expected help to be but I thought it'd be more than just financial planning advice. Not that I didn't appreciate it, not that it wasn't helpful, but it was again just going to buy me more time, and not that much to be honest, a month or two tops.

I go into work feeling, half defeated with just a hint of optimism that maybe this plan could work and buy me the time I need. I'm met at the door by my boss "We need talk. This isn't working out." What's not working out? The business? I know you're struggling with the tech. Like last week you sat down at the computer yesterday and asked me how to "find the Google." Me? I'm not working out? Is this because I went to the bathroom during my first hour here the other week, because I heard that conversation through the door and really dude, I understand I'm pooping on the clock, and that's not what you pay me to do but ... really? Five minutes for a bowel movement? I guess I'm not terribly upset about losing this job, but don't exactly have a safety net, or any savings.

I go home up date my resume and apply to every thing I can think of. Odds are I'm going to lose the house anyway so suddenly geography isn't that much of a limiting factor. It's actually kind of liberating. I can stay in the city I'm in, I can move an hour north to be close to the kids, I can move and hour and a half south and be by my parents in the city I grew up in, or ... maybe I'll move two hours east, where the Librarian is. Yeah, I'm that stupid. 

I'm not going to bank on any of those choices, I'll just throw darts and let fate take me where it will. I have interviews north, south and east over the next month, but none in the same city I'm currently in. In between job hunts and interviews, I clean and pack aimlessly. I think I'm leaving, but I don't know when or where I'm going.

Valentine's Day eve, I get a call for a second interview, they want me to come in work two days on a trial basis. I can't say no. So ... I head east.

I head up the night before, Valentine's day. I crash at a friend's place. I'm literally two miles mile away from the Librarian and I'm temped to stop by but ... Valentine's Day. What if she's seeing someone and I stop by on Valentine's Day? Awkward, at best. So I pass, for now. I work one day, they seem to be happy with my work.

The next day I decide with nothing better to do that evening, and having fought the urge for a day already, I give in and go visit the Librarian. No agenda. No attempt to get back together, or clear up unresolved issues or anything. Just to see her face. We've barely spoken in the months since we parted ways. I drive over  I knock on the door.

It opens slowly and her face peers around the door. I can tell by her face I was the last person she expected to be knocking at her door, and really why would she expect me? I live on the other side of the state. "Hi" she barely whispers. Her daughter peeks her head around the door too. She sees me I'm tackled with hugs by her. "Down Dino, down! I'm glad to see you too kiddo" "Hi! Someone else lives here with us now" the child informs me innocently.

My eyes look up and meet her mother's. Her eyes tell me this wasn't some child misspeaking the facts, or a simple roommate to help pay the bills. I had mentally prepared myself for her to be seeing someone else as a near absolute certainly, but I had never even considered this. I realize that my plan to just visit, with no agenda is a failure. I'm not sure what I wanted to happen, but this for sure isn't it.

She invites me in. I accept because my brain is swimming trying to process this new information and nodding my head seems to be all I can manage to do. I go inside. We talk. We catch up. Her luck has been almost as good as mine. She's out of work too, no longer a Librarian, but money isn't a problem. Her "friend" as she politely puts it, makes a lot of money and she can now focus on being a full time student and mom. I'm sure this was intended to have the message that I need not worry about her, but the reality of it was that it just made me feel like crap for being the broke, unemployed loser that my ex-wife accused me of being. It made me feel like the feelings I had for her were meaningless, and money trumped that. I knew somewhere in my heart that wasn't what she was thinking, but it didn't stop me from feeling that way. Money, time, distance, these things aren't supposed to matter. They do though, and I know it and I hate it.
 
I said my goodbye to her, I tried to say goodbye to her daughter as well but she was having none of it. I felt like somehow she knew she'd never see me again, so if she didn't say it, then it's wasn't really goodbye. I left town the next day and a twice broken heart ... And a job.

This is my life now. 

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