Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum



It is cold here. Temperatures in the negatives first thing in the morning and snow on the small mountain I skirt around to go to uni one way around, and work the other side of. I have never seen snow this low. Never on this little mountain. Snow is a rarity where I live, a fresh dusting one night every few years on the mountain range I live near, and that causes much excitement. Usually melted by the afternoon.

I was doing my usual mind meandering on my way home from work tonight. Sometimes I wish my mind was a blank canvas, and I didn’t constantly THINK. But I know this is me, always has been, always will be. I think. Thinking is like breathing. You die if you don’t.

Tonight’s gem I dragged up was about music festivals. I think it was triggered by a song on the radio and what the males in the family are up to this evening. Goes something like this. My eldest daughter and I went to quite a few music festivals together in her early teens. We have similar taste in music, she of course introduced me to more, and I educated her ;-). One of the first ones we went to together was at the end of his affair. And it was in skankola’s city. TOIL suggested we stay with skankola while we were up there. Yep. You did read that right. He really did. He suggested that his daughter, and his partner, supposedly the love-of-his-life (he still tells me that) stay with the woman he had been secretly fucking for a year. Isn’t that cosy? I wonder why I said no?!! I just thought it bizarre, and I didn’t even have a clue they WERE fucking.

I mean really, who was this guy even???

He has taken our nearly 18 year old son and his mate up to the same city tonight to watch one of our local football teams play a visiting West Ham United side. Should be a cold but fun night for them.

I wonder if he ever thinks of staying with her, or remembers that he suggested we do? I doubt it. He has pretty much, in many ways, forgotten about her. He has forgotten that he fucked up our whole lives for a selfish, trashy low life, piece of shit, some regular bad sex and a lot of being told how fun and great he was. Funny when he was the least fun or great he has ever been. If I wasn’t so permanently scarred by what he chose for me, he would never give it all another thought. He even told me the other day that if he didn’t know better, he would think it was all a weird, fucked up dream, “did I really do that shit? No way.” The time between then and now has made it all fuzzy. For him.

Just my little piece of sunshine for today. Off to watch the youngest play hockey and drop off a little lamb to my god-daughter, yes, the one whose mother I no longer really talk to, my former best friend. But my god-daughter Instagram and Snapchatted (basically cyber begging me 🙂 ) asking me if I had one last weekend, and I would never deny her. Fun times!

7 thoughts on “Cosy

  1. One of my best mates doesn’t really talk to me anymore either. What’s that all about?! I don’t understand it. She was there for me to begin with when I discovered his affair but over the last couple of years she’s distanced herself from all of us. She’s godmother to both of my children and she does her duty – sending birthday and Christmas cards and presents – but no longer visits, calls, texts. Hmmm, not sure what to think about it. What’s your theory Paula as to why good friends drop you after DDay?

    • This one was the same. Great in the beginning. The answer is drama. Our pain is exciting drama and they can swoop in and soothe, hold our hands, LISTEN, give advice, be shocked. And basically titillated. J was envious of our long and beautiful love. She married later. To a guy who loves strippers and whores. She tells me he likes to look. I know he does more than look. He is wealthy. They have five kids and a wealthy life, new architecturally designed (boring! Oh god I am turning nasty!) house, a huge launch, she hasn’t worked for years so lunches with. ….you know, ladies who lunch. Gym,fanny waxing, beautician, rinse, repeat. She was kind of excited that we had a disaster, she could RESCUE me and gossip about how awful it all was. Then it got old. I wasn’t fun Paula anymore. I didn’t talk about it to her anymore, but I wasn’t who I used to be. New friends, more wine to be drunk. More tropical island holidays to be had. I just fell by the wayside. I chose to step away from that crap a while back.

      Managed to deliver Disney the lamb to Mary who is 11 and was so excited. She hugged and kissed me and told me to wait she would call mum to come home and see me. I said it was fine. She was drinking wine in a local wine bar with friends. No thanks. I choose to not go there anymore 🙂

  2. God, our “friends” could be the same person. She’s the same, into her looks/body, always holidaying in some exotic location, gym, spas. She messaged me 29th May to ask if we could arrange a weekend together. I said of course, I’d love to and was worried we’d put her off with all our problems as it’s been over two years since we’ve seen her. She was all “OMG, are you joking?! I hope so! You’re our best mates!” She said she’d check with her husband (my husband’s best mate and best man at our wedding) and get back to me over the weekend…haven’t heard from her since. After two months I reckon that’s the last I’m going to hear from her…ever. Apart from the obligatory Christmas card, nods to kids. I can’t say that it’s not painful. I feel like we’ve both lost so much through his affair. I guess at the very least you find out who your true friends are. Still hurts though.

  3. My husband says the same. If he didn’t know better, he would think he dreamed it. It doesn’t seem possible that he would do what he did.

    It kills me.

    • Jules, I am sorry. It seems to go that when the affair is uncovered that WE can barely believe it. Then later THEY have trouble reconciling their own actions with who they thought they were/are. Both ways, these idiots cause so much agony and self doubt – to both spouses. A hug my friend xo

  4. My idiot husband started his affair in September 2014. However in December the whore was ballsy enough to send a Christmas picture of herself and grand daughter. I of course say “isn’t that lovely” and put it on thr fridge. That is were it stayed until January. Selfish bastard never did anything. Didn’t take it down, say oh I spilt something on it nothing. When I asked him later he stated”what was I suppose to do”. My whole house just seems so dirty sometimes from all his sneaky, dirty, selfish shit,

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