Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum



Another step has been taken.

Last exam for this year has been completed, last research project submitted. That was yesterday afternoon.

Today I did a twelve hour day in the office to try to catch up on some of what has been piling up as I studied. I love my boss and her support and patience as I climb this maybe silly little mountain. I worked for her when I was happy, when she saw how in love we were. She would often comment on the hilarious, loving texts he would send me most days at work.

While he was fucking my “friend” – maybe after he fucked her, maybe before. Definitely after, and before he texted her. Because she was texted every day, multiple times per day. And me too. He was good at keeping us both on the hook.

So, I can’t go to my friend’s mother’s funeral four hours away tomorrow. I want to go, but there is no way I can take a day off work in our busy season, especially after my boss has been so fantastic this past month while she hasn’t had me there. I am sort of like her PA as well as my other roles. I need to give her a few months of full-on attention. She knows my story, she was one who held me as I fell apart. She came to my country, engaged, ten years after her first fiance died, and she grieved for the boy she loved. The second one was a multiple cheat, shagging all his staff. She gets it. We don’t discuss it anymore, but in the last week, she has told me at least four times per day that she loves me! I mean, really, amazing. I owe her.

I will go to work again tomorrow, and hope my friend feels she is doing the best she can to farewell her mother. We are inaugurating her into the Motherless Bitches Club this weekend, with a girls’ weekend at my holiday home. I say “we” – I mean myself, my oldest friend (who I have kept at arms length for quite some time, but haven’t fallen out with) and her. My old friend, J, and myself had our mothers die within two years of each other, both when we were 30 and 32. Our old uni friend, L, had hers die this weekend. (Note we didn’t “lose” our mothers, they didn’t “pass,” they died.)

I can’t wait. I need some chill time, wine, laughter and friends. Let’s hope I can recreate that like I used to have.

Before I lost my joy.


21 thoughts on “Steps

  1. I’m glad you have people in your real life with whom you can share. I have not shared this with anyone except my children. It has sometimes been very lonely, but there really isn’t anyone with whom I would like to share.

    And a weekend with the girls! How wonderful. Something to look forward to this week…

    I remember the story about your boss. Damn jerk, that guy was. I hope she has found peace.

    Daniel has injured his back so I will be staying home to play nurse for this weekend. He really needs a rest. He has been working crazy hours recently. He just got a great bonus for his efforts, but he is tired and now hurting, too.

    The thought has crossed my mind that crazy hours often means an affair. At this point, I am done with the whole FBI thing. If he decides he wants to leave, go for it. Leave me be.

    • So hard to do it alone. I’ve been kinda doing it alone since the first year or less (other than the blogosphere, so not so alone really.) But ours was a very public outting of the affair. The whole freaking town knew within days. It was so damn humiliating! I was the poor fat, ugly cow who the good guy cheated on. It was unspeakably embarrassing. And then the bunny boiling revved up, she spread such a lot of terrible lies about me. I was doubly embarrassed. I know now that no one important believed her lies, but man, it was really awful at the time. Once shared, once out in the public realm, you can never “pretend” to the outside world that you are okay, that you have a good relationship. You are forever tarred by your community as that dirty cheating guy, and the poor chump who still lives with him.

      My boss is married to a really unusual match for her. She has a PhD, and is a world leader in her field, and her husband is a very “basic” guy. But it works for them, there must be some kind of balance. I can’t say it will last forever, but who ever can? I think she learned a lot in her previous relationships, and they communicate, and manage with each other really well. And there is love, and humour, They’ve been married around eight to ten years. They went through a few rounds of IVF, but managed to conceive naturally during a gap between cycles, and their little boy started school this week. She has some peace, I think being with her husband gives her the balance and “real world” stuff. She doesn’t have to be “on” academically with him, she can just be the lovely person, mother and partner she is. She used to look at us longingly.

      And am so with you about being the FBI, I am not interested in that life, either.

  2. I’m sorry you can’t be there with your friend to farewell her mother. Hopefully your friend understands…And the girls’ weekend

    • Yeah, this girl is dealing with a cheating husband, but hasn’t confronted him – it’s weird. I have been there for her, but I can’t make her grow lady balls. It’s been a sad few years for her, but she can’t seem to move out of her weird inertia, even with my support.

  3. …sounds like a blast! Enjoy creating new memories. Experience joy. SWxo

  4. Congratulations on your last exam for this year! And a great way to let loose is with women you can trust. Enjoy the time with them.

    I like your statement that mother’s don’t get lost or pass, they die. Very true. When they die, a part of us dies with them. I feel the same way about my wonderful mom. She was the metronome to my life. I miss her each and every day.

    I also relate to how well yours texted you at the same time texting the crazy bitch. Same here. Hard to imagine they could keep us both straight in their minds at that time. What fucking talent.

    • Thanks tempted. I knew you would understand my mum comment. I hate the euphemisms. “I am sorry you lost your mum.” I mean I am very grateful for the comment, but lost. Really? I’m not usually that careless. I put her right there but when I came back, she’d disappeared! Passed? What? She overtook me on the highway? Nah. She died.

      • I was going to let this one slide by me, but with the added comments here, I have to stick my finger in it. We all know very well that loss does not only refer to misplacing something. And we should all be aware that passing on refers to moving on the next phase of existence – afterlife, Heaven, hell, Nirvana, whatever you want to call it. If you don’t believe in it, that’s just fine. Don’t use the phrase. But people who use it are usually being sincere in expressing their sympathy through the words of their faith. Nothing wrong in that.

      • I know DJ. I would never show my annoyance at well intentioned people. Absolutely never. But on my blog I say what’s in my head and heart. My belief system doesn’t feel like I’ve “lost” her. Of that she “passed.” And I would never say that IRL.

      • I was one of those well-intentioned people. But I stand corrected. This is your blog.

      • No correction my dear friend. No offense taken, nor intended xxx

  5. Girl therapy is the best! Enjoy you’re weekend!

  6. I too relate to your comment about your mother, that “she died.” It is a much different statement than she passed or l lost her. There’s closure and finality in death. Something concrete to mourn and grieve.

    • Yeah. Of course you experience loss. But your mum isn’t lost. She is very faintly still about. In the words I use to embarrass my teenagers. In the twinkle of my eldest daughter’s eye as she snapchats me, in the knowing look my son throws me, in the way I eventually find sleep on a particularly sleepless night. I don’t feel her presence heavily, but she is never forgotten. She was here, sparkly, vibrant and full of love and light. Then she died. Just like that.

      • I posted a blog this morning, after reading yours. I think our mother daughter relationships were very different. Yours is the one I lost, but long before she died.

      • I saw that racoro. I am sorry that your mother and yourself had such a rough thing, but sounds like you have come to terms with it, and managed to process as best you can given the circumstances. And that your Dad did the best he could. I feel hopeful that if you did that, then you will eventually find recovery happens for you on this shit journey xx.

  7. I’m so happy that you had and had someone to be there for you. Some of us are too ashamed to tell people. It’s like a dirty little secret. But having someone just hold you while you cry. Having them be there for you works wonders. I was lucky I had and still do have a wonderful support system. I’m so sorry for your loss. But I’m so glad you are experiencing JOY. You are embarking on making some new memories. Congrats on your exam.

    • No joy experienced here yet soccermom. Still seeking that. And I had no choice in people knowing. The whore made sure my whole small hometown knew. The only person who held me when I cried was Rog. Everyone else mostly turned away from me in embarrassment. I meant my boss was understanding. No big deal. But she got it. As only another betrayed does.

      • I’m very lucky. We live in a small gossipy town. She has moved. I celebrated her moving. My fiends were ecstatic. I feel for you. It’s horrible. And shame on her. Why tell people your struggles. Why??? Wheres her shame

      • No shame. Sociopath with NPD. Doesn’t live here so not really shitting in her own nest. Single. She felt smug. Not ashamed. And although I know better as this is NOT my shame to bear, I feel shame. Humiliation and grief for the truly amazing two decades we had prior to his brain exploding. And of course, no one understands. They just think get-the-fuck-over-it. So I don’t hang with that crew anymore. And that is what she wanted. To disrupt my happily ever after. She wins, huh?

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