Tearing at the Fabric

Of the space-time continuum


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Cosy

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!