Part 9…If you Can’t Say Anything Nice about Anybody, come Sit By Me.

“I’ve taken more than would a fool, I start falling back in love with you” – Alicia Keys, Fallin’

The longer Lestat and I were together, the more aware of the inept nature of the woman he was married to became more evident.  He would show me texts when she was complaining about getting a lot of “slack” (I know I’ll explain) at work because she wasn’t updating her syllabi for the upcoming school year.  I read through the text several times and finally asked him what was it that she was trying to say and he said “she’s trying to say that she’s getting a lot of flak from her principal.”   I thought to myself can she be anymore idiotic? She’s giving teachers a bad name, especially English teachers because of her inept grasp and use of the English language.  I asked him if she used words out of context often and he said yes, almost in a constant awkward manner.

I could go on and on about what a moron this woman is, but I’m not and that is because there is nothing else I can say about her to make her any more stupid (I can and I probably will later on).  And many might think that I’m being harsh, uncaring and judgmental about a woman I hardly know.  But the truth is, I do know her, by proxy.  Okay I know when you hear a firsthand account of something or someone it probably is a bit bias.  But, I saw her texts to him, I felt how Lestat longed for not just a physical or sexual connection but a mental, emotional and intellectual connection as well.  To some people it is vital to be able to connect intellectually to their partner.  And others, like my ex-husband for instance and Fiona those things aren’t as important because they aren’t smart enough to know that their partner might need.  As we get older and those who were lucky enough to marry their best friend, this isn’t a problem.  But then there are those of us who this is made painfully obvious by the people we married and the frustration only grows over time.

My ex-husband was for the most part a good provider, but was bad at growing up or maturing, because letting go of things he loved about his youth was almost impossible for him.  We use to have a 1969 Chevy Camaro, and he began to fix it up to race down at the local drag strip.  Now, this is an expensive hobby a very expensive hobby.  But we were able to afford this because we both had very good paying jobs.  And because we lived in a mobile home our mortgage payment was $195 dollars a month, back in 1992.  For the record this is NOT where I wanted to live because we were conveniently located within walking distance from his mother.

In any case, he fixed up the car and raced it for “fun” but when it came time to be a grown up and seriously think about maybe buying a real house closer to where we both worked (we both commuted more than twenty-five miles one way, everyday) he began to think like an adult.  That is until his mother put in her two cents and changed his mind literally overnight.  This is when I realized that he didn’t listen to what I wanted or needed, he was a HUGE mama’s boy and listened to what his mother wanted and said.  There after began the deterioration of our already fragile marriage.  One can only endure being married to a stunted eighteen year old for only so long.  And the final crack in the marriage facade came when I told him I wanted to go to college, and he outright said no.  He told me I didn’t need to go to college because we were already established financially and my “place” was raising our children and keeping our household.

I already knew whose words these were, because my ex wasn’t smart enough to put those words together.  These poisonous words came out of the viper-tonged mouth of his mother, who enjoyed the meddlesome relationship she had with her only son.  So when I left him it shouldn’t have come as a shock, but it actually did.  And when we spoke again after I left him he asked me to come back and I said “not as long as you mother is still on this earth, thank you.” Of course he didn’t like that, but I knew the kind of woman his mother was, and I wasn’t the only “in-law” to rebel against her.  She had one daughter-in-law and two son-in-law’s and all of us disliked her for the very same reasons……..she was a hypocritical bitch who always got her way.   She was a domineering woman who told her married children what to do, when to do it and how to do it.

But I was the first one to bail out on this hypocritical family and it’s religiously fanatical matriarch.  So, when I left I made it known that everything we had gone through was because we were making horrendous mistakes as married teenagers, but they were only made worse by his mother and his inability to grow a pair of balls and put her in her place.  Because he was really good at trying to do it with me, he was just doing it to the wrong women.  So I left, and I was glad I did, if I had stayed I wouldn’t have gone to college, gotten my bachelor’s or my masters, found my dream job but I also wouldn’t have met Lestat either, okay so three out of four isn’t bad.  So both I and Lestat had marriage issues that were brought about by partners that were unable to be supportive or encouraging in anyway whatsoever.  Maybe that’s why we gravitated towards each other the way we did, who knows?

Lestat told me one day over lunch that he couldn’t talk with Fiona about anything because she couldn’t hold an adult conversation whatsoever. He became increasingly annoyed at the fact that all they had in common was their kids.  She showed no interest in learning about what he was interested in, and he did the same because he said her range of interests were watching t.v, her job as a teacher or the kids.  Oh, and being religiously Catholic, but even that was a topic of discord because she would lecture him on how sex was only for having kids.  Lestat thus began to look for that kind of comfort elsewhere as well intellectual stimulation.  One day he mentioned to me that she still watches shows that were meant for middle or high school kids.  He explained that their morning routine went like this, he’d wake up and turn on the television in their bedroom to watch CNN or any other news network, then jump into the shower to get ready for work.  When he’d get out of the shower he’d find her sitting on the bed watching reruns of (get this)……Saved by the Bell or Beverly Hills 90210.

You heard that right, a woman in her late forties, early fifties was still watching teen dramas from the 1990’s!  If this isn’t a sign of stunted mental development, and it be disturbing because of the fact that she is supposedly an “educated” women AND a teacher I don’t know what is.  He said he’s ask her if she was interested in anything going on in the world outside of her job, and he told me she just stared at him (like deer in headlights, his words not mine) and had no reply.  He would then turn around and change the television station back to the news and would finish getting ready for work while she would get mad and then go get ready herself.  I had asked if he had tried to talk to her about different things and he responded with yes he did several times but she wasn’t one to continue the conversation because she wasn’t interested in the same things he was.  Which included his health and well being which also pissed me off.  I mean come the fuck on, even I cared about my stupid ex-husbands health when we were married and made sure he took care of himself or I took care of him when he got sick, not for my sake but for my boys, after all he is their dad.

But not this stupid bitch, she was ignorant to everything that had to do with him.  One summer his doctor referred him to a dermatologist because of mole he had on his right temple, it turned out to be skin cancer and she could’ve cared less, he got food poisoning and passed out on the toilet (I’m sure he’ll love that I wrote about this) and she ran around the house screaming not knowing what to do instead of calling the fucking ambulance.  Of course she never bothered to see if he had a pulse or if he was still breathing, she just ran around like a goddamned idiot screaming at her daughter (who by the way didn’t know what the fuck to do either) until the daughter called 911.

How do I know this?  Because despite the fact that he had fallen off the toilet, he was semi-conscience and could hear her screaming and running around their bedroom for an entire ten minutes.  He then turned to me and said “if we lived together and that happened to me what would you have done?”  I took his face in my hands and I kissed him and then said “I would have called the fucking ambulance as soon as you fell off the goddamned toilet, that’s what!”  And since I know CPR I would have checked for a pulse and tried to get you to talk to me to try and see what you were feeling.  He looked at me with a smile and told me “I believe you would have” and I responded with of course I fucking would have.

But that isn’t to say that this dysfunctional relationship was more dysfunctional than most, because it was.  It was fucked up beyond anything I had read or heard about and that’s saying a lot because I grew up in a dysfunctional family.  Because we talked knew each other so well, we had so much in common and I also knew what he went through professionally, he was a contractor and a very shrewd businessman.   He knew his shit when it came to construction in general but particularly HVAC and electrical and he was in business with his oldest brother, who knew about me.  Come to think of it, most of his siblings knew about me, his oldest brother, his second oldest brother and his only sister who was his secretary in his company.  Actually he also had three cousins that knew about me as well, which kind of makes me think now that his wife is really stupid because half of his family knew he had a mistress, and she was in the dark about her husband and what he did when he wasn’t home.  In any case I knew the stress that he went through because of his business, and sometimes when his sister wasn’t around he’d ask me to do some administrative things for his company.  And I would because again I was in love and waiting for him to turn into Charming.

I was more of a wife to him than his wife was, except the one thing she had over me was that she begrudgingly gave birth to his two kids and I hadn’t.  But I am glad that during the entire time I had my uterus (I’ll explain later about this later) I hadn’t gotten pregnant by him.  That would have been a nightmare entirely, simply because I had all the kids I wanted to have and because if I had had a child of his how would I explained to this wonderful bundle of joy as he got older that his dad didn’t live with me or that his dad was married to someone else and he had two other children he could never meet.  I say “he” because I don’t think I’m genetically engineered to have a girl, we’ll leave it at that.  By now you’re thinking, how did you have a married boyfriend and keep this fact from your three boys?

Well the truth is I didn’t, as my boys became men I told them the truth about my relationship with Lestat.  It wasn’t an easy thing to do, nor do I condone for anyone else to be doing what I did.  But I also mentioned to them that I hadn’t intended on falling in love with a married man.  I explained that when I first met him he was separated and was ironing out the issues for him to divorce, and we dated with this intention to eventually come to fruition.  This was (supposedly) a mutual decision even after he found out his wife was pregnant with his second child (you know the child they decided to have so their son wouldn’t be alone in this world without a sibling?).

He told me about his situation going into our second month of dating, and I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut and my blood ran cold.  He knelt down in front of me and explained that his wife was expecting and that they were separated and that they had planned this pregnancy for the sake of his son.  He also explained that his marriage was broken and they both intended to get a divorce.  I accepted his explanation because I didn’t think he had any reason to lie to me, besides we had just met two months prior and I didn’t know I’d wind up falling for Lestat the Emotional Vampire disguised as Prince Charming.  I mean his performance of Charming could have won the Academy Award for best actor, he was that good.  So since we’re Fiona bashing (you see I mentioned her again) I’ll also mention that she’s a lousy cook and horrible housekeeper.

First of all it’s a mother’s responsibility to teach our children many things and your mother should teach you how to cook and care for your home. No this isn’t a stereotype, I’m talking about children in general, it doesn’t matter if their male or female they should all know how to cook, clean, wash their own clothes and iron!  Unless your mother is just as bad at things like cooking and rearing children then you’re pretty much fucked.  Like Fiona is/was because her mother was just as big an idiot as she is (fruit……tree, didn’t fall far, remember?).   I’ve taught my boys to be self-sufficient because god forbid that they get married and their wives complain they don’t know how to do anything.  I mean I don’t want to bitch-slap these imaginary daughter-in-law’s but I will if I have to.  And as a single mother I also taught them how to drive, shave and talking to them about safe sex.  Because let’s face it as much as one wants to keep their children from making the same mistakes we’ve made, we can’t.

So talking to my boys about safe sex was one way of trying to make them aware that becoming a teen-aged parent would change the course of their lives forever.  It must have worked because all three made it through high school without getting anyone pregnant.  Being both a mother and father wasn’t easy, there are just some things that boys need a father for.  But that didn’t stop me from trying to be a solid mother and father figure to my boys.  I had to, their dad actively chose not to participate in their lives because he decided he’d have a do over and marry again and start another family all the while ignoring the children he already had.  So, I took on the role of both and I cherished every minute.  But as I was saying, being a parent we need to show our kids how to do certain things so that they can get along in life.  Simple things like to cook for themselves and clean, wash and maintain their cars.

And thank God I had a mother that was not only a fabulous cook and owned a restaurant before going to work for the school district, but she was raised by an ex-Army man who showed her how to make beds with hospital corners you could bounce a quarter off of.   As well as clean the floor so good you could eat off of, how to clean the kitchen to avoid food contamination and iron clothes so crisp they could practically stand on their own, this was my grandfather, Manuel Marin (love ya grandpa).  My mom had a good teacher and so did I and therefore even though my boys aren’t three star chefs they can cook for and do for themselves.  Which brings me back to Fiona, so in her case she had a mother who for all intents and purposes was a horrendous cook and a failure as a mother (her other daughter stole money from her, was a habitual drug addict and sold her car without her knowing and abandon her three children with their grandmother, need I say more?).   Lestat told me he hated holidays’ because he was forced to eat his mother-in-law’s horrible cooking.  Which transferred over to his wife, but it’s amazing what you get use to going through Relational Stockholm syndrome, you get use to bad cooking and bad care period.  I know some of you will read this and form opinions that I am judging this woman because of the fact that I was seeing her husband therefore I hated her by default.

Well, that’s wrong because I hate her for so many other reasons than just being married to the man that I was in love with.  The disdain went farther than her being a dumb ass in general, I had never seen or heard for myself how she behaved or treated her husband first hand I may have never found out what she was really like and I would probably still feel bad for her.  And maybe I was bias in a way, but being able to get inside Intel about what Lestat’s marriage was/is like, and as an intelligent person that can form my own opinions about a situation I was in, I saw what he went through.  I will say this though, there is always three sides to every story, his, hers and the truth.  It’s going to sound very contradictory but my theory of Relational Stockholm syndrome is complicated.  Every relationship has three sides to it, his side, her side and what really happens.  But of course no one will ever hear what really happens because neither he nor she is going to explain that side.

They will always make their side the innocent side, and the other side villainous and callous.  Again I know that you all are thinking “so how come you only take his side?” well the fact is I did, but I consider myself to be a fair person.  Let me elaborate on this,  one day he explained to me that his wife was on her way to work and at a two way stop near their house and she got sideswiped by an oncoming car when she had the right of way.  Thus crashing into her SUV on the passenger side right in the middle of the front and back doors.  After a long and arduous experience with their insurance company, it was decided that her Toyota Sequoia was going to be totaled because it was hit from the side and the frame of the car was bent and couldn’t be repaired.  You’ve seen these salvaged cars and trucks on the road all the time, you’re driving behind them and they seem that they’re driving crooked or off balance.  Anyway he explained that he went to a Chevrolet dealership and bought her a new 2010 Chevy Tahoe and took it home and handed her the keys.

I remember exactly what we were doing when he was explaining this to me, we were having lunch and as I sat there and listened to him trying to explain how he had gone about buying her a new car to get the ordeal over with.  I sat there eating my salad and looking at him in wonder and some small amounts of contempt, I asked him what she said about her new car.  He said that she began to cry (apparently that’s her only type of defense) and he said to me while slicing through his pizza with a fork and knife (hey I never said he was perfect) “can you believe that?  I go out and buy her a new car and she fucking cried?”  I looked down at my salad and without looking up I responded with “Yeah I believe it, she’s weak because you wouldn’t have been able to pull that shit on me that’s for damned sure.”  He looked up at me, and I could see that clouds of confusion and anger were glossing over his beautiful honey colored eyes as he responded with “What? Are you serious?!”

I put down my fork and took a sip of my iced tea because I was getting ready to slam him with some philosophical bitch-slapping that was going to leave him in deep, deep thought and maybe with some new and important insight about me and women in general.  And this is what I said, “If, and I do mean if you and I were married and I had been driving around a rental vehicle for three weeks and one day you just casually walked in and handed me keys to a car I hadn’t seen let alone wanted, I would have been pissed.  I would have taken the keys from you, retrieved my purse and gotten in the car you bought without my permission or input and driven back to the dealership and picked out something I liked.”

His face turned hard as he sat back into the red leather booth we were sitting in and crossed his arms over his chest.  He looked out the window at the raindrops streaking the plate glass window, dark grey covered the sky and the clouds I had seen in his eyes before were getting darker.  He looked over at me and stared intently into my eyes as if searching for the lost little girl he once knew.  I saw this as a challenge of some sort and I stared back at him and not once did I blink (the grown up version of a staring contest).

He sighed loudly and finally spoke and said “I really never thought about it that way, I guess your right” and in some small way I had just fought a battle for his stupid horse faced wife and she didn’t even know it.  I picked up my fork and said “you bet your ass I’m right, so don’t ever fucking do shit like that again.”  I can and am fair in many ways, and that day I thought that he acted as if he was dragging his knuckles on the ground and needed to know that when your married it’s a two way street, even when it comes to buying a car.  I’m pretty sure some wives would have appreciated the “gesture” he made, but it might be an act that would have eventually been resented and used as ammunition in future fights.  Independence was something that I was learning but didn’t realize it at the time, and it was happening quicker than he anticipated as well.

Despite the fact that I cared for him deeply and looked after his well-being, well as much as I possibly could NOT being his wife.  I, for the most part, was not immune to the insensitive nature of this relationship.  For example, even though we began dating while he was separated the aftermath still came with consequences.  Not once during our twenty year relationship did he ever spend the holidays with me.  During the duration of our time together I had to endure endless Christmas’ and Thanksgivings alone (well with my family but alone without the man I was in love with) and this didn’t seem to faze him.  I, on the other hand would feel devastated and honestly I should have felt that way.

But when you love someone, during normal circumstances you should be together during the holidays because that’s who you’re with and it’s only natural to do so.  But not in my case, I should have become unaffected to the insensitive nature of this twisted and toxic relationship as time went by.  But as much as I wanted too, I could not just flip a switch to make it happen, even though I wanted it to. During the holiday’s he’d spend Christmas with his family and the photos posted to their social media would portray a happy family, but l knew it was fake, it was all fake.  And despite knowing this here I was again looking from the outside in and wishing that the motherfucker would make up his goddamned mind.  But as time went on those feelings of love and caring turned to narcotization, I didn’t care what he did or if I’d see him for the holidays or prior to them.  After the desensitization began to happen I hadn’t even realized that it had happened.  That’s when he began to notice that I was acting “like I didn’t care” if he was going out of town to visit his spoiled kids in San Antonio.  I suppose it was part of the vampirism he inflicted on me and I was turning into someone devoid of feelings, well not too much but turning into something that he was no longer going to recognize.

I hadn’t asked much from him at this point in my life because I thought if I ask he’ll see it as some sort of dependence and he might see it as a turn off.  I thought he’ll start to see me as needy (like his wife) and leave, okay the thought is stupid but it was very real back then.  I had never demanded that he help me but in the back of my mind I thought I didn’t need to.  I thought that because he loved me he’d want to help when I needed it.  But that was far from the truth.  So, Lestat stayed blissfully unaware or ignored the signs I needed help and I went through some very real hardships.  Stay tuned for part ten….

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