From the category archives:
Maybe I just didn’t want to hear another “I can’t” or “I’ll try” – each one cutting a bit deeper than the last.
But somewhere along the way I just stopped.
I stopped asking my ex-husband to spend more time – time outside of his 36 hours a week – with our son.
So I’m not sure why, when Benjamin refused to let go of his father this afternoon, I said, “he needs you now, more than ever – maybe you should spend more time with him.” [click to continue…]
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It’s been so long since I’ve had a husband, or even a steady boyfriend for that matter, that I now can only imagine what it would be like. There’s nothing tangible left, not even an old pair of boxer shorts. Just pictures like this one.
At first, when Benjamin was just four-months-old, the memories of having someone were fresh. It pained me to imagine being alone for one more day, let alone a lifetime. Now, nearly three years later, I’ve completely adapted to going it solo, 100% of the time.
With that said, I can’t say that my imaginary husband doesn’t pop into my head every once in a while. He teases me with visions of what it would be like to have some help in the form of a sexy man who I get all to myself forever and ever.
Sometimes I even write him letters.
This week his imaginary chores included:
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Benjamin is catching on to the fact that there is no man in this house.
And it’s hard.
I didn’t think it would be so difficult to hear them:
“Mommy, is Daddy working?”
“Yes, baby, he’s working but he misses you.”
and the new one…
“Mommy, do you have a daddy?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“Where is he? Is he working?”
“No, honey he is gone. But he loves you too.”
I’m awful at this shit.
They’re just so hard to answer – these questions that carry such incredible weight to us adults – so I try to keep it simple. And Benjamin doesn’t just talk about his Daddy every once in a while, it’s at least once an hour. But it’s also every time he’s crying or throwing a fit over something.
Between sobs he always manages an, ” I – waaaaannnnntttt mmmmyyyyy daddddyy.”
It’s hard as hell to hear that in those moments.
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The two men I’ve actually fallen for since becoming a single mom, Kris and Mr. Man, were polar opposites right down to their looks and their age. But they both had one thing in common — Benjamin adored them and they adored him right back. [click to continue…]
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I got a text message at 5:27 a.m. this morning from Benjamin’s father.
“So not coming.”
That’s all it said. No reason why. Nothing. Normally I would have rolled back over and kept sleeping but given that tonight is date night I shot up like a bullet.
“Why? He is expecting you,” I texted back.
Nothing.
Twenty minutes later I call him.
“I’m sick, I’ve been puking all night,” he says.
A wave of memories hits me – the sick days I’ve had with Benjamin, the long voyages to the store or to grandma’s nauseated as hell.
“That’s bull shit,” I said.
Then he hung up the phone.
When Benjamin woke up I had to break the news. He’s been expecting him lately, more than ever because he’s getting older and is now much more aware of Daddy’s presence or absence, whichever it is that week. He took it like a champ and gobbled down his cereal but I know tonight he’ll be crying for him. [click to continue…]
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“I talked to someone who works with your ex’s girlfriend,” my friend said.
“Really? And?”
“She is acting all excited saying he bought a new car and they are all moving to Canada – together.”
My face lit up and then crumbled all at once. Certainly, it must have. I can’t hide anything. It’s annoying. Hearing that felt something like this: conflicted excitement that he’ll finally be completely gone instead of partially gone and then total horror at the idea of him taking them with him – his girlfriend and her six-year-old son.
“When?” I asked.
“She said it would be in a few weeks or something.”
I called Benjamin’s father later this afternoon. Small talk first – brief small talk – and then:
“So? Have you been thinking about Canada? Have you made up your mind?”
“I can’t talk right now. We’re really busy.”
“Well, call me back when you get off. I want to talk about this.”
Still no call.
Just waiting now in the quiet of our apartment. I’m at the precipice, looking over and wondering what’s on the other side. [click to continue…]
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