Yep. So I had to go and fall in love with a man who has more baggage than me. It is a rather unfathomable thought, since my habitual dating over the past three years had led me to believe that I could no longer feel anything again.
Now, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't change it. There are so many benefits to this situation. For one, I think Kev is only able to deal with me because he has learned so much patience hanging out with his 3-year-old. He blows it off when I'm acting stupid and stares blankly at me when I throw a tantrum until I settle down. That, or he laughs quite a bit, and as much as that sometimes pisses me off, I love the way he deals with me. He wouldn't be the same person without the ex-wife and daughter.
The ex I could do without. She's a freakin' loony toon, I swear. And I know he must have loved her at one time, but I don't know how. I haven't even met her (that's going to be a separate journal entry when it happens) and she makes me crazy. She's constantly calling Kev wanting her to rescue her and the kiddo, and it makes me want to scream, "He's not your fucking knight in shining armour! He's my boyfriend! He's not yours anymore! You're REMARRIED!!" But I know that would be selfish and childish and make me look like an ass, quite. So instead, I stand back quietly waiting for him to hang up when she calls. I don't like the effect she has on him. He gets all flustered and cranky.
Tonight I was supposed to see him but with her neurotic behavior, he's been discussing another custody arrangement with his lawyer. And tonight he has Shellie, who is a very sweet 3-year-old, but I don't have much patience for kids and she is so attached to her daddy I think she has a hard time when I'm around. She wants 100 percent of his attention and so do I, so it's better than I am not around so I can give them father-daughter time. Kev would surely leave me if I acted like a selfish wench when he has his daughter. He adores her. I.. well.. I think she's sweet. I also think she screams a lot when she doesn't want to go to bed, but that doesn't mean I don't like her. (It's also something I'd never tell him.) I suppose I don't have too much patience for children who aren't mine. (And that's easy, because I don't have any.)
The kid subject is something I need to start thinking about, because I have a very strange feeling it might be something I need to think about in the near future. We haven't been the smartest about things, and I'm not on the pill, so I better start considering the future. Neither of us want kids right now, and I don't know if I want any ever.. so. That leaves two options if and when the result is positive: tell Kev and chalk it up to what is meant to be will be; or don't tell Kev, and take care of it by myself. It makes me nauseous thinking about it. I don't want to do it again. What if this person is supposed to be the next president of the United States? The first woman president? The inventor of medication that would cure cancer? It is not fair to put someone else's life ito my hands. It's not fair for me to have to make that decision. When we were lying in his bed on Saturday morning, Kev told me that he truly believes everything happens for a reason and that we would get through it.
I'm still scared. And sick to my stomach.
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