tales from the surviving straight spouse

When I was 14 I spent a week in Queechee, Vermont and met my official first boyfriend.

He hit a double.

On our last night I was going to meet him for some good bye necking.  I walked through the cottages in the dark.  I came to the edge of the grass where the road meets.  I recalled that there was a drainage ditch between the grass line and the road.  In the dark, I jumped.

I woke up, turned and saw the Vermont star filled sky, my head had broken my fall.  You can see the dent when I wrinkle my forehead.

When I think dealing with DD, I am walking in the dark – there are gaps that I need to remember not to jump.

The latest court order stated that I was to receive alimony and child support through probation.  Probation contacted me to let me know I would be receiving child support – apparently the lawyer and DD filled out the paper work, but only included child support.  More games.

I am worn down.  I know I should continue to push, never sit down, never stop taking the crap he continues to throw my way, but I just want to stop.  I don’t though – I keep going.

I send a text.  I get no response.  I start to text back oh, well, I’ve tried.  I will be in contact with the judge and your lawyer.   I don’t because it goes against a main philosophy of mine, which has been always take the high road.

That philosophy doesn’t work.  This is a man who fooled me for 14 years, a man who took berated me when he lost his erection – and never once felt his sexual attraction for men interfered with our sex life.  I took the high road.  I am the epitome of gullibility.  Taking the high road is noble, but sometimes dumb.

Son #4 calls me to ask about spending the night together.  I ask him if his father is around.  I ask him to put me on speaker.

I ask DD if he got my text about probation and child support/alimony.  He said he did.  I asked him what he wanted to do about it.  I wait for an answer before I supply one myself.  He states that he agrees with me.


He says that he is going to contact probation and straighten things out.  This is the first major thing we have agreed upon since our divorce.

I feel a spark.  It is that old hope, that sick hope, that crazy hope.  Hope is the gap in my life.    Then I think of son #2 and the secrets and lies that I lived for over a decade.  I was kept in the dark.  I still am.

I call the judge’s office and leave a message.

No matter how tempting,  I won’t try to jump the gap.  I will not trust.

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