Tag Archives: divorce

My dad’s kinda guy.

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who you’ll get along with
You’ll sail the open seas
Laugh when the sun goes down
And share the catch of the day

But when the boat docks
He’ll deconstruct the ship you built
Replacing the polished wood
With bricks of dirt
Turned from the bowels of the ocean

My dad’s the kinda guy who starts shit
He remembers the things
You’ve blocked from your memory
For good reason
“Hey, hey remember that time you were super embarrassed? Yeah that was hilarious”

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who took his daughter to lunch
And said he was leaving
Packed his shit and left
Right after dessert
He’s the kinda guy
Who dates before the divorce is final
Who still shit talks the mother of his daughter
Even 10 years after the split

My dads the kinda guy
Who’s got 2 ex wives
Who is happy with the common law
Because he won’t actually marry his girlfriend
But he’ll live in her house
Sleep in her bed
And judge his neighbor for doing the same

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who didn’t pay child support
Who left his wife and child to fend for themselves
Until he was served in court and threatened with jail

My dad’s the kinda guy who
Hates valentines day because of jewelry commercials
Because women shouldn’t expect a damn thing
He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t drive on holidays
Because that would mean seeing family
He doesn’t mow the grass on Sundays
But he doesn’t go to church
He doesn’t put up a Christmas tree
Because he’s just too good for things like that

He’s the kinda guy who makes everything a contest
But there is no prize

My dad’s the kinda guy who had
A full scholarship
And dropped out of college after one semester
Because it was too hard
He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t say congratulations
For things like graduating college
Getting a job

He’s the kinda guy who wants to know why you called
“Did you have something to say?”

He lives in fantasy land but
Still believes life should be hard

He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t give out his address
Not even to his family
Because everyone is out to get him
He’s the kinda guy who hates suburbia
But refuses to live in the country
He’s the Mr Wilson to my Dennis the Menace
He’s the kinda guy
Who will fire his entire staff
Just because he can
Who still expects a game of thrones on Father’s Day
Like he deserves to be king

He is a catch 22

So if you meet him
And the ship doesn’t sail so smooth
Consider that
A success story

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When a 6-year-old hates you.

Last Friday night, D told me he had to go out of town for work on Monday, and would be late picking up his daughter from the bus stop.

He asked if I’d be willing to pick her up and entertain her until about 6 p.m., when he got home. I said I would only do it if she wanted me to. So he said he’d call her on Saturday and find out what she wanted to do.

In the 24 hours that passed, I started thinking that if she wanted me to pick her up, we could finally complete the craft I’d gotten supplies for: decorating buckets to plant flowers in (I even bought flowers and potting soil). When D got home, he could make us dinner, and it would be a fun evening. D agreed that it would give me and E a chance to bond.

On Saturday night, D and I went out to meet a few of his friends and have a margarita. Mid-drink, I asked him if he talked to E.

“Yeah…um…my mom is just going to pick her up,” he said. “She really wasn’t too keen on you picking her up.”

I hung my head. “Oh,” I said.

The tears started to well-up in the rims of my eyes. I was heartbroken.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It makes me really sad,” I said. “I didn’t think she liked me, but this just drives it right home that she doesn’t. I was really hoping she’d want me to pick her up.”

“Baby, don’t be upset,” he said. “She just likes for me to pick her up. She really wasn’t excited about my mom picking her up either.”

I stirred my drink.

“This is completely new for her,” he said. “She likes you, she’s just not ready to be with you one-on-one.”

I tried to just put it all out of my head, drink my tequila, and move on, but I was really upset. I understand this is new for her, but it’s new for me, too. I’ve never dated anyone with a child, and I’ve really never been around kids, so I don’t know how to act, and it’s frustrating.

The fact that she doesn’t like me is a strike against me. No matter how great a girlfriend I can be for D, the love of his life doesn’t like me. And I get it, if I were her, I wouldn’t like me either.

Because I can be honest here, I’ll tell you, that since this conversation, I don’t want to be around her at all. I feel like the evil stepmother. I understand that if I don’t spend time with her, she won’t get to know me and she’ll never like me. But if she doesn’t like me, I don’t want to be somewhere that I’m not wanted. I don’t want to intrude on daughter-father time.

I’m really torn. I like D, and I think our relationship is going to be around for awhile, so what do I do?

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Met the daughter.

I met D’s daughter, E, Monday night.

Considering I just met his parents a week before that, 2 things are happening in my mind. 1. Yeah, things are certainly faster than I am used to. And 2., my nerves are shot.

I was nervous to meet his parents, but even more nervous to meet his daughter. I have about ZERO experience with kids.

Considering she doesn’t like The Biebs (absolute bullshit), I resorted to the only other thing I’ve got: bribery. And I went to Justice.

D gave me about 5 hours notice on this meeting, so I ran to the mall on my lunch break, walked into Justice, bee-lining it for a salesclerk.

“I am meeting my boyfriend’s 6 year old daughter tonight and I wanted to get her a little gift and I am clueless,” I screamed.

Once we determined that I didn’t want to buy clothes, I was directed toward the accessories and told which items were “super popular.”

In the end, I purchased a wristlet (pink and white polka dot covered in glitter, complete with a hot green E), purple cheetah shoelaces, and two rhinestoned pink and purple friendship bracelets. I wrapped it all in hot pink wrapping paper and brought it with me to the pizza place.

Upon arrival, E was super shy, which is out of character from what I’d been told. She didn’t want to look at me, and was asking D things to ask me.

“Why don’t you ask her, she’s right there,” he told her.

Eventually, she came around and we talked about her school and the tooth fairy (did you know when you look at the tooth fairy, she becomes invisible?).

“Lucky is a rabbit, E, she eats salads,” D told her when our food arrived.

E was shocked to learn that rabbits eat salads.

When she was finished with her meal, I handed over the gift. I am convinced it could have been a box of turds and she would have loved it if it had a Justice tag on it.

After dinner we walked around some, going to the bookstore. I had fun looking at Barbie books with her (we picked out the Barbies wearing the prettiest dresses). Finally, we went to see Oz.

Of course, our order at the concession stand made me laugh—E making sure she got the BLUE sour punch straws. When we got to the theatre, E insisted on sitting between us, which resulted in a 2-hour long popcorn fight between D and I, behind her back.

According to E, her daddy is “OBSESSED” with butter.

At the end of the night, D told me he was glad to see us get along. He seemed extra sweet, telling me he “just spent a great evening with the two most important ladies in his life.”

I enjoyed hanging out as a threesome so much, I asked D if him and E would like to come over this Monday night to make pizzas. They said yes.

Anyone know how to make pizza?

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The diagnosis.

To be honest with you all, part of me thought that jumping into this fun and very sweet relationship would fix a lot of my problems—make me feel better about myself. I wondered if I would even have stuff to talk to Lopez about.

Well, as you can probably imagine, it didn’t fix me, and I still have plenty to talk to Lopez about.

Our appointment last week (which went over 12 minutes) proved that. I told him that despite things going well with D, whenever we part ways, I find I feel this heaviness on my back. Like I cannot hold my head up.

It’s not like we fight and I get upset or that I’m scared he’ll cheat, it’s just a heavy feeling for reasons I can’t quite pinpoint yet.

I shared with Lopez a piece of my past that I hadn’t yet: 2 boyfriends I had years ago “dumped” me by simply not talking to me.

The first was a boy named Adam. He was my best friend, and we fell in love one summer during college. We decided to stay together when school started, despite living states away. In October, I flew to visit him for a few days. We had a great time, but when he took me to the airport, we were both really sad.

When I landed back at school, he was weird on the phone. Eventually, he stopped answering my calls, texts, emails… and I never saw him again. I knew it was over when he started posting pictures of him with a girl (his now-wife) on Halloween, just weeks after I saw him.

That was about 8 years ago. I dated someone two years later, who drove me back home so he could meet my parents. We had a great time and laughed all the way back to our city. But when I dropped him off at his house, I felt the weight.

In the days following, he didn’t answer my calls or texts. I knew it was over. I cried during my walks to class.

When I told Lopez this, he paused, and told me this.

“You’re reacting to something that was very traumatic,” he said. “It’s like you have PTSD.”

While I’d heard of PTSD and knew a little about it, I did some Googling. Here’s what I found:

Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma. This event may involve the threat of death to oneself or to someone else, or to one’s own or someone else’s physical, sexual, or psychological integrity, overwhelming the individual’s ability to cope. As an effect of psychological trauma, PTSD is less frequent and more enduring than the more commonly seen post traumatic stress (also known as acute stress response). Diagnostic symptoms for PTSD include re-experiencing the original trauma(s) through flashbacks or nightmares, avoidance of stimuli associated with the trauma, and increased arousal—such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, anger, and hypervigilance. Formal diagnostic criteria require that the symptoms last more than one month and cause significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

Hmm yeah, I fit like all of that.

It’s like, the logical side of me knows that when me and D part ways, like when I leave for work in the mornings, and everything is fine, that everything will continue to be fine until it’s not fine anymore. But my heart, my heart knows that things have been fine before and then they weren’t for no logical reason, and at this point, I am invested and that scares the shit out of me.

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Songs that make bad relationships okay.

This is a post I’ve been thinking about for a long time, bear with me.

It all started when I was in the God-awful wedding last summer. You know, the one where the hubby-to-be convinced the bride-to-be she was an alcoholic, so she decided to make all of the events dry and I drank anyway, and then found out he tried to call off the wedding. It was two people that should’ve never gotten married and their wedding song was a song that people in bad relationships love because the song glorifies shitty situations.

And the more I listen to the radio, the more I hear songs like these. So, I present to you, Lucky’s list of songs that make bad relationships seem like a fine idea.

1. I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz

This is the song the awful couple danced to at their wedding. Because OF COURSE they did. The couple that got together, broke up, got together, got engaged, tried to call it off, went to counseling, and forced a wedding upon us all, needed a song that basically sings, “I’ve invested all of this time in us so I’m never leaving even if the world ends.”

2. One More Night by Maroon 5

I like this song. But I will say that when I was hooking up with the married guy, he told me that this song made him think of me and how he always wanted “one more night.” Ugh.

I mean the song is basically saying, “yeah we fight all the time but we are both hot so let’s fuck just one more time.”

3. We Found Love by Rihanna

There aren’t many words to this song aside from “We found love in a hopeless place,” which basically makes me think of that time Chris Brown punched Rihanna in the face and then she got back together with him and came out with this song like anyone gave a shit.

4. You Know That I’m No Good by Amy Winehouse

I love Amy Winehouse. And I love this song. But it’s just an anthem for cheaters everywhere singin’ HAY I CHEATED, BUT I TOLD YOU I WOULD!!!!

5. Ordinary People by John Legend

Again, love John Legend. And I love this song. A lot. However, the lyrics to this song just make it THE JAM for anyone in a relationship that just had a fight and then you can say, “Oh, we’re just ordinary people.” It’s essentially the “YOLO” of bad relationships. Besides, what does “ordinary people” even mean?

Got any songs to add to this list?

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If I was your boyfriend (part 2).

He asked me if I was ready to eat, motioning to the dining room.

“I think our table is ready,” he said.

We sat down, and our waitress (who had the look and name of a mermaid) greeted us. She had no menus.

“I heard from the chef you guys are doing ‘the experience,’ tonight?”

My date, D, nodded and ordered a bottle of wine, “The Prisoner,” he said. The waitress raised her eyebrows and left, returning with the manager, who uncorked our bottle and decantered it for us. I didn’t know what “The Experience” was and I’d never ordered a bottle of wine so nice it demanded additional attention.

“I hope you like the menu they have planned for us,” he said. “Are you a picky eater?”

I said no, and we got to talking. He was a year older than me, still trying to finish school, while working as a server. He was divorced with a 5-year-old daughter named Emma. He said he got married too young, and the split was amicable. His phone was full of pictures of Emma, who he took on “Daddy-daughter dates” on Tuesday nights.

Course by course, our food arrived. We had soup, an appetizer, braised pork, muscles and pasta, and dessert. And two additional bottles of wine. The tables around us cleared, the bar was empty. We made friendly with our waitress and the manager, after the chef came out to our table to ask us if we enjoyed the meal.

With the permission of the staff, we stayed while they cleaned, dancing right in the dining room (where I actually fell, like a drunk ass). When we were both too tired and drunk to continue, we walked outside, and shared our first kiss.

It was nice. It was definitely one of the best dates I’d ever been on.

In the days after, I heard from D, but usually late at night. He was kind, said he missed me, but only asked me to hang out in groups, not for a second date. Eventually, I stopped hearing from him.

Over the course of the year, we would text occasionally, if something reminded us of each other. On Valentine’s Day this year, I was talking with a friend at work who said something that made me think of him. I decided to go for it, send him a text and let him know.

“Was just thinking about you, Happy Valentine’s Day, D!”

D: Crazy thing, I thought about you the other day. Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, Lucky!

ME: Aw, I hope it was a good thought?

D: Always a good thought when it comes to you.

We chatted some over the next few days, mostly just friendly chat. The following week, it started to get a little flirty, texting almost all day everyday, until he asked if he could call me one night. Of course!

We had a nice chat, clicked just like I remembered, and I asked him why he didn’t ask me on a second date if he supposedly had just as great a time as I did?

“I had an amazing time with you, but I wasn’t in a position to date. I hit a slump in my life, had to move back home for a little but, and was embarrassed. I was intimidated by you and didn’t think I had anything to offer you.”


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Spilling my big secret (part 3)

A few days later, David’s wife saw a picture posted on Facebook of him and a friend, a girl. She got jealous, and said she wanted to talk.

Both of us knew the talk would probably be the end of “us”—whatever that was.

Sure enough, she admitted that the problems in their marriage were because she hadn’t made an effort to fix things. She promised to try harder, and a line in the sand was drawn: 2 months to change, or they’d part ways.

In order to give the marriage an “honest try,” he said we needed to be friends, friends only.

Of course, I was saddened by this news. I wanted nothing more than for him to admit that his feelings for me were undeniable, and he’d show up at my door (with it raining outside)…hehe.

But, this was the best way it could end (as opposed to her showing up at my house with an axe).

The “2 month” thing is arbitrary and I don’t really get it—they aren’t going to get a divorce—but that’s probably something on their end that I just don’t understand.

I was scared shitless to tell anyone, because I was ashamed. I felt guilty; I felt like a home wrecker. But I told Gizzy, and as my friend, she was kind and didn’t judge me.

It was enough to give me the courage to talk to my counselor about it, and piece together some answers.

The bottom line is this: I am still a broken person trying to find a connection. When I found it, it was strong, but he is married. And to me, that’s just a symbol of where I’m at right now.

I’m close, but not quite there yet.

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Spilling my big secret (Part 2).

During the kiss I wasn’t thinking just how bad it really was—I was way too swept up in all of it. He pushed me up against my kitchen counter, and I realized just how good of a body this guy had. Despite clearly wanting more, I pushed him away and told him to quit, that I needed to go meet my friends.

Although we parted ways for the night, I was walking on cloud 9… while at the same time feeling guilty as hell.

We didn’t see each other for the next few days, but we talked several times, and when we finally did see each other, we had sex.

Not just…sex.

Fucking amazing sex.

Because of course it was, right? That sweet apple in the garden thing…

When he left my apartment, I figured he would never talk to me again. He’d go home, realize the massive mistake he’d made, and that would be the end of that.

Mixed emotions were swirling around me. How could I fall for a guy that’s married? Once a cheater, always a cheater, right? But the kiss, and his body, and the SEX. God damn. Would it end with his wife beating my door down? Calling me and asking me 20 questions? A private detective?

I was wrong about him not talking to me—he certainly did, just an hour or so later. The talk about his wife was an open subject for us. The real focus, however, was his daughter. He didn’t want to get a divorce and have his 9-year-old daughter hate him. The thought of another man raising his daughter killed him.

The next day, I saw him at the gym and he pulled me aside.

DAVID: Hey listen to this… this morning me and my wife were getting ready to go to work and she tells me she had this dream that I cheated on her…that I was really nonchalant about it because she’s such a bitch…

ME: Holy shit…psychic!

We sort of chuckled it off, but my dream state began to crumble. What was I doing?

The questions of him leaving his family were never questions for me, because I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I don’t know if that was reality talking, or just me building bricks of mud around myself. I suppose that was the one thing that kept me from falling completely.

But I can’t say I didn’t have fantasies of us being together, for real, without the secrets.

The following night, we ate dinner together, watched TV, and had another round of amazing sex after he carried me into my bedroom. When he went home, he told me his wife was doing her usual—sitting on the back porch drinking with her friends.

WIFE & CO: What are you doing here? Thought you were with your friends?

DAVID: I was, but you guys made it sound like I needed to be here.

WIFE & CO: Nope. You should’ve stayed.

DAVID: I guess I should’ve.

WIFE: Hey Tina, how often do you guys have sex? David always complains it’s not enough.

TINA: Well, how often is it?

DAVID: Every 8 weeks.

WIFE: No! It’s more than that!

DAVID: Really? Pull it up on your Period Tracker and tell me when the last time was.

WIFE: Oh… um, 6 weeks ago.

DAVID: Yea, you know what? I don’t even want to have sex with you anymore. I don’t need it.

WIFE: Oh yea? We’ll see about that.

**(To Be Continued…)**

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The definition of insanity.

According to my therapist, the reason I don’t give a shit about hooking up with J isn’t because I’m crazy or heartless…it’s because I’m in a very “confusing” time in my life right now.

One one hand, I’m glad that I don’t care because I don’t want to get wrapped up in a guy, but on the other hand, this behavior is so unlike me, and it makes me feel weird and confused.

C’est la vie.

I accepted this reason, and then didn’t feel so bad for acting like a slut bag. I met up with the group, including J, on Friday for the usual festivities, but to my horror, he somehow ended up right back at my apartment where we were last Friday night.


However, we didn’t even kiss. We just drank, did some Googling on Kurt Cobain’s death (Courtney did it), and went to sleep. The next day however, we met back up with the group and did some SERIOUS drinking, and all paths were leading to the bed.

Don’t worry, we didn’t have sex.

We did make out though, only this time, I really didn’t feel a damn thing. Like nothing. In fact, I just wanted to go to sleep.

And you know what else? He has a small penis.

There. I said it.

He jokes (while in bed) about it being small, saying there is no shaft, its just a head attached to balls, and you know what? It almost is.

Anyway, I feel like a really huge bitch now, so I’m going to go ahead and leave you with that.

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Aand pretty standard.

I planned on having a relaxing weekend, full of sleep and checking off my giant to-do list for this week. Oh, but that didn’t really end up happening.

After work Friday, I headed over to the normal Mexican restaurant where I meet the group for tacos and margaritas. About an hour in, we were all buzzing, and talks of heading to the bar afterward was the topic on hand.

For the last week, I’ve been texting with one of the guys in our group, I’ll call him J. He’s funny, nice, however going through a divorce. I honestly don’t know many of the details, but… yeah.

I will say I’ve enjoyed talking to him, and a part of me has always felt some sort of attraction toward him. However, I was, nor am I, on any type of mission to get involved there.

So after three margaritas, or maybe four, we headed to the bar, kept drinking and danced like fools. I wish I could remember more—like what songs we danced to. But, I just remember jumping around, dancing, singing, laughing, and even waltzing with J.

It was a fun night.

During our waltz, J informed me that he’s had a good time texting with me, he thinks I’m beautiful, but he knows he’s “damaged goods” right now. He doesn’t want to hurt me.

I was drunk and I think appeared upset over this, but I was thankful he told me the truth.

At the end of the night, I was barely able to stand, and of course unable to drive. J insisted that he drive us to our friend’s, where we then kissed in her living room.

Against my better judgment, I hopped into her guest bed with him, and proceeded to full on make out with him, and remove my clothing for additional naughty behavior.

Don’t worry. We didn’t have sex.

In the morning, we briefly talked, and he drove me to my car.

He apologized for his actions and words contradicting each other, and I appreciated that, but I also understood where he was coming from. I absolutely do not want it to be weird between us.

I feel different about this. I think I am in a new place than I was before. Normally, a night like this would have sent me on an emotional roller coaster; hoping that I could change his mind and get him to like me, despite his need for space.

But I don’t feel that way at all.

We were drunk, we messed around, and we still enjoy each other’s company. So what? I just hope that our friendship remains the same…and okay, if we have a drunken make out a time or two, I’m cool with that.

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