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Adolescent Primetime Sitcom Star.

Posted on 2009.07.26 at 06:43
Condition: awakeawake
Electric Relaxation: maxwell | pretty wings
So. The end to a pretty awful week. I welcome it gladly.

I have no reason to be up this late, but here I am. Writing. And maybe writing will make me feel better again, like it used to before everything got weird. I hold things in because because in my head it is better to suffer in silence than on repeat for the entire world to see. But, fuck it. Sometimes you just have to lay yourself bare. Besides, I'm too old to give a fuck about appearances. For the last eight years this show has been about ME, flaws and all, and that will not change.

Which means the journaling will most likely remain sporadic. Because if I ain't feelin' it, I ain't feelin' it.


A week ago from yesterday, I took a pregnancy test. After three minutes, two lines appeared. I emerged from the bathroom, hugged my husband, and from there we took turns contacting friends and family. Three days later I was in an emergency room, grotesquely splayed on an examination table with a bedpan shoved under my lower back and a speculum in my hoo-ha. A "poor man's pelvic exam," the attending doc called it. So much for my fancy-pants insurance.

After four hours and another pregnancy test, we learned that I was no longer pregnant. The tears started. They have not stopped.

The idea of motherhood, however brief, was something I actually welcomed. I loved that he fell asleep rubbing my tummy like a golden lamp, enjoyed debating whether it would be a boy or girl.

I know it's not too late, and that we can try again. But I can't help but think about what might have been.

How ironic that the champion of the childfree set completely loses her shit upon learning that she is, in fact, not with child. Pretty fucking ironic, I tell ya.

And four days later, he we are, still in pain (but not as intense) and still bleeding like a horror flick victim.

I want to tell you all that I'm ok, but I can't, because I'm not. But I do appreciate the love and the thoughts and the visits and the cheesy YouTube clips. The simple act of compassion can make all the difference in the world. If only more people were like you guys.

Several hours before the emergency room, I'm at my best friend's house. As our men fall asleep on her couch we are laying on her bed like the younger versions of us used to many years ago. It is our first real conversation in a long while, and it is beautiful and painful and cathartic.

I didn't want to sound like a broken record, she told me. She, the best friend of 20 years who has listened to variations of songs in the key of heartbreak, angst and woe composed by yours truly.

We're all broken records ravaged by time, abuse, and neglect. To some I might be a well-worn copy of Bitches Brew. To others, a damaged Weird Al Yankovic b-side kept for nostalgia. Sometimes you need to break it out, run your fingers along the grooves and scratches and let the tears fall as you clutch it to your chest.

Bad metaphor? It's 3 a.m. and I'm hopped up on ibuprofen, so you'll have to forgive me.

The point is that pain will demand your attention and get it any way it can. Sometimes the message is subtle. Ofttimes, it's not. Nevertheless, heeding the call is important. Imperative, even. Because when you don't, it's only a matter of time before the slow-singin' and flower-bringin'.

Which brings me to...a pizzeria in Madison, Wisconsin, where I met a woman named Lori back in May.

The meeting had been a few years in the making, I suppose. It's not every day that you get a chance to meet the other other woman of your married ex-lover. [Ok, could that sentence be any MORE soap opera-y? Eeeik. "Married ex-lover"? Great. My life has now become a fucking Danielle Steele novel. Please shoot me now.]

Sorry. Anyway, the visit lasted a few hours. It was weird. Pleasant. A little cathartic, even.

To be honest, I doubted her pain. Her blues were not like mine. How could 18 months compare to SEVEN years, I told people.

And then I saw her face.

There is a moment when you can look at a person and see a reflection of everything you went through, of everything you saw and did not want to see. I saw the arguments, the emails, the instant messages. The declarations of love, the promises broken, the clandestine hotel sex, the image of him walking away. All there, etched in the angles of her smile, her eyes, entangled in the bitterness of her laugh.

And on the way home the next day, sitting in the backseat of a rental car with "Pretty Wings" blaring from my iPod, I unraveled. The weirdly intense Wiscon experience coupled with the meet had broken me.

I think what bothers me most, in post-meet conversations with a few trusted friends, is that I will never get an apology. Because at the base of whatever we had was supposed to be friendship. That after so many years he could walk away unaffected and unscathed...still hurts, several years later. That this situation still has an effect on how I handle relationships yet he continues on without even attempting to atone for the damage done, because he does not care. Those years of crying and sleepless nights did not mean anything then, and do not now.

And then the conversation turned to sociopathy.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the friendship, if only because that part seemed genuine. At least I want to believe it was. I want to believe that I did get the chance to see the real him, if only in brief glimpses.

But we are strangers now.

A few months ago when I stumbled upon his Twitter I considered forgiveness. Blame the nostalgia of the holidays. Even added him to my list. Ten seconds later, I took him off. I cannot force forgiveness on someone who is not interested in it, and I cannot make him care enough to seek it. And it is not up to me to extend the olive branch, anyway.

I've played "Pretty Wings" over and over and over because in my fevered imagination, it is the apology he will not make, the validation he cannot give.

I came wrong, you were right
Transformed your love in to a lie
Baby believe me I'm sorry I told you lies
I turned day in to night
Sleep till I die a thousand times
I should have shown you better nights better times better days
And I miss you more and more

...and I have to live with that, even if it isn't easy.

Oh look, the sun has arrived. I suppose I should lie down now.


Tanya D.
Fresh shit. tanyad at 2009-07-26 11:55 (UTC) (Link)
I love you... and when I see you I shall hug you. Sorry to hear the news, and again I love you. If you need or want anything give me a call. Or I'll call you later.

Fresh shit. emilytheslayer at 2009-07-26 12:59 (UTC) (Link)
Love you so hard.
(Deleted comment)
Take heed, 'cuz I'm a lyrical poet
Fresh shit. evilityhq at 2009-07-26 13:16 (UTC) (Link)
Take care of you, and take time to feel it. I'll hug you too next time I see you, for a very long time. xoxo
It's a Good Day
Fresh shit. recumbentgoat at 2009-07-26 15:49 (UTC) (Link)
Vince, Dude, Vman, Kid, Pimp, Vern, Toshiro
Fresh shit. dust_wind_dude at 2009-07-26 16:07 (UTC) (Link)
whatever little comfort it may be, hopefully your body will be ready to accept the next attempt at pregnancy, and you'll get a full nine to belly-rub and gender-guess and all the other little nuances.

You're a tough kid. Even the toughest have their challenges, but come through them a bit stronger.

I don't know much about Danielle Steele, but.....wait....wikipedia.....romance, drama......ok. Better Danielle Steele than Stephen King.
Fresh shit. argentla at 2009-07-26 16:15 (UTC) (Link)
Forgiveness doesn't mean reconciliation. Once somebody is out of your life, forgiveness is more about forgiving yourself, which is important. It doesn't have to involve interacting with that person ever again.
UR taste buds can't repel flavor of this magnitude
Fresh shit. sofvckinghot at 2009-07-26 21:56 (UTC) (Link)


Forgiveness isn't for them. Hell no, he doesn't deserve it.

Forgiveness is absolutely for YOU, casting aside the stuff that is still controlling you about the relationship.
A monstrous rambling
Fresh shit. bibliofile at 2009-07-27 00:59 (UTC) (Link)

Re: this

Yeah. Forgiving is what you to yourself and for yourself. It has very little to do with the other person.

Ah, what a crappy week indeed. Have a better one, some day...
filling spatial gaps with prime value
Fresh shit. amai_unmei at 2009-07-26 16:40 (UTC) (Link)
I'm sorry for your loss ... on both fronts. Now is the time to take care of yourself and let those around you take care of you. My best to you during this time, and into the future ...
Isabel S.
Fresh shit. izzybelbooks at 2009-07-26 17:33 (UTC) (Link)
Fresh shit. denim_queen at 2009-07-26 17:51 (UTC) (Link)
*adding to the hugs*
There had been churn-tampering involved
Fresh shit. i_dreamed_i_was at 2009-07-26 18:27 (UTC) (Link)
First of all, I'm so sorry for your loss. Anyone who says anything about how you felt before is an idiot-- it doesn't matter if you were childfree or if you wanted 18 kids. Your loss is your loss. *hugs*

I'm really proud of you for processing this stuff, for working on it. Because it's hard work, and it's self-care. Not to sound too hippy-dippy about it. Take care of yourself. And you let me know if there's someone in your life who's not taking care of you, because you've seen my booty-- I can sit on them. *more hugs*
Fresh shit. maschalismos at 2009-07-26 20:17 (UTC) (Link)
Take care of you and you are in my thoughts, girl.
The richest girl in town.
Fresh shit. fightingwords at 2009-07-26 21:09 (UTC) (Link)
Fresh shit. violachic at 2009-07-26 21:36 (UTC) (Link)
I'm really sorry, Jamie.
UR taste buds can't repel flavor of this magnitude
Fresh shit. sofvckinghot at 2009-07-26 21:54 (UTC) (Link)

I am very sorry

I cannot imagine. xoxo

And I hate that he is still a topic of thought and hurt for you.
cheveux sable with earworm rampant
Fresh shit. lcohen at 2009-07-26 22:40 (UTC) (Link)
well here i was thinking we should do dinner again as soon as my deadlines got less crazy, and now i think that we should get some sushi and we can talk about any old shit you want--this or definitely not this, as it suits you.

*hugs lots*
Fresh shit. verbalessence at 2009-07-26 23:54 (UTC) (Link)
so much you're dealing with. I just appreciate you sharing it and I wanted to send some love your way as you make it through all of it.
Fresh shit. kittylarock at 2009-07-27 00:30 (UTC) (Link)
adding to the chorus of hugs. take care of yourself girl.
Bellicose Lestrange
Fresh shit. mollyx at 2009-07-27 03:42 (UTC) (Link)

a bouquet of hugs

Oh, Jamie.
I had no idea.

My God, you have been through a fuck of a lot.
I'm out of words now.
(Deleted comment)
you can pay for school, but you can't buy class
Fresh shit. cjs1981 at 2009-07-27 13:14 (UTC) (Link)
I don't know what else to say but you're an incredibly strong woman made of strong stuff and you've got so many people behind you, things will get better. *HUGS*
Fresh shit. kate_nepveu at 2009-07-27 17:43 (UTC) (Link)
I'm very sorry for your losses.
beloved of monsters and women made free
Fresh shit. popelizbet at 2009-07-27 19:50 (UTC) (Link)
I love you, honey.
when silence becomes sound
Fresh shit. jst_us at 2009-07-28 03:28 (UTC) (Link)
from my heart to yours, i love u. u got all my hugs and all 'miyahs back rubs and shoulder pats. words can't express what u are going thru. know that u are so well and thoroughly loved and cared for. even if u just want to breath in my ear to pass the moments, my line is always open. ((((((((((((bigolehug)))))))))))))))
Where you lead...
Fresh shit. safa20 at 2009-07-28 21:28 (UTC) (Link)
I'm very sorry. Hugs
Fresh shit. soki at 2009-07-29 01:32 (UTC) (Link)
Sending you my hugs love.
A Recovering Sir Nose D'VoidofFunk
Fresh shit. amordien at 2009-08-06 06:21 (UTC) (Link)
I came to this late, but I wanted to say I'm sorry for your loss and you're in the prayers of the wife and myself. *hug*
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