Ex husband

Sky’s above

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Up here in this moment all is calm. Pastel blue sky’s as far as the eye can see. The only mark on this vast mass of Mother Nature at her best are the mallow clouds backlight by the early spring sun. 

I can breath. Up here away from it all I can relax take a moment to just sit. Not to think. Not worry. Not fret. None of it matters, not up here. 

But soon I will be on the ground again. And the troubles will return. My inner turmoil will rise up once more like soldiers on the front line ready for the next phase of battle to commence. Always alert, always on guard. 

For some time I have said that I know he won’t let me get away with beating him in the divorce; that this war was far from over.  I may just be about to deal him his next hand.

My boo and I are en route to our beloved Germany. And although I’m hugely, overwhelmingly excited to see my friends, to date my beautiful city of Nuremberg, to be alone in this familiar space. I am petrified to my core. 

My last contact with him (via the lawyers) resulted in another round of threats against me. Threats from him to take Legal action against me in some vain attempt to scare me, to make me the bad guy, to justify his own behaviour.  No basis, no reason, no provocation or cause just because he can and he has before.  And it worked then. Why wouldn’t he try again?  Now he has no control nor has he had any reaction from me and he just can’t stand it. He will do all he can to cause me pain to make his own feel less isolated, he knows no different. 

I try where I can, up here to empty my mind if these thoughts.  It’s impossible. As we fly closer and closer to our destination my pulse starts to gain pace. The anticipation of passport control, the how do I protect my son from seeing this happen, the embarrassment of being hauled away by the German airport police for some crime I never committed- I’ll spend months and thousands of euros to fight nothing more than an outlandish allegation, well it literally brings my heart out of my chest – bile boiling up in my throat. 

So why am I going? Feeling like this why on earth would I do this to myself?  

My boo needs this. Deserves this. So do I. We were forced out of a life we loved, a life we created. Gone forever through no fault of our own, and I need to claim it back for him.  

Secondly I refuse to let this fear hold me back. If that’s what happens it happens. I have no control. But neither will he. He will take joy, pleasure no doubt that his latest plan worked but he will see that no matter what he does I will stand back up again. It may take a while but I will.

I have to show him that I won’t continue to live in the shadows of his darkness. I won’t allow him to cast his depression over me, his grief and his pain is his to keep and I refuse to allow him to inflict it upon me.

Yet here I am writing this. With no plan to actually post until we are safely back in Great Bretannia- just in case! 

Well maybe I’m not that brave… Or possibly I’m just being sensible… Yes that’s it. I’ll go and enjoy myself safe in knowledge that he has no clue.. Simply I’m not going to kick the hornets nest. 

Written in the sky’s above on March 18th on the way to Munich. Posted upon return on Sunday 20th

 

Gifts from “Daddy”

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Christmas gifts

Another Christmas Day, come and gone.

A full year of moments, dates, special occasions passed as a single mother. It’s been 15 months now. I’ve gone through the full cycle, and I feel like I’ve finally hit my stride. Of course there are still some fleeting thoughts of what if’s, why me, how did this happen but they are few and far between. For the most part I’m either too busy with the necessitates of life or creating memories with my boys. Memories like yesterday. My first Christmas dinner as the hostess with the mostest again.

11 of my family descended upon me to devour a feast prepared by my own fair hands. These are the moments that matter. That said, the festive day did have a dark cloud of his size and shape looming over it. I tried my best to blow it away and to a large degree I did, but this morning it’s back, darker and gloomier than before.

The day before Christmas Eve my mum gave me a box, the front decorated with his child like scrawl, addressed to my boys. Some might say this is progress. He’s sending gifts (he didn’t even bother with a text last year) but I see it differently. I see her. His new cover story.

Albert received a big toy; dancing animals, flashing lights and songs sung in German. Oliver a book. The diary of a wimpy kid. And that right there is the point. He would have noticed the toy sung in German, her being German wouldn’t. He would have known that yes, Oliver liked (focus on past tense) the wimpy kid series… When he was 9!!! She again would not.

It makes me so angry. Sick in fact. It also makes me very curious as to what exactly he has told her about why he isn’t seeing the boys. My guess is I’m the bad guy, I’m unreasonable, I cut contact, I won’t let him see them…either way she is oblivious to the truth. In addition how can I keep gifts in my home that have been touched by her filthy home wrecking hands?

So what to do?

I could give them to his mum when I see her after Christmas (yes we’ve been in touch, but that’s a story for another post), I could send them back to him with a spiteful bitter note telling him if he wants to show he cares he should get off his hustler ass and buy them himself or not bother at all. Or I could send them to her, with a gift in return… A gift of the truth. Not my truth HER truth.

You see she thinks she’s the cat that got the cream; the handsome Man, the successful provider, the hero who showers her with praise, gifts and compliments all the while playing away like the filthy sewer rat he is. And she, the poor cow, has no clue. She sits smugly picking out gifts for my kids like she’s fucking Mother Teresa. Her pathetic attempts to help him smooth the way over what ever lie he’s fed her. If it wasn’t so pitiful it would be hysterical.

He is here in the UK. I don’t know, nor care if she’s here. But I know he is. He flashed up on my tinder profile on the 23rd only 29km away. Even at Christmas he can’t just enjoy friends and family, he just has to find a local squeeze. Even funnier he is using old photos, pictures taken whilst with me. On one he actually cut me out of the pictures… Cheeky so and so. It’s truly very sad.

Back to the question in hand… What should I do?

I really have no idea what the best option is, but I do know we will not be keeping these gifts sitting here with them in our home turns my stomach. So I simply cannot sit and watch my beautiful boys with these items when all I see is her…does that make me a terrible person? Putting my own bitterness ahead of my children’s enjoyment of a couple of stupid toys?!

What would you do, I’d love to hear?!