These Tears

I definitely notice a difference in my emotional state when I have worked too much.

I may still feel like I can keep working, but my spirit takes a hit. My emotions get close to the surface and I feel very melancholy.

I am melancholy today.

I wiped away tears several times this morning. Once because a song made me feel sad and alone, once because a song made me sad to think about my daughter growing up, once because a song reminded me of Jeff and how I loved him - and how he really isn't the man I loved and once because I thought of Brad.

Today is or would be our 11th anniversary.

Brad declined my dinner invite. He had other plans. I jogged his memory about the date and he pretty much just skirted the topic.

If this were a movie, I know how it would play out. This would be the point in the film where our tragic leading lady carries on, lost, sad and alone only to have him show up and surprise her with a dramatic gesture of love. She would throw herself into his arms and know that she was back where she had always belonged. Soft, lifting music would swell and fill the theater.

But this isn't a movie. And even I have to acknowledge the unanswered questions. Could they really make it work again? His life is very much centered on his friends and family - all of whom view me with the same disdain now that my friends and family view Jeff. Could I live with the man who will never have ambitions beyond his evening martini? A guy who has no career goals, no drive to be successful, no sense of responsibility when it comes to bills, money or everyday things like a clean house, a kept appointment or an oil change? This is the man who drove a used and beat-up car around for 2 years with a 2 YEAR EXPIRED tag because he didn't have the time or money to get insurance.

Ironically, we stood a better chance if we had met post-Jeff. Brad knew how to treat me. He knew how to make me laugh, smile or feel loved. He was honest and open with me (with a 6 month exception...) and he always had my best interests at heart.

So, as much as I wish today could find him on my doorstep with a rose and a promise - would it work?

Probably not.

When I left Brad for Jeff in November 2005, Brad moved into his parents home. He is still there. Nothing has changed. He has no plans to look for a place, has no money saved up for a place and spends his paycheck leftovers on beer, partying and dvds.

When I left Jeff in November 2006 (that's just not my month, is it?), I moved into my step-father's home, took a 2nd job and busted my ass to change my life. In 4 months I lost 35 lbs, earned the money to pay off a legal judgement and move into a place of my own.

So - in a sense, no...we are not compatible. If he changed - if he became driven, applied himself to achieving anything at all I would be on my knees begging him for another chance.

As much as I think I might still love him - I can not be his mother again. I can not chase him to remind him that it's wrong to climb through stopped trains on the tracks with my small child, or that the neighbors don't appreciate his cavalier views on leash laws and don't appreciate the heart failure that they suffer when our 95 lb labrador charges them (they don't get that he's happy to meet them and suspect they are about to be lunch) and I can not babysit him and still be my own person.

So I won't be showing up on his doorstep with a rose and a promise either - but it does sadden me. I may buy that rose just the same...I think late tonight, after Taylor has gone to bed, I will go lay it on the steps on the church we were married in 11 years ago. Just to be really poetic I will do it at 11 pm.

I know there are bloggers who see my blog as a rather longwinded epic novel and I've received emails from those who keep hoping for a happy ending that finds Brad and I together again. I hate to disappoint, but I don't think it's going to ever end that way.

I am alone and I feel like I probably always will be.

I tried on a dress today. I bought it about 5 years ago in a consignment shop. It was a stunningly fitted wine colored satin gown the clings and falls floor length in a scallopped and gathered hem. It was $10 - never worn - and marked down from an original $200. It was also 6 sizes too small but I bought it anyway.

I used to dream about fitting into it. I dreamt about wearing it to a gala and being the most beautiful woman there with satin hugging my slim curves.

I tried it on this morning. For the first time, it fit perfectly. Just as I imagined it might someday - it is fitted like a second skin and hugs my curves. The strapless bodice and the sleek lines are beautiful.

It doesn't matter. I once thought if I were slim and beautiful I would be happy.

Here I am. Slim and alone on my 11th wedding anniversary expecting that I will spend my life that way. Loving men that I can never be with.

Yes, I will have a place to live and I will be able to wear clothes I once only dreamt of fitting into. But I will also still be alone.

Alone isn't so bad.

It's being lonely that hurts.

Where's the person who can't wait to see me? The one who calls at lunch just to hear my voice? the one who is soothed by my touch and in turn soothes with his kisses? The one who will rub my shoulders when they ache or hug me when I am sad? The one to tell me he's proud of me and how hard I've worked?

Where's the person to tell me that everything will be alright?

I no longer fret over a fat ass, but instead I cringe at new lines that are just beginning to appear on my face or that tiny silver hair I found last month. I'm getting old and I am alone.

It's really quite a melancholy day.