Outta Here!

I've got three new houses to look at, well away from the minds of Somerset. I want out and to be well away from here.

It will be all good. A fresh start will be just lovely for the children and I.

Yet More

I really ought to have just been a nun. I was going to say a nun or a lesbian but carpet munching could never be for me.

I'm so sick of all this shit. It's totally unfair that I lose my friends and am painted as the arsehole because I've found happiness with someone so soon after scumbag.

Déjà Vous

It's so very disappointing when people forget the reasons behind the end of a marriage. Once again, a cheating scumbag of a husband causes me to lose friends. Yes, he cries louder and grabs the "Oh woe is me" vote by declaring loudly and openly how awful he's feeling and how sorry he is and how he just wants to go kill himself, blah, blahdy, blah. Let us forget that he hurt our family by having however much he had (can you believe the words of a liar about it going no further than many chaste kisses???) of that polish skank whore. I loved him and was faithful to him and was true to our marriage vowels. He, however, behaved like a horrid little prick and continues to do so. He's sent a delightful torrent of abuse, even from Turkey! It really pisses me off. Heaven forbid I should seek happiness elsewhere. Am I supposed to stay in a dead end marriage? I'm not one of those people that can gloss over him being a lying cheat and carry on as normal, but yes. Oh, poor, poor him. Let us pander to the poor wounded man.

Grrrrrr!!! I'm so very, very cross.

And disappointed.

And quite hurt and offended. It's such an injustice, I feel. Not bloody fair!

Gorgeous

There's something gorgeous fast asleep on my sofa. I've had to drag myself away from looking at him. He doesn't sleep enough so I'm not going to wake him. He makes me feel so very loved.

Now What?

So, what is going on? Hmm. He's is Turkey on holiday with his parents. He called the other day and LissyBean told him, "Mummy's got Man now". (She obviously didn't call him Man, but that's his pseudonym). The shit then hit the fan. He called me on my mobile (I have back to back aerobic classes on a Tuesday). He called me all sorts of nasty names. Had he called the night before, as arranged, I would have told him about Man myself. He says he's not coming back from Turkey but I suspect this is yet more bullshit. He never really was very good at being honest.

Here's the thing with Man (oh my gosh, nothing is ever just simple, is it? - am I never content?!); He's often quite busy. Hence yesterday, instead of milling about in my new found cosy coupledom, I was stuck at home, alone with the children, bored, lonely and miserable. He's often unavailable. Busy of an evening. He'll come round after dark, like a vampire and stay. I know he's not just in it for the whole shagging side of things but I miss... Miss what? The fact that here was where he belonged. He was here when he wasn't at work. It was us. An 'us' and a 'the rest of the World'. Now it's just a me. A me that has a boyfriend that comes round sometimes. I'm not part of a unit any more. Also, at nearly thirty, am I not a little too old to have a boyfriend? It does feel a little bit silly.

...Oh, it's that single stick thing from years ago!!!

Sunday Blues

I really miss my family today. Being a family unit, I mean. Sunday's are lonely as a single mum. We used to just mill about and be cosy. I'd cook a roast, he'd play with the children. What is the point in cooking a roast just for us? I can't be arsed. WonderBoy has made himself and the children a roll and I mostly just can't be bothered to eat.

I hope these feelings are just PMT related and pass quickly.

Contentment

The crappy phase has moved on, thank goodness. It may put in another appearance, who knows? For now, I'm perfectly content.

It's a beautiful day so I think I'll go out on my bike. Again.

Ouch, By The Way

I got drunk on red wine earlier and my head really hurts.

Bolting

I'm staying at my ex sister in law's cottage. OtherMan came here. My brother sent me a really nasty message. I just want it to be daylight. I want to bolt. I want to run away from here too. Where is far enough? Is it myself I'm trying to run away from? I think I'm a bit fu@ked up at the moment. My mum's had to use up the last two days of her holiday from work to take care of my children. Yesterday I cried all day. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm a total mess. The only time I feel normal is when I'm with OtherMan but now that feels wrong too, following the text from my brother telling me to get him and I away from his daughter.

Where is far enough?

I just want to be me again.

Hibernation Please

All I want to do today is hide in my bed.

What I'd really, really like to do is run away but I have no where to run to. I'm thinking that moving away from this town might be the right way forward.

There's been another man on the scene recently. He is also very recently seperated from his wife. Husband (what do I call him now???) asked me yesterday if I wanted OtherMan and I told him yes. Husband was destroyed. He was suicidal. I so desperately want to know how he's doing today but I, firstly, know that contacting him would just cause him more upset and, secondly, suspect I have no right to ask anymore.

By having feelings for OtherMan I seem to have become the villan of the piece. Husband's pain is so very visible it's hard to see anything past that. I'm having a hard time of thinking about anything other than his pain too. I just want him to be okay again.

I feel like a total harlot having feelings for OtherMan so soon after this mess but I can't help them. He's so very loving and makes me feel in one piece.

Everything Husband says he wants he had and gambled with. I just can't get past that. I trusted him and he threw it away. I can't feel angry with him at the moment though. He is finding living with his mistake unbearable.

I feel like an empty shell today.

No Idea

I just do not know which way to jump. Do I give my marriage another try? I'm just not so sure I can forgive him for his gamble. Also, whilst I do still love him, very much, I'm not so sure I'm in love with him any more. Shouldn't I know the answer to that? I fear he may have stamped it out of me when he stuck his tongue down the Polish skank's mouth.

We viewed a house this morning. It was lovely. I think it could be cosy all living there together. But. Lots and lots of buts.

He just doesn't give me any space to breathe. He's constantly calling, texting or popping in. I told him earlier that I thought we ought to give this new house and all that comes with it, fresh start, etc, another go. He then texts me and asks me if he can move back in. He's always pushing.

When I first threw him out and he said he'd forever try to make things up to me, I told him there's no way he'd have the stamina. Stamina isn't constant pushing and badgering.

Oh for goodness sakes. I'm being descended upon by children. That's the end of my five minutes thinking time!

I Have No Idea What I Am Doing

I don't mean right at this moment. Right now, I'm writing crap. I mean, in general.

Yes, the weekend. So, I was mooching about town on Saturday when there was a slight commotion across the street. I saw some people pulling a guy up from the floor, covered in blood. The people were just standing about asking him if he was okay, looking a bit muffled. Surely they could see the blood, no? It was pouring down his face. I crossed the road and took him a packet of tissues and got a closer look. I suggested he might need stitches in them and that we wander round to the doctors surgery for them to have a quick squizz, chattering away as I guided him and his dog round there. Closed. Bloody countryside, everything shuts at midday here. Rang out of hours doctor who said I needed to call an ambulance. The guy was a bit odd really. A few sandwiches short of a picnic, maybe. I suspected he was a long time drunk. My children loved seeing the ambulance come roaring down the road with the sirens on and lights flashing. Off the man went, leaving me on the side of the road with his dog and a key to his house that I had absolutely no idea as to the location of. I managed to get his dog back home (there was a huge tankard of wine on the coffee table, along side a massive bottle, still wrapped in its supermarket bag. I dropped his key back off to him at the hospital, where he sat silently, waiting to be mended, like it was an every day occurrence. How does it get to that? I wonder why he drinks so much. I wonder where his family are. He is sixty one, but where is everyone? It's sad.

I went out on Saturday night with friends. Was totally pissed as a fart after two glasses of wine and ready to go home. VeryLovelyNeighbour was absolutely hammered and wouldn't allow it. About an hour later, having moved on to another pub, the AntiWeeble helped me escape out of a side door, under the pretence of popping off for a wee. I hurried down the road, putting as much distance between me and the pub until I slowed my pace as I was almost home, enjoying the night air and the quietness. I heard someone further up the road behind me and turned to look to find VeryLovelyNeighbour haring down the road, with no shoes on, having run all the way from the pub. She rugby tackled me into the middle of the road and said I absolutely could not go home (I was clinging from the rails of a building at one point, insisting it was my home time) and had to come back to the pub until at least 2am. Having knackered my elbow in the fall, I was buggered if I was going to refuse. She was swearing like a trooper at me and she NEVER swears. Her intention was lovely. She knew I'd be feeling a bit poop that day and, in her drunken manner, thought I'd be going home alone to be miserable (where as in actual fact, my bed was screaming out for me). She remembers almost nothing of that night and we all had a lovely time regaling her of the night's stories last night at the gym. She really was very funny.

Oh, and here's the praying mantis AntiWeeble:


Some guy at her work did it. I'm thinking they have a teensy bit too much time on their hands. Made me chuckle though.

There's not much else I can update about at the moment. It's all too private for here. I really do have absolutely no bloody idea what I'm doing at the moment though. My head is a very crowded place to be right now.

Updating

Lots has happened lately.

I've had a hangover all day today. I drank about three glasses of wine last night. It's ridiculous how easy I get drunk these days. Long gone are the days of shots of tequillas, followed by mixing red and blue Aftershock to "make a pretty purple colour". Am I getting too old for this?

I started this post two hours ago but have been distracted and have totally lost my train of thought.

Very quick update now, will finish tomorrow. There was a man pouring with blood and a dog, an injured elbow after being rugby tackled, the AntiWeeble being a praying mantis and peas in the pod.

Angry

How can he have the audacity to send the barrage of messages, begging for my forgiveness and for his family back? I'm so very angry and frustrated.

Awake

I haven't shed a single tear over him but I really can't sleep. Maybe it's shock or something. I just want a cigarette.

I lay there, in the dark, just thinking about what an arsehole he is. How could he cheat on his family? How he take that gamble? How does anyone? I truly never could.

Doesn't the truth always come out in the end?

I'm going to be twice divorced before I'm thirty. Oh my goodness. What does that say about me?

I had to get his Dad to come and collect him. He was a crumpled, crying heap on the floor. It was either his Dad get him out of my house or call my brother, who would probably have beaten him to the scummy little pulp he deserves. Before I called his Dad, I took him upstairs and showed him the babies asleep in their beds, eyes closed and sleeping peacefully, totally oblivious that their Daddy has torn their family apart. "You lose", I said to him as he looked at them, before bringing him back downstairs and showing him the door.

Un-Fucking Believable

So, remember my post a few weeks ago about Husband (now to be known as CheatingScummerHusband) got all eggy about a few texts that were nothing other than a guy telling me I was fit, there abouts. Well, as you may have already guessed, he was being a lying, cheating, sly, nasty, dirty, sordid, hypocritical, slimey, little two faced scummy piece of shit.

The dirty little twat has been carrying on with some girl at his work. For fucks sake.

Windy Tonight

I've just got back from the pub, a little bit drunk.

It's just my father in law and I at home and I really, really need to fart. Bad etiquette to do so, I feel.