Ok, I rarely rant. Maybe a little more lately because my “give a fuck” about people’s feelings seems to be broken, but buckle up because it’s a comin’.
About a year ago, my eldest son’s dad came to stay with me. He came with his girlfriend. Yes, I am the kind of person who will let their ex husband move in and even give him and his girl her bed and sleep on the couch. Not for recognition. Not even for help with the bills. Just because sometimes people need a hand to get where they need to be and I don’t have much but I’ve usually got a hand to give. So ex-hubby had a job. Girlfriend didn’t have one. No big deal. Well, within a week, ex-hubby ended up getting in trouble and going to jail over a parole violation three years ago. Girlfriend was still staying with me. She stayed for almost a month, but she refused to get a job. I would come home from working 12 to 14 hours a day and her ass would still be on my couch watching TV. Granted, it is an awesome TV, but damn, I barely had enough time to watch it. So I take her down the block to grab a job application at ALDI, the grocery store. It’s literally three blocks from the house. So she gets the app and is going to fill it out. For the next week, every day I get home from work, I ask her if she took the application back.
“No, hun, I’m waiting for my friend to come take me.”
What in the actual fuck? Three blocks. I swear, I felt what every husband feels when he accidentally marries a gold digger and then his company starts to go bankrupt. Except, I’m no husband. So I’m politely like, “you’re gonna have to get the fuck out of my house.”
I’ve worked since I was 17. My grown children couldn’t even stay after they turned 18 without a job. So she left. Then I see on her Facebook that their dog, who had been staying with someone, got stabbed in the head by someone who was watching her. So, of course, I’m like, “bring the dog here.”
So I met the people who had Asia, the dog. Not the ones who stabbed her, but the ones who got her after she got stabbed and could only keep her for a few days. I met them and got the dog. She is like 11 years old. Ex hubby has had her since she was 6 weeks, but he hasn’t had her the whole time, because he has been in and out of jail, so girlfriend has had her. Either way, between the two of them, she’s usually been with one or the other (I think, now I’m not so sure).
So I end up keeping Asia for about six months, maybe nine, while ex hubby is locked up. I don’t talk to girlfriend any more because, well, I just don’t for lack of nice words. Ex hubby gets out and eventually comes to get his dog. Ex hubby and I have gotten along rather well over the years considering the circumstances of our relationship. Finally, after 9 months, I’m back down to two dogs…mine.
Then I take that little trip to Florida. About three days before I get back, I talk to ex hubby who is again having a time of it and needs a place to stay because he has the dog and can’t seem to find anything dog friendly. I think he can’t find anything girlfriend friendly, but I keep my opinion to myself. So I tell him, “you can stay at the house for a couple days, and the dog can stay, but the girlfriend can’t stay.” Because I’ve already burned that bridge with her.
I get home from Florida three days later. Ex hubby is nowhere to be found. The dog is still at my house chilling. And there are a few bags of girlfriend and ex hubby’s clothes in my house.
I didn’t throw them away immediately. I gave ex hubby time to come get his stuff and his dog. He didn’t. I called. He didn’t answer. I messaged. He didn’t answer. A nice person can only be nice for so long. Finally, I get a message from ex hubby’s facebook page from girlfriend. She wants to know if her clothes are here because she brought them here while ex hubby was here because she didn’t have anywhere to put them.
And then I turned into this person I am not usually.
All fucks to give, gone.
I’m like, “you’re a piece of shit. Your shit’s not here. Your dog is mine. There’s nothing else to talk about.”
Then I gathered up the bags of their stuff and threw them in the garbage. I told dog she is going to just stay with me until she dies. And I went to bed. Issues resolved.
And I felt so much better for it. I mean if that’s the worst thing I did to them after she broke up our marriage twenty years ago (yes, she was the mistress) then I don’t think I did anything all that bad anyway. Plus, it wasn’t a real marriage, but still, feelings were hurt and they were all mine. But instead of trying to force them to be responsible and force myself to continue to be nice, I just did what felt good instead. And I’m trying really hard not to feel bad about it.