Me & Mine

 

Back in 2005 (between Hurricanes Katrina and Rita), I got married to someone I thought was wonderful, M.  M. is a Yankee straight from Long Island, NY, and I’m a born-and-bred Southerner (born in Paintsville, KY and raised in Central Louisiana).  M. decided he couldn’t take anymore time in Iraq; so we left the Army life after only 18 mos. (he spent the first year of our marriage on his second tour of duty there).  So what’s a gal to do?  I moved us into free housing:  a ghetto trailer next door to my Mom, my sister (Tina) and my brothers (Davis and Willie).  We were going to live life as intended complete with a garden and yard of our own and with no one telling us what not to paint!  M.’s occasionally attempted to adjust to life in the country.  We both went to school, and I have my Master’s in Psychology and am working on my Doctorate while M. worked on getting a degree in Electronics Technology.  All the while, we’re living next door to my family (just like Everybody Loves Raymond) and trying to start a family of our own while trying to raise our adorable, rambunctious, miniature poodle, Pascal.

 

Somewhere along the way, it’s all went horribly wrong.  In the summer of 2007 (just before our 2^nd anniversary), I discovered M. cheating online (despite having phenomenal sex at home…seriously, he’s told me many times that I outdid the German hookers he paid for while stationed there).  He claimed he was just looking and was curious, but I fell apart.  The first thing that came to my mind was “that’s why we haven’t been able to get pregnant.”  Months of trying to put it back together made what I thought was a huge difference.  I was wrong.  As our marriage came back together, we upped the ante on getting pregnant including buying Clomid from a Mexican pharmacy.  M. wasn’t really involved much.  He didn’t ask any questions and only seemed to care about when we would have baby making sex.  One night, after another failed month, I was crying and talking about how we would be able to try IUI soon.  M. pulled away and told me I was on my own; he would screw me but that’s as far as he would go.  I walked around for weeks in shock and going through the motions.  Then everything changed.  I missed my period, and Hurricanes Ike and Gustav hit sending M. to New Orleans for a few weeks.  I was happy though.  Only a day after M. returned, I got my period.  I’d lost again.  This time he reacted with total disregard for my pain, and after days of torment, I finally got it through my head that he just didn’t care.  The signs were there for at least a year, but I kept excusing his behavior.  Finally, I confronted him, and he admitted that he wouldn’t have married me if he’d waited until he came back from Iraq.  That was it for M. and I.  Due to financial reasons, we shared the ghetto trailer for far too long.  It was like pulling teeth to get rid of him, but I finally succeeded thanks to my sister.  

 

Also, thanks to my sister, I got a job as a personal care attendant to a quadriplegic.  I’ve worked for Brian for over a year now, and I can’t imagine life without him.  Although, sometimes I try.   

  

In those final couple of weeks, I was surprised with an email from Joe, a man which I had loved desperately.  Joe was married when I met him, but I didn’t find that out until I was in love with him.  I gave him some time, but eventually, I came to be unable to look at my own face in the mirror.  I had no choice but to end it despite the heartache it caused both of us.  I gave up all hope of love, of a home with a man I loved, everything.  It took years before M. came into my life and said all the right things to change that.  Joe had come back with divorce papers in hand, and he saying he wanted to try again.  Heck, I let him try and it just sort of went the way most of Joe’s relationships do.  It’s never really over, but it may as well be.

 

Then in mid-December of 2008 I met a fella online.  Well, I’d met quite a few fella’s online (it’s all documented under the This is starting over? category), and I was having a good time sorting through the good, the bad, and the Smeagol’s of it all.  This fella was different though.  For a start, he had 5 kids age 2 to 15 (Indie, 2; Blondie, 5; Savvy, 8; Martian, 13; Bell, 15) and an ex-wife, Mull.  If that didn’t sweeten the pot enough, he was also recovering from a brain tumor.    In short, Paladin was just my type.  Ever since, we’ve been moving back into his home and taking care of everything and everyone around.  We even moved in Brian (aka the Boss) after the death of his stepfather and it looks like Brian’s brother Manjina is settling in for a long winter’s nap as well.  We’ve had battles over the kids with Mull.  And in the last few months, my chronically ill mother has taken a turn for the worst. 

 

Don’t worry.  I’m sure it only get’s uglier and more complicated from here!  Join the madness…

 

 

 

Pascal