November 27, 2012
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oddly enough…
He goes back and forth with me via email. Grumbling at first, then docile. On the holiday, as I cook with the kids, enjoy dinner, play video and board games…he drops a note in my box, “Happy Thanksgiving! Hope you and the kids are having fun! I love you _____”.
I don’t see it until the next day. He’s shot texts to me, asking if we can meet. I’m busy with my kids.
The next note in my box is angry, accusatory….nasty. It’s out of line. My eyes narrow, but I resist the urge to reply. I lay in wait with narrowed eyes. Devil me leans in to scrutinize the note, narrowing her eyes in disgust.
“He’s weak. He’s upset that you didn’t acknowledge his declaration of love. Where the fuck did that come from?” she rolls her eyes. I nod, “No shit.”
Then I begin to type my response, chilly and terse, coldly professional. I detail what I won’t tolerate…his jealously and suspicion that I’m dating other men, his suspicion that I’m romantically involved with my ex husband, his remarks that imply that I’m a neglectful mother….I draw the boundaries and state the conditions, either we talk about and work on those behaviors that annoy us so that we’re on speaking terms longer than a few days a month, or we shake hands and part ways. I leave it at that.
Devil me groans, “I thought you were done with the games.”
“This isn’t a game,” I say evenly. It’s not. I’m not trying to back him into a corner so he’ll do what I want. I’ve given him a choice. I’m prepared to go forward with either. As I scroll up the screen so that I can log out, the chat box lights up. I raise my eyebrows, “Although I was prepared to let him sleep on it.”
