He and I have had this discussion before, but he had no means to move out at the time so I dropped it. It's easier when only one person is unhappy, not both. It isn't easy telling Mr. Limbo something he doesn't want to hear. He cries, he yells, he guilts, God, does he guilt. And oh, the theatrics. He seems to have to have a certain stance when we fight. He leans forward with his arms outstretched as if he's catching a baby falling out of a burning building. He takes steps toward me, then, while he thinks of more to say starts to move toward the door, then comes back with more baby catching.
Last night he settled for the bathroom door. The only light in the room came from behind him and with my glasses off, I was really only battling a silhouette, a loud one. His voice would vacillate between booming executive and soft and pathetic through tears. Then, the guilt slinging began.
HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?
He understood my reasons (not wanting to live in Columbus, career limitations,etc.all of which he chalks up to me being selfish), knew he couldn't convince me of otherwise so he went for the jugular; his daughter. His sweet little 3 year old daughter that is completely in love with me. The sweet little girl that calls me her "Mommy Owl". "What am I supposed to tell her?" he sobs. I told him to tell her the truth, that sometimes people break up and they are going to live in a new place and all her toys will be there so not to worry. Keep in mind, she's 3.
After all was said and done. He told me that after he leaves that I need to forget him. I can't call, email, Facebook, etc. This was unexpected. We'll see if he means it. Having him in my life would be great, but if not, I suppose I have no choice.
So I guess I'll have to confide in this little blog. Lots of great sweeping change coming. Some good, some very painful. All of which necessary. Until next time, here's me:
Tomorrow, I'm going for the roof.
