Two Down, One To Go

Mr. J told his children last night that I was going to be moving in.

And it did not go as he thought it would.

He sat the two of them down, and said, “so, I have something I want to talk to you about….”

And then The Daughter interrupted and said, “Anonymous is moving in?”

Yeah, they saw it coming.

Mr. J admitted to me today that he had been worried for nothing. Both of them seemed to take it in stride.

No questions. No comments. They were much more interested in getting back to the new iPhone and to Netflix.

And I think it really surprised Mr. J.

He said that he was worried for nothing. Their reaction was actually a non-reaction; and I think the fact that we had gone to the cottage together really helped. They already were used to thinking we were a unit; in fact, The Son actually said at one point that I was an “honorary GXXXXXX”.

I don’t think there could be a higher honor, and I would be very proud to be a GXXXXXX, honorary or not.

Next up will be telling The Ex. And I really hope that Mr. J gets the same reaction from her as he did from the children.

But somehow? I doubt that.

Even though it pains me, I have to trust that Mr. J will not let her reaction, whatever it may be, affect him.

Because I guarantee you, there will be a reaction. Either sad, ‘poor me, you are moving on’ reaction, or slightly angry, indignant reaction.

And between you and me, I am hoping for the angry reaction. Then maybe she will grow up, get her shit out of his basement once and for all. Because I really don’t care for the thought of my shit co-mingling in the basement with her shit. (Even if hers was there first)

I just have to hope that it happens on one of his good days, because Mr J. hasn’t really been himself lately. I believe he is still suffering from the after effects of his concussion. He’s been headachy, foggy, and not always able to carry on a conversation. He has his good days, and his not-so-good days.

And it scares the crap out of me.

It’s been a test, for sure. It’s taken everything for me to be rational, and to not take things personally. To realize that if he doesn’t say or do or act the way I think or expect him to… that it isn’t personal. He’s just… not himself.

But the scary thing is that he might not recover from this, and this new persona might actually be … himself. Maybe he will never be the way he was when we were first dating, before his concussion.

This might be our new normal.

But so long as the communication stays open – and the fear stays at bay – I think we can handle it.

Because he is worth it.


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