How do I even begin to fit an entire week into a single entry….
The holidays were busy and tiresome for us, but it’s been good. Things have been better since Christmas. Things have been better since we’ve moved. I don’t know whether it’s because he’s stopped watching porn or he’s just been more accountable of his actions and decisions. But he has been more loving, more rationale, reasonable, more tolerable, more human. I’m starting to feel like I am actually in a mutual relationship and not one where I am giving continuously and being sucked dry without an afterthought.
Orlando was awkward but enjoyable. We spent our Christmas Eve dinner in a Fridays. $50 wasted! The food was awful and the waitress gave herself a larger tip than the 22% tip we had signed off on. I was pissed at first but it was only a couple dollars difference and she was working on Christmas so I let my anger slide. We went by his best friend Michele’s house for a bit. I have this secret fear that one day they will end up together. Maybe because I’ve wondered about it in my own spectrum of being…who really knows. And who really has control over that? Do I? Are my actions and expressions what determines that potentially undetermined outcome? I do like her though and her daughter is sweet. His family is nice but I feel I have nothing in common with them. I met his aunt for the first time and the look she gave me was as if I had greeted her half naked while swinging on a nicely greased pole. My first thought was didn’t she know I was white? But of course she did. That would have been the first thing out of anyone’s mouth when describing the mother of her nephew’s child. Who knows, I just tried to remain cordial with everyone the entire time. She thought Jashar was adorable….he is half of me of course, wouldn’t that make me equally as adorable…? Grandma got him some cute clothes and a toy that was way under his learning level. She gave us a $25 gift card to Publix. All the thoughts were nice. It did however just make me appreciate my parents even more. If it wasn’t for them we would have probably been in a shelter by now. If not living out of backpacks sleeping on various people’s floor space. They’ve allowed us time. And we still need more of it.
We drove back the following afternoon and made it to my mom’s before 8. We call my mom Bella. I came up with the name because it’s a derivative of “abuela” and she is half Sicilian. The moment I told her I was pregnant, the first thing out of her mouth was, “I’m not ready to be a fucking grandma!” So heed the day anyone labels her as such. She had way too many gifts for him, but I expected this, because I had picked them out. Race cars and puzzles and his own little broom and dust pan set. The child loves to sweep! The visit was short but sweet. Everyone was tired.
My dad’s was the following day and Josh begrudgingly attended lubricated by a small bottle of Jack and a tall solo cup of Mimosa. He remains cordial, but refuses to try to impress a fly. My dad had honey baked ham which is his favorite holiday staple, and he was making croissant sandwiches like he does every year. Josh didn’t eat a bite, highly out of character for him, telling me later that he refuses to eat their “racist croissants”. I told him that needs to go on a t-shirt. At first the visit was a disaster, every time Jashar touched anything they didn’t want him to or he tried to play with their two westies resulting in my dad or my stepmom telling him “no!” he would start screaming. This happened at least a dozen times within a 45 minute time span. My stepmom got him this Leggo train set that he loves and a scooter. I got another couple of purses I don’t know what to do with and some big crazy jewelry from Utah. And money thank god. $1500. This is what I wait on. This is what makes up for all of Josh’s deviance and dalliances. Of course it would make even more sense if it came from his parents…
Right when things were beginning to go well, my dad basically kicks us out, because Linda had to “feed the dogs”. Take a hint perhaps? I’m assuming she needed time and space to carve up a caribou and venture into the lion’s den hand feeding them piece by piece. A very hard pressed labor of a strategic, consuming, and mentally incapacitating nature no doubt.
The next day was yet another family filled adventure at my Aunt’s house. My cousins were there. Both are at least 7 years younger than me who live in large houses bought for them by their husband’s and now fiance’s parents. My one cousin’s husband greets me with, “Have things gotten any better for you guys?” and I felt my eye twitch as I wondered what details of our lives is he specifically referring to. In other words, what sympathetic shit has everyone been talking about behind our backs and our “pathetic situation” that we live in. I, of course, bit my tongue like I always do and told him yes, Jashar is starting to sleep better…. The one thing I can say is wherever we go from here, I will be able to survive in anything. To be given a 3+ bedroom house from the start,how could you ever form an untainted view of appreciation for anything less or more. My aunt also got him way too many toys. One would have been fine. And several sweater and sweat suit sets that we can squash into that one blistering 24 hour turn over. That bastard of a devastating Florida winter. Josh over ate and over drank. He said he was going for internal explosion.
The following day was his birthday. My friend Alana watched Jashar while we went to dinner and back to our place to have sex without a child present. She had offered earlier that day and I graciously accepted! Spur of the moment acts of kindness like that you have to accept open-heartedly because they don’t come around too often! For us at least. We had a nice time. He told me how sexy I looked that night and how his new nickname for me is Foxx. The sex was great. It was on our bed! I miss that. How funny that sounds. I miss being uninhibited! I miss feeling unafraid of waking a light sleeping toddler! For the rest of the week, Josh stayed home for the most part, but did manage to blow the $200 he had collected from my family. I’m sure some of it found its way to bar tab or two. No late nights though. One step forward, one step back, one step forward. We had nice evenings together. A few nights before New Years Josh and I laid in bed, and I let him open up to me. Say all the things I wanted to hear. The reasons he has been the way he is. The history behind why he’s acted the way he’s acted. The promises he wishes and is going to keep. Tears came to my eyes at points. I know I’ve heard a lot of it before, but it seems to be sounding more sincere as of late. Maybe because he is beginning to follow through on what he says. Or maybe I’m still just a fool.
He told me he noticed when I took the different birth control, my vagina had more of an intoxicating aroma. The estrogen. But he understands it’s because of Jashar that I take the other and he loves me for that. The jury is still out for me on what I want to do with that. I’m beginning to experience the lower abdominal cramping and pain again. Even my exterior vagina hurts. It fucking sucks. All because I want my child to receive what little milk and immunity there is for me to produce. I feel I’m sacrificing my own health, and vanity, and enjoyment. We’ve continued to have sex, and I enjoy it but not like I use to. I long to feel that electricity again. That feeling of being transported to a higher state of being. That surge of adrenaline and serotonin, an overabundance of passion, love, and satisfaction. I feel that it will return despite those moments where I fear it won’t. I just have to make that decision to catalyze it. I know I’ve still got great sex ahead of me. I know it’s still in my future. It has to be. That’s what I had lived for.
We stayed in New Years’s Eve. It was nice. Steaks and a movie. We even had sex exactly at midnight. Muffled of course, as not to wake Jashar. A way to bring in 2016. The following night, the first of the year, was our real New Year’s…