I held off on posting for a few days, and was actually about to publish this post on Friday, but then I read about the school shooting and thought that it was kind of inapporopriate to publish another one of my dum-dum stories on the same day as something so immeasurably terrible. I'm alive, I am healthy, and that is all that matters. I went out to dinner with my favorite aunt and uncle, and I hate to sound cliched, but I felt truly thankful, and not just because they paid. I have so much, and even though I give myself a lot of shit, I didn't start this blog to complain about how terrible this divorce is. I started it, and continue it, as a tool for figuring things out. I don't have many things to complain about, really, but I still have a few things to figure out, so I decided to publish this post, held over from Friday, and I hope it is free of whininess. Enjoy another one of my dum-dum stories.
Another week, and another "meaningful" conversation with Gino has taken place. This has become the thing that we do in place of having weird, unmarried sex with each other. I go to the house, bust his balls about one thing or another, we watch American Horror Story and then at some point, he asks me if I'm okay. I always tell him that I am doing alright, but I am really tempted to throw him off one of these times and wail, "Noooooo! I'm not! And it's your fault! And I had sex with a guy who doesn't like me anymore! And that's your fault, too!", but I don't, because that would be stupid.
I am fine, most of the time, so that's not a lie, and I can't even find it in me to blame Gino for the times when I am decidedly not fine. I definitely cannot hold him accountable for anything that happens with my personal life. Screaming at him would be, at this point, nonsensical. It would be funny, but I would much rather just have a conversation with him. The conversations we have are all kind of similar to each other, in terms of content and the reassurances we lay on for one another. It's a bit like therapy, because I usually leave feeling better, but not like I have really made any real progress. We both say the same things, to and for and about each other, and resolve nothing, but it feels comforting. The one big change from the way we are with each other is, we actually listen when the other person is speaking. We stopped listening to each other when we were still enduring this dead end street of a marriage, waiting for the other person to finish just so we would get our turn. Now that we only see each other, at most, once a week, we give each other more room to talk and it is pretty nice. We're not just talking at each other, although Gino does still have the attention span of a poodle, but only when he is on his computer. I could be juggling flaming batons and I wouldn't be able to tear his focus away from a story on the CNN website or Star Trek Online.
Gino told me he is thinking of asking someone out, and I told him that I thought it was a fine idea, he should start dating because I am tired of hearing about how horny he is. I wasn't surprised to learn that the girl he has been thinking of approaching is the same girl he told me he liked, weeks ago when we nearly got into a huge argument about his preference for brunettes over blondes. I'm a blonde, this girl is a blonde, but Gino claims he doesn't like blondes. Whatever. I had checked out her picture, in the employee database, just to see what she looked like, and I was a little surprised with myself, that I didn't immediately start picking her apart, the way that I had with other women Gino had pointed out. I told Gino that I had seen her picture, that I agreed that she was cute, then went into a story about showing it to two of my co-workers and how they instantly turned into drag queens about it and proceeded to read the shit out of her photo. I didn't agree with them at all, and, exasperated, asked them, "Can't we just be nice to this girl? I'm sure she is a lovely person."
"She looks like she's crazy," Peg said.
"No, she doesn't," I answered back, "Isn't it a good sign that I want my ex-husband to get laid?"
Apparently, it's not a good sign. I feel like my lack of anger and pettiness are not what people want to hear from me. Everyone wants me to wish pain and suffering upon Gino, but I'm kind of over that. I just want the motherfucker to be happy and stop moping around, and the only way that will happen is if he has sex with someone he was never married to. Peg, and my aunts, and my parents, and anyone else who has ever been divorced, cannot wrap their heads around my lack of malice. Still, I already went through the daydreaming about dismembering Gino's corpse thing, and now I'm just happy to see him, and I am also happy that he's interested in someone who is not eleven years younger than him.
He did, of course, nearly fuck it all up by casting aspersions on Mike, AGAIN. Something seems to stick in his craw about that whole situation, and though I kind of understand it, I don't appreciate it. He told me that I can do better, that Mike isn't that good-looking, and I had to change the subject because it was getting on my nerves. I was tempted to point out to him that Mike has a body like the Lord Christ Himself, and that I found him plenty attractive, and that no, actually, I can't do better. I can't even do that well. Of course, if I had gone there, I would have had to assure Gino that even though Mike has a good body, his body is even better, and that he is probably also taller, and funnier, just so he didn't get upset that I was talking about another man favorably. I changed the conversation because even though I am capable of telling Gino these things, I don't feel that I should. I need to let him know that it isn't my job anymore, although I do appreciate him trying to build up my confidence some. I just wish he could do so without talking smack about the guys I get involved with. I also could have said that it's none of his business, but when you've invested a significant amount of time in someone, you do feel that who they associate with is your business. I understand the inclination and I have indulged in it myself. I totally gave the 20-year-old Gino was interested in the full Paris Is Burning treatment because I thought she was ridiculous and didn't understand why he thought she was so great. The difference between that and Gino continuously pointing out that I can do better is that Gino had a hard-on for this bitch while we were still married, and I know that because he told me about it all the time. We aren't together anymore, I am free to do whatever (and whomever) I want, but he still feels the need to pick apart the only man I've had sex with since our separation. What he seems to be saying, to me, is, "You are bad at this and you must do better."
I am bad at this. I am bad at meeting new people, I am bad at putting myself out there, I am bad at not sharing every single thing that enters my mind. I am bad at letting go, especially. One good thing that came out of my heart-to-heart with Gino was that I got down to what I can't let go of about Mike. It's not that I think we could have had this big, significant love for each other or that he would have made a really stellar boyfriend, or that I even wanted a boyfriend right at the moment. What it comes down to is that my feelings are hurt. My feelings are hurt that I didn't get picked, the same way they used to be hurt when I didn't get invited to someone's birthday party in second grade, and I am obsessing over it the same way I would have in second grade. Knowing what I am doing doesn't make it easy to not do it. I just have to wait it out, like a bad stomach flu or a sinus infection. It's a sickness, and it will pass, and I can wait it out like a grown-up. I just can't promise that I will act like a grown-up the entire time I am waiting it out.
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