My head has been a beehive of emotion the last 14 hours or so. My wife (or would-be ex-wife) ate dinner (gyros at a place we both like) together. I must admit it was both an enjoyable, yet painful time. There were moments where I really had to restrain both being a flirt and being brutally honest. Boundaries are going to be an issue for a long while for us. Really, I love her and am deeply regretful that I messed things up. On the other hand certain comments of hers such as, “I had life all planned out” really rub me wrong. I think in some of my inner searching some of the motivation behind the affair was my detesting life being already planned out. I held my tongue at that statement, but might share it with her in the next day or two. We went shopping after dinner. She had to pick out some Christmas gifts and I nabbed a laundry hamper as the mesh sack I had been using was far from ideal. We had an awkward departure. Honestly, I wanted to kiss her, but had the counselor’s warnings of just making my wife “the new girl” in the back of my head and figure any physical intimacy beyond an occasional hug is a thing of the past.

After dinner and shopping I headed back to my folks’ house, only to arrive right as my mom had returned from picking my aunt up from the airport. My aunt lives in Taiwan and was returning to the states for the holidays. She’s a little bit of a free spirit, but I think in her there’s a whole blog on how to avoid the pain life by living internationally. After a quick hello, she started to pester me on why I was living with my folks currently in this up-tempo patronizing manner. All I could do was smile and acknowledge that I was in the proverbial “dog-house”. The she mentioned I was fortunate that I had my folks to take me in. At that point my mom chimed in that she, “wouldn’t have if his dad hadn’t insisted”. At that I went to bed. I was reminded of Harry Potter living at the fucking Dursley’s with Vernon’s sister coming to visit. Now in writing I think a witty retort might have been “well if there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’s something wrong with the pup”, but my timing is now way off. I would think after 36 years of being thrown under the bus by that woman I would be used to it, but it tore at me afresh.

After a little prayer and meditation time and letting the visions of my aunt blowing up and floating away like a balloon leave my head I was fortunately able to get a little sleep. I need to work on my assertiveness some. Perhaps I just need to surrender my shame and not worry about it.