Tender Touch Gathers Strength

It’s been a few weeks now, I got a rickety old table at a garage sale for my dining room and the kids and I can eat our bacon and eggs for dinner together there. I can’t afford a whole lot for groceries so our diet is pretty meager. Good thing they like hot dogs without buns. That first weekend was pretty miserable without them, it killed me.  My heart felt like it was torn into.  I don’t think I ever have felt the emptiness inside me so badly, the loneliness, the despair.  It was something I’ve never felt before. I dread every weekend. And every Sunday night, the girls come back in such a state, all weekend their hair hasn’t been combed, it’s a tangled rat’s nest. Their clothes are filthy dirty and not the clothes I sent them to him with and he doesn’t return the clothes back. It’s so frustrating. They come back all upset and in a terrible mood. My youngest was potty trained and now she’s having accidents and cries in her sleep at night. I just wish I was a fly on the wall in that other house. I wish I knew what was going on. I went over there one weekend and he slammed the door on my face, saying I wasn’t allowed while he had visitation with the kids, I slapped him.  I was so angry. I have never been so angry in my life. In fact, I have felt so many new emotions these last few weeks it’s almost overwhelming.  I feel like I’m becoming a whole new person. I am becoming a whole new person.

The only good thing that has happened in the last few weeks is that I met a wonderful man, his name is Teddy Bear. Well, that’s his CB handle, it’s not his real name. But I like it better than his real name. He’s sweet, he’s kind, and he’s really good-looking.  He’s about six-foot-three, black hair, brown, gentle eyes, darker, olive-skinned man. He’s Italian.  I think I’m liking Italian men. He’s got a beard and a mustache and it’s very soft, not scratchy.  He’s kissed me good night a couple of times.  We talk every day on the CB and have coffee whenever we can or whenever he’s in the area.  He delivers gravel and his route in right in front of the apartment building.

He’s been good for me when the kids go to their father’s, staying in my apartment alone is nerve-wracking. I need my children.  I was made to be a mother.  It’s what I was meant to be. His conversation and coffee dates have occupied some of my time, he is planning to take me on a picnic next weekend.

Job hunting has not been very successful, I’m an overly educated, under-skilled woman. No one wants to hire me. But, I am determined.  Also, funny thing, over these few weeks in the apartment, gradually my sense of taste and smell is returning. I’m still pretty weak, and the rash is going away. I still get tired easily, but that’s probably just the stress, but food now tastes much better, maybe it’s just my own cooking now and not my husband’s. It is odd.