Sleeping With The Enemy

Recently, while enjoying an article posted by one of my new favorite pundits I read about a sweet message that was passed to her from a wonderful stranger who took the time to notice one the subtle messages that we all emit without even realizing it. The author was having a bad day and the woman in front of her in the checkout line at the grocery store took the time to speak to her and pass her a note. This was a note that the elderly woman had received after the death of her husband and son and contained some words of wisdom that helped her cope with her grief. The note basically conveyed the thought that people move in and out of our lives. Some of them are with us briefly, others remain for years but no matter what the case may be they are in our life for a reason. Each and every person we come in contact with brings some experience or lesson or message with them.

Now I have known this for a very long time, I’ve passed this wisdom on to other people in my life, never so eloquently but even so I have been a true believer in this message for a very long time. The problem is I sometimes forget this and fall into the old pattern of why me? Why am I being treated this way? Who in the hell is this asshole and how did I end up in a relationship with him? How in the world did I ever get so lucky to find someone who loves me for who I am and do I really deserve him? But again, I have used this explanation many times in the past, usually to explain a very stupid or unhealthy decision I’ve made. Somehow it’s easier for me to accept some of the things that I have experienced if I simply accept the fact that I needed someone to treat me poorly in order for me to realize what I did or didn’t like or would no longer accept or tolerate. Other times I used it to acknowledge painful experiences by accepting the fact that just as I had used other people to grow as a person so had people used me to experience their life lessons.

It isn’t easy or comfortable to lose those people that we love and hold dear and others we remove willingly. Whatever the case may be each and every person we encounter brings something special and important into our lives. They each bring with them some life lesson. It is through all of these lessons and experiences that we become who and what we are. We must learn to accept and appreciate the good and the bad.

So, it is time for me to thank someone that came into my life at a time when I hated who I was and was in the process of punishing myself for breaking the heart of someone I loved very much. This person taught me some of the most valuable lessons I’ve ever learned. He spent ten years teaching me how to be a better person, then I kicked his ass out the door.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for letting me pay all the bills while you spent your money on yourself. I have learned how important it is to have a partner that is willing to share the responsibility of caring for and supporting each other.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for quitting your job because someone pissed you off or looked at you the wrong way. I have learned how much I appreciate a partner that is capable of taking the good with the bad and is committed to his career.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for insisting the house be perfect and spotless. I now know that I am capable of keeping a house spotless but I will never again be a slave to housework. Also, I now understand that a house is not a home and a home does not need to be perfect as long as it is filled with love, laughter and respect.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for launching sharp projectiles at me while my back was turned. I learned very quickly to keep my senses alert and actually developed eyes in the back of my head, just ask my teenage step-sons if you don’t believe this is possible.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for using household furnishings as weapons against me. I am quite confident that I can still deflect a coffee table, a kitchen chair and large pieces of stereo equipment should the need arise.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for making me suffer through days and weeks of silence. I will never again remain silent nor will I allow my partner to remain silent when we have a misunderstanding or disagree.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for insisting on having everything your way. Never again will I allow someone else to dictate my thoughts, beliefs or actions. I will be more than willing to compromise and will expect nothing less from my partner, however, I am entitled to have an opinion.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for breaking my tailbone. Each and every time I sit in that particular position that sends sharp pains up my back it reminds me that I made the right decision when I removed you from my life.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for trying to run me over with the car. I now know that my reflexes are quick enough, and my mind reacts fast enough to enable me to jump on the hood of a moving car. Guess countless hours of cop shows growing up came in handy too. Bo and Luke Duke have nothing on me.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for not giving me the children I so desperately wanted. The thought of having to deal with you for the rest of my life makes me nauseous and makes my heart race. Besides the first time you touched one of them the way you touched me I would have been spending the rest of my life wearing striped clothing.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for clarifying my hatred of the word cunt. Never again will I quietly accept the use of this word as a description of me. By the way, sorry if I hurt you when you called me a cunt in front of the neighbors. I didn’t realize that I was strong enough to pick you up and slam you against the wall.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for allowing your girlfriend to visit our home while I was at work and for allowing her to leave her cigarette butts in the ashtray. I knew right away they couldn’t have belonged to your cousin Tom, it was the wrong shade of pink. I will never again settle for a partner that doesn’t have the balls to try to repair our relationship prior to picking out a girlfriend.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for treating me as your own personal sexual blowup doll to be used and abused whenever, wherever, and however you wished. I will never allow my body to be sexually used or abused again. I will never settle for a partner that does not love, honor, and respect me and my body. I am thankful that the love of my life gently and tenderly makes love to me instead of fucking me, unless of course, I ask him to.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for using me as your personal punching bag. I will never allow another man to hit me or raise a hand to me nor will I ever raise my hand to another human being. I know what it does to a person physically, mentally and emotionally.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for insisting we try marriage counseling. I appreciated the opportunity to share every intimate detail of our marriage with a counselor. Mostly, I appreciated his suggestion that we get as far away from each other as possible. He must have seen something in my eyes that gave him the the impression that I was about to snap. Or maybe he found that shopping list that I misplaced: shovel, duct tape, rope, lime, arsenic.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for not allowing me to quit a job that I absolutely hated because if I had I never would have met one of the best friends I have ever had. A friend that listened patiently and then never failed to give me a swift kick in the ass for settling for so much less than I deserved. A friend that helped me see my way out of a horrible marriage.

Thank you Mr. Asshole for teaching me all of these things and so much more. I will never be able to repay you for the very personal and private lessons. I wish for you only good things and hope you have a rich and fulfilling life.

No, really, I do.

So, you think you can write?

Last night as we sat on the back porch sipping cold drinks we were going over the events of the day, dealing with the events of the moment and planning events for the future. Our conversation turned, as it inevitably does several times a week, to my employment, or better yet the lack of it. As I once again ran through my options, or lack thereof until I get up off my ass and get serious, I returned to my interest in writing a book. You see, I had recently been told that I might have the ability to put a thought down on paper and just maybe I could learn to write a real story or better yet that book that I’ve been threatening to write every time I decide I’d like to work at home. I don’t know maybe it’s just me but there’s something intriguing about crawling out of bed, getting all the boys out of the house for the day and then lounging around the house in whatever garment I happen to throw on at 5:00 in the morning writing stories or yes, that book I’ve been threatening to write. I could eat whatever, whenever. I could take a well deserved break from my busy schedule to make my way out onto the porch to have an occasional cigarette or pet the cats or feed the dog or watch the hummingbirds fight at the feeders. Yes, I’m confident I could be self-disciplined enough to work hard and diligently even though I’d be doing my job in the comfort of my own home. It will be perfect!

As I explained the merits of this to my better half I suddenly realized the one draw back to this whole plan, what if I can’t find anything to write about? I reminded him that I’ve always been a bit shy and have never really been much of a talker so what if I run out of things to say, what then? How To manuals? So, after the laughter stopped and he had wiped the drink that had just erupted from his nose off of his face he smiled and assured me that although I insist that I’m quite shy and don’t talk much I might be a bit mistaken with the evaluation of myself. “I can’t believe you’d say that,” I responded, “I really don’t talk that much.” “You’re right baby, I’m sorry you talk just enough.” Yeah, that’s how it goes, I’m usually right and once he comes to his senses he apologizes, admits his mistake, smiles and then makes some loving gesture to make things right again, you know what I mean, “can I get you a drink” or “can I kiss you sweetly then look deep into your eyes while I tell you how beautiful you are and how much I love you” or “can I get you a valium.” He’s the love of my life, sometimes I love him almost as much as a bad case of the chiggers, but I do love and adore him and would be lost without him. Although there is this really great new invention, I think it’s called GPS or PMS or something like that. Oh wait I didn’t mean PMS thank god I haven’t had to deal with that in about 12 years. That surgery was the best decision I’ve ever made about my health. Anyway, so I go back to explaining to my husband that I’m afraid I won’t be able to write something long enough to be considered a short story let alone a book. Well, he’s not really my husband he’s actually my boyfriend at this point. Although he was my husband but we got divorced and then I married an abusive asshole, that was a huge mistake let me tell you, so once I came to my senses about being married to an abusive man I quickly ended the ten years of abuse. So, once I realized that “hey, I’m a darned good person and I like myself,” I re-established a healthy sense of self-esteem. I was whole and healthy again. I found the most wonderful man that made me feel young again, he was seven years younger than me and he made me feel like a kid again. So, me and the alcoholic stayed blissfully married for at least three years, it only took 14 more years to getting around to divorcing him but some things you can’t rush into let alone fit into your busy schedules. You know, I had to work every day and he had a round of golf followed by the important task of holding down a barstool all afternoon and most of the evening. It was his daily responsibility to make sure that his favorite neighborhood pub wasn’t having financial difficulties. But I digress. So…..that’s why he’s not really my husband but actually my boyfriend, although he was my husband at one time. You see I got an e-mail from him and we got reacquainted, next thing you know I’m moving to Texas to live with the love of my life, husband number one and more than likely husband number four, at least that’s the plan. But what really makes it confusing is his kids call me by my name, however, they also refer to me as dad’s girlfriend, it’s all quite confusing at times. Then just when I got all that figured out they started telling their friends that I’m their stepmother. I like that, well the mother thing, the stepmother thing I’ll get used to eventually if they would just stop putting that word “evil” in front of it.

“So, do you really think I’ll be able to overcome the shyness enough to be able to write a story or a book?” ”And why are you rolling your hands like that, it reminds me of that nursery rhyme, you know the one about rolling up the dough, mark it with a “B” and put it in the oven for baby and me.” I’ve noticed he does that sometimes right in the middle of one of my stories, I just wish he’d tell me what it means.

So, Kim very kindly and lovingly told me he had faith in me and that he thought I’d find plenty to say. Well, I call him Kim but his name is actually James Kim. When we dated in high school he used Kim so that’s what I’m used to calling him but when we split up and he moved to Dallas he started using his first name, Jim. His family and friends and co-workers call him Jim but I just can’t do it, I’m so used to calling him Kim. So I call him Kim but he answers to Jim also. Well, most of the time I call him Baby or Sweetheart or Sexy Man but if other people are around I call him Kim. There he goes again, rolling his hands.

“I’m thinking of trying to write a book about my life, you know I’ve had a few exciting moments over the past 47 years and learned a few important life lessons that I could share with the world. You know I’m a pretty open minded person and consider my life an open book. I’ve never been embarrassed to tell people anything they want to know about me. So what pen name do you think I should use?” “A pen name, why would you use a pen name?” he asks. “What, you think I’m going to put my real name on a story or a book? I don’t want people knowing what a crazy ass life I’ve had, people would know all my dark little secrets.” “I’m sorry baby, you’re right, I apologize. Would you like another drink?” “Yes, thank you but please hurry back so we can continue our discussion.”

Oh, he’s so sweet, another drink for his little girl but I think he might have used a little bit more vodka this time. “So, baby like I was saying I think maybe I need to come up with a name I can write under.” He’s trying to be helpful I know but Little Red Writing Hood just won’t look all that respectable on the Best Seller’s List. “Oh my goodness I just thought of something, what if I end up on the Today Show to talk about my best seller? Did I ever tell you I almost fainted once when I had to appear on television? Pictures I don’t mind, usually, but I don’t know about television. Well, some pictures of me I don’t mind like that one when I was twenty and hot as hell, but otherwise?” Oh, it makes me feel good when he tells me that I’ll always be young and beautiful and sexy to him, like I said I just love and adore him. “But seriously, now that I think about it I’m not all that excited about getting my picture taken. Oh, that reminds me I need to talk to the attorney about those naked pictures of me that the drunkass is threatening to post on the internet. Do you think there’s any way to stop him? Oh well, I’ll worry about that tomorrow. So, anyway, I guess I should try to figure out this blogging thing. Laurie suggested I start blogging but I’m not sure what that means. When you blog do you post little short stories, or long stories, or maybe just a few thoughts and feelings? I think she’s right though, that might really help me figure out if I can come up with enough stuff to get serious about this writing thing and would probably really help me learn how to deal with the shyness thing. What do you think baby? Oh, I forgot to tell you that nasty waxing injury is finally healed enough that it’s starting to fade, I hope it doesn’t leave a permanent scar. Do you want to see it? Yeah, you’re probably right it wouldn’t be good if the boys come out and catch me with my shorts around my ankles, I’ll show it to you later. That was a tough lesson, good thing I started where I did though or you would’ve been out of luck for a few days. So, I think I’ll do some looking around on the internet tomorrow and see if I can get an idea about this blogging thing. I might start trying to put a few words down on paper too but it’s just kind of tough sometimes to think of something to say. Hey sexy man, are you okay?” Oh look how sweet he is sleeping there, I know getting up at 5:00 really wears him out. Hey what a great idea, when I put my fingers in my ears like he does it almost blocks out the frog noise. “Good night sweet prince.”