Happiness. In the form of a blog.

What the hell happened?

I feel like I took a deep breath, exhaled, and then all of sudden........

I'm happy.

I mean legitimately happy.  I don't think I've been legitimately happy since before I started shaving my legs (and I think I was around 9?  Maybe 10.  I'm Italian.)

Picture this:  A rhinoceros is sitting on top of your back for yeeeeaaaars, and every day you try to crawl out from underneath this rhino's ass.  You're scratching and clawing at the earth, trying to pull yourself away from Mr. Rhinoceros to go see a chiropractor.  Sometimes you think you're almost out, but then he shifts his weight, and you're stuck again.  That was what my 20's felt like.

Right after New Year's Eve, I started to feel better, and like I was getting somewhere.  I FINALLY graduated school on January 5th.  This is huge for me.  I know, I didn't graduate from Harvard or Yale, or even a state school, but I'm not one who completes things.  I can barely finish a book.  I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth.  As much as I love to learn new things, I do get bored rather quickly.  This is something I cannot change. 

Anyway, I spent a lot of time in December really hating my ex.  Really, really, REALLY HATING my ex.  I'm not proud of the things I wished on him.  I'm sure he wished some heinous things on me, too.  I'm sure he would have been pleased if I failed miserably and didn't graduate school or lost all my friends or got chlamydia.  I also spent a lot of time plotting revenge on a "friend" who repeatedly stabbed me in the back by running right to my ex and telling him secrets I had shared with her.  If she thinks I didn't figure out that it was her, she is sadly mistaken, because.....I did.   I forgive, but I sure as hell don't forget. 

Well.....this time, I am going to forget.  I wasted so much time sitting around and wondering how someone could turn on me that way.  I racked my brain trying to figure out what I had done to this girl to warrant being stabbed in the back.  It was making me crazy.  I almost lost some real friends because I became so obsessed with trying to figure out the backstabber's identity and her cause. Regardless, I'm going to leave all that hate and anger in 2011, where it belongs.  Hatred is a burden.  It uses up a lot of energy that could be put forth to something good and worthwhile.  I used to think that letting things go was a sign of weakness or lack of pride in oneself.  On more than one occasion, I've heard both of my parents say, "Kill 'em with kindness."  I used to say that over and over in my head while waiting on douchebags when I worked in a restaurant, but that phrase can be applied to most situations.  I don't know about you, but I'd rather be kind and happy than spiteful and miserable.  Not to say that I won't stand up for myself when necessary.   Homie don't play that.  

 Letting all of that go has brought me to a better place.  I have this very zen feeling of calmness now.  Is this how yogis feel?  It's all new to me.  I recently reflected on times when I thought I was happy, but I was lying to myself.  I only thought I was happy.  Or maybe I just tricked myself into feeling that way because if I hadn't, the other option was complete and utter depression.  Now, I feel as though depression is not an option.  I won't let it be one.  I don't have time to be depressed, there's just too much to do.  The crazy thing is, I'm not done trying to make myself happier.  I still have a weight loss goal that I WILL get to, even if Jillian Michaels kills me during the process.  More on that later.

How did I really get to be sublimely happy?


Step 1. Get divorced. 


I'm kidding!!  Come on, that was funny!  Ok, let me put my serious face on.


I did something for myself that was realistic and something that I enjoyed.  Hopefully, it will make me some money too (Esthetician school).  I wrote down my goals.  I write everything down.  Visuals help me.  I've been chastised for this, but fuck the haters, it works for me.  

I also got real with myself.  I forgave myself for getting married too quickly.  I forgave myself for consistently getting involved with guys that weren't right for me, especially when I knew better.  I forgave myself for trusting someone that I didn't know very well, and letting them in on personal details of my life.  I stopped saying, "Woe as me!".  Ok well, I didn't actually say that verbatim, but I stopped feeling sorry for myself and being so angry about the hand I'd been dealt.  It's a waste of time. 


Finally, I realized something:  I was damn lucky.  Not to brag, but my mom and step-dad, and my friends, have had my back the entire time.  Holy Shit.  What would I have done if I didn't have these guys around?  What would I have done if my mom and step-dad hadn't financially supported me so I could go to school?  I am a lucky bitch.  There's nothing I can do to repay them.  Nothing.  I will appreciate what the people in my life have done for me every day until I'm dead.  And if I kick the bucket first, my ghostly ass will be flying around them 24/7 saying, "No really, I still appreciate you even though I'm transparent now." 


The best part of my new found happiness is that I can literally feel my dad's energy all around me now.  It's the strangest, and coolest thing.  Being stuck in a bullshit fog for so long prevented me from noticing it.  If you didn't know my dad, I feel sorry for you.  My dad was special.  He could make you feel like a million bucks just in the way he said hello.  He had this presence about him that could light up whatever room he walked into.  Even after his death, that presence still exists.


I faced a lot to get to where I am right now.  Sometimes, I'm afraid the other shoe is going to drop, and something really bad is going to shoot me down off my little cloud of happiness.  It's Murphy's Law.  But after everything I've been through, I've learned that regardless of what happens, there's always something awesome right around the corner.  It might even be a rhinoceros.

Lessons.......I've Learned a Few........Maybe More Than a Few

"The hottest love has the coldest end." 

Damn, Socrates, you were ahead of your time.  The following entry consists of the lessons I've learned since 2008, in no particular order.

• My children's feelings will always come first.  They're the ones that have to put me in the nice nursing home someday.  

• I need to surround myself with positivity because I easily absorb negative energy if it's within a 30 foot radius.  The people who bring out the best in me are the ones that I need to keep in my secret inner circle of fabulousness.

• I found out who my true friends were and I will never put them on the back burner again, regardless of how crazy life gets.

• I will never ever EVER lose my sense of self in a relationship again nor will I keep my mouth shut when I strongly disagree with something.  

• I will never let myself get too comfy in a relationship again, whereas I completely stop taking care of myself.  As a romantic at heart, I wish I could say that the right man will love you and still find you attractive if you consistently wear your SU Basketball t-shirt and sweatpants every day, gain 50 lbs, and eat a bag of Doritos in front of the tv, but that is simply not that case.  He may not necessarily run out and cheat on you, but there's a good chance he's not going to race you to the bedroom.  Reality is, not even my seductive charm and quick wit will win someone over if my hair is not done.  It's sad, but that is reality.  You don't want to get to a point where Kesha in a garbage bag looks like a supermodel compared to you.  Not to mention, there will ALWAYS be someone to impress, even if you are in a committed relationship: Employers, clients, cops who try to give you a speeding ticket, the list goes on...

• I am not capable of loving anyone else until I can look at myself in the mirror and say, "You......are the shit."  And mean it.  I have to be  100% happy  97% happy  at least 95% happy with myself and my position in life before I can contribute to a partnership with another person.  This works both ways.  I cannot commit to someone who isn't happy with himself either.

• I can't be with someone who doesn't respect me or my feelings because they simply don't understand why I feel the way I do. 

• I will admit when I'm wrong (I sure will try!) and follow suit with an apology.  And I'm not going to allow myself to always be wrong.  My future boyfriend should also have some sweet apology skills, too.  Being self-righteous is incredibly unattractive.

• I have to trust my gut instinct.  My best friend has scolded me about this on more than one occasion.  She's wicked bossy, thank God.  If it doesn't truly feel right, it probably isn't. I will never be blinded by infatuation again.

• I need my partner to have my back and be there for me when things get rough.  I can handle a lot of tough stuff on my own (because I'm a badass mofo), but having that special person's arms around you, telling you that everything is going to be alright......is priceless.  Sometimes, that's all I need to hear, and sometimes, I just need a fucking hug (even though I am still a badass).  I also need my future someone to be supportive when things are going really well!  You know, like when I'm famous someday!  (Don't roll your eyes at me......it could happen....)

So there you go.  One marriage, many lessons. 

With all that I've been through, I'm here to tell you that marriage itself, is not a huge mistake.  I'm fairly certain that marriage can be wonderful with the right person.  


"But Jen, how do I know if it's the right person?"


Whoa whoa whoa....I'm not a therapist!  


Seriously, from experience, I think that the test of time will give you, or me, the answer to that question.  I believe you have to go through some heavy shit first before you get married.  Loss, joy, moving across the country, moving into your mom's house, job promotions, unemployment, holidays with each others families, you get the idea.  If you can survive a hurricane, a tsunami, and an earthquake together and still feel the way you did when you first met, therein lies the answer.  



Marriage is not an institution.  It's a beautiful idea.  In a world full of shit, it should be the most romantic and meaningful idea left.  It is not something that can be taken for granted nor should it be used as leverage toward an ultimatum.  It is not selfish nor to be made a spectacle of (ahem, Kim Kardashian).  


As the chapter in my life entitled, "My Twisted 20's", comes to a close this year, I can't help but be excited, yet apprehensive, of what's next on life's agenda.  It's kind of funny, but I got a lot of milestones out of the way in my 20's.  I had children.  I got married.  I lost a parent.  I had to count out change to buy my family dinner  (that's not a milestone, but at least I can look back and laugh at it...sort of).  I got divorced.  And I somehow did it all without medication or therapy, although it probably would have helped.   


On New Year's Eve of 2011, I vowed to put everything behind me and start fresh with a different outlook on people, relationships, and life in general.  I look forward to my new career and where it could take me.  I want to be the best mom I can be to my kids because they're so deserving of it.  Now that I've pretty much figured out who I am, I'm ready to accept my faults, and continue to grow from my mistakes......because I am bound to make several more.  I want to give myself an entire year without dating to focus on my new life.  Cheers, motherfuckers!!! 

(In order to really understand my excitement, please enjoy this Whitesnake video and also Tawny Kitaen's love affair with David Coverdale.....and his car.)

Of course, if I've learned anything at all, I should know by now that life doesn't always go as we plan it :).  Stay tuned, kids.


 

The Means to an End

When my parents separated, it was probably the easiest thing they've ever done together.  They came to a mutual agreement, they remained friends, everything was as cool as the other side of the pillow.  Silly naive little me, I thought my husband and I could end things just as easily.  


It started out that way.  We sat down.  We discussed.  We eventually came to the agreement that things weren't working and that there was too much damage to repair through counseling or other means.  We were not the same happy, euphoric people that couldn't wait to marry each other.  It's hard to say whether or not we grew apart.  We may have, but I think what it comes down to is that we didn't know each other well enough before we got married.  

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeew.  There.  I said it.  Usually, I don't have a problem admitting when I'm wrong, but this is the one thing I never wanted to come to terms with.  Three years ago, I was so sure that I was making the right decision.  We had a spark, a connection, we totally clicked!  It was a "There were birds....all around....but I never heard them singing......til there was you" kind of love.  You could cut the passion between us with a knife, and I'm sure some people around us wanted to.  We were the epitome of a dating success story.  From the bottom of my heart, I meant every word I spoke during our wedding vows.  I took marriage seriously because I hadn't found anyone worthy of that kind of love before.  I should write a country song.....


So here we are, in the living room that's no longer "ours", avoiding eye contact, on the verge of tears, trying to to figure out how we got to the point we were at.  That word..."divorce"....passed my lips, and my eyes welled up.  Even though I knew when we separated that this was the inevitable next step, I couldn't believe it was really happening.  Everything that the people who doubted us had predicted of our marriage was coming to fruition.  We lightly touched upon the details of the children and money, but what I remember him so clearly saying was, "If I can't make it work with you, I don't think I can make it work with anyone."  Hmmmm....yes, this is true..... 


Just kidding.  Not really.  Ok, yes, really. 


Moving on.  


So initially, we were on the same track and it was nice while it lasted.  Eventually though, things got nasty, as they usually do during a divorce.  It took me by surprise and it was almost as if we hadn't known each at all.  Again, my parents were an exception to the "bitter divorce" cliche.  I guess I have to chalk it up to the fact that they're just awesome people who were realistic about their marriage and their futures.  I'm not going to get in to the nitty gritty details of the nastiness of our divorce because that phase has passed, I hope, and I'd rather look ahead than behind.  And after the year that I had, I really don't want to look at my behind.  It's quite bigger than it used to be.  

Now, Jennifer, what did we learn from this? 

HA!!!  Where do I begin!?

Feelings, Friends, and.....other stuff.

Happy New Year!  :)  This post is dedicated to Alicia, Megan, and Bridget <3

"Burned out" is the only way I can describe how I felt during the first half of 2011.  Spinning my wheels, going nowhere.  Stuck, metaphorically, in a snow bank at the end of my driveway in the dead of winter after my AAA membership expired.  I was tired of feeling trapped and confused and depressed.  I was capable of so much more because deep down, I knew I was smart.  Too smart, actually, to put up with the bullshit that I had dealt with.  I may have even been a little talented in something, although I wasn't sure what it was yet.   I mean, I knew I was talented in choosing the wrong men to invest a relationship in, but there doesn't seem to be any money in that.  

On May 25th (my 29th birthday),  I finally did something for myself that would enrich my life and also kick start my career. 


I enrolled in beauty school.  




Well, more specifically, esthetician school.  A few years back, I realized how much I loved make-up and thought it would be super fun to make a career out of it.  Unfortunately, in order to receive the respect as a make-up artist, you need a license to fall back on for credibility's sake.  When I got to school though, I really became interested in the physiology of skin.  Skin is cool!  (Stop going tanning!)  Science never excited me before, and I surprised myself.  Now that I'm almost done with school, I feel as though I can pursue any avenue that my future license will cover and be completely content.   So that's......something. 


The only support that I received when I registered for school though, was from my mother and close friends.  The husband didn't seem to care, which I had grown accustomed to at that point.   We separated in July.  The details to our separation are quite complicated, so I'm not going to share them.  We disagree about how things went down, and that's fine.  We disagreed on several things, so this isn't new territory for either of us.  When we split, there was still an inkling of hope within both of us that we would somehow work things out, that we would make a fresh start, and keep the family together.  Sadly, the fact of the matter is, we're too different.  He has an entirely different outlook on life than I do, and I can't be with someone who isn't on the same page as me. 


After we separated, we still texted occasionally but it was apparent that he was doing his own thing, so I decided to keep doing mine.  The best thing I ever could have done last summer was reconnect with old friends.  I've literally been sitting here for about 20 minutes trying to put into words what they've done for me.  And that's just it, I can't.   Well, maybe I can.

WARNING:  Things are about to get sappy.


I've never truly felt like I belonged with groups of friends that I've had.  Ok, I'm just going to say it......... I'm a little weird.  I have a really sick, sarcastic, dry, but sometimes goofy sense of humor that not a lot of people understand.  And I love Broadway musicals.   My friends GET me.  I can totally be myself and not worry about what they're going to say about me behind my back, because they will say it to my face instead.  We respect each other, we support each other, and most of all, we come bearing wine and tasty snacks when one of us feels shitty.  We raise each other up, instead of bring each other down, like most girlfriends secretly do when they're jealous (I think that's what "frenemies" are).  I don't know if they'll ever realize what they've done for me, but they basically brought me back to life.  I just hope that I get the opportunity to do the same for them someday.  Put the tissues down.


Fabulous friendships aside, I was still nursing a broken heart.  I missed the good parts of our marriage and the spark I felt when he sneaked up behind me to give me a hug. But I don't think I'm alone when I say that when you're married to the same person, attention from someone other than your spouse is taken to heart.  That was my case, anyway.  I felt so badly about myself.  I wasn't sure if I was still attractive and, because my husband had emotionally strayed, I wasn't even sure if my personality was going to get me anywhere.

But I put myself out there..........waaaaaay out there.  In retrospect, it was premature.  I went out to the bar with my friends, and I shamelessly flirted and hooked up with guys.  In a more classy and respectful way of saying it, my parents would not have been proud of me if they were privy to all of my........shenanigans. But  I felt empowered and completely free.  I still had game, even after a dramatic weight gain and emotional starvation.  Although, I was 2 cocktails away from putting my phone number on a bathroom wall.

Feelings of emptiness began creeping in sooner than I expected.  Even though I thought I had all the control and that I was using attention from men to make me feel better about myself, I still felt used.  I actually wanted someone to say to me, "I just really dig your personality."  I know! Pathetic, right?!  What a crappy place to be in, emotionally.  I was a mess.  Every time I looked in the mirror, I was disgusted.  I seriously needed a haircut.  And a makeover.....of my soul.


Not to mention the fact, I was still legally married.

Baby, It Ain't Over Til It's Over......

****Sorry about the wait for this entry, my darlings!  Wrapping up school, dealing with sick kids, and a pending divorce are quite time consuming.  Read on.....


April 2011

After my dad's passing, life had slightly gone back to normal.  My husband eventually found another job and even though it was only part time, it was something.  In an attempt to save money where we could, I looked into changing our phone plan.  So naturally, the best time to look into this was while I was at work.  It was a particularly slow day, so I went on our mobile carrier's website to take a look at our plan.  I noticed that the number of text messages my husband had sent and received was double my number.  At first, I thought it was a mistake.  Who the hell could a guy be texting that much?

Then, my heart sank.  Was it really happening again? I tried not to jump to conclusions and wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I just HAD to look at his phone records.  That's the thing about snooping.  Once you start, it's really hard to stop.  The possibilities of what you could find are endless in these types of situations.  I almost didn't want to know the truth, but I knew that I would constantly be tempted.  So I looked. 

Texts between him and a phone number that I did not recognize had occurred almost daily, back and forth.  The amount of messages peaked during the hours I was at work, slowed while I was at home, then peaked again during the time I would relax and try to sleep.  

So I did what any psycho would have done.  I googled the phone number, paid $5, and was given the name and location of the subscriber.  I recognized the name. It was a girl who my husband alleged was his friend, although I had never met her and knew very little of her.  She was an ex-girlfriend of an old work buddy of his.  While I was away at work (with the car), my husband was honest and told me that she sometimes dropped off food or cigarettes to him, which I found a little odd.   Why was she taking the time to do my husband favors?  If he needed cigarettes, why wasn't he asking me to get them? The only other thing I knew of this girl was that she used to hang out at a bar where I used to work and was friendly with all of my co-workers and some of the regulars. I maaaaay have checked her Facebook page and found out that she was in her early 20's, too......  Ok, ok, I'm a stalker.  Guilty.  Happy now?


I began to think back to 23 year old me.  Would I have felt comfortable going to a married man's house while his wife, whom I didn't know, was at work? Even if he was just a friend?  Maybe I wouldn't have cared, and maybe it wasn't that big of a deal.  Whether I was overreacting or not, the whole thing still bugged me, especially because he and I should have been working on regaining trust, not finding more reasons to break it down. We just couldn't see eye to eye on the whole thing.  He couldn't really see where I was coming from or why I was upset.  I felt that if the situation had been reversed, he would have been just as pissed off as I was.  I truly didn't care if he had a female friend, but in my opinion, out of respect for the other spouse, I think the two should be introduced.  He claimed he didn't want us to meet because he didn't think we would get along.  This made me even more suspicious.  Being with my husband made me very unsure of myself.  I never knew how to feel about things.  He had become really good at talking me out of being angry for something.  At this point, I didn't know if I should have just let it go or continue to stand my ground.  In the end, I let it go because I felt that my opinion was not being heard or respected.


The communication between my husband and this girl decreased somewhat but I was definitely still acting like crazy, jealous, psychopath.  I was constantly checking our phone records for texts and calls between the two of them.  I began analyzing the duration of their calls and tried to figure out what they could have possibly been talking about for 2 minutes and 36 seconds.  I seriously stopped myself once and wondered what had become of me.  I had never acted like this in any of my relationships before.  All I kept thinking was, "This is not healthy.  This is not healthy.  Don't give men another reason to think all of us bitches are crazy."


But I couldn't stop.  I was desperate for evidence.  One night, my husband told me that he was going out with one of his guy friends.  Of course, I didn't believe him, but I pretended to be cool with it.  Wanting to know the truth, I told him that I lost my phone in my car and I needed to borrow his so I could call myself and find it.  I grabbed his phone, went to my car and started looking through his texts.  There weren't any messages from the girl, but there was one from his guy friend which said, "You can bring *Girl's Name*, if you want."  

My suspicious mind interpreted that as, "You can bring that girl that you're cheating on your wife with you, if you want."  Was it completely innocent?  I don't know.  I was a little offended because I happened to know this guy friend of my husband's and we had all hung out together several times together.  Why the hell wasn't I invited?  It felt like elementary school all over again. 


Instead of thinking things through even more, I just simply reacted and basically went all Jerry Springer on my husband about the text.  He firmly told me that they were all just friends and that he didn't tell me she was going because he was afraid this was how I was going to act.  To me, that seemed counterproductive.  How was I supposed to ever trust him again if he wasn't being honest with me? I still wasn't convinced that there wasn't something going on between the two of them. To this day, although I no longer care, I'm still not sure of the truth.  It just goes to show how hard it is to rebuild trust after it has deteriorated. 

One night, while my husband was out, I took the opportunity to watch something girly on tv without anyone around to judge me.  Oprah's network had just launched so that seemed like a good place to start.  There was a reality show on about cheating.   No, not Cheaters, something with a little more substance and fewer ugly people.  How convenient.  This particular story I happened to catch was about a woman who cheated on her husband with a co-worker.  Her guilt eventually led to a confession.  Obviously her husband was pissed, but he chose to forgive her (Awwwwwwww).  The relationship, however, was now tarnished.  It was up to the wife to prove to her husband how stupid her mistake was, how sorry she was, and how important he was to her.  So she had to be honest about EVERYTHING.  The husband, not about to have his heart stomped on again, went as far as checking the mileage on her car to ensure that she wasn't going out if she said had to work late.  


Extreme?  Maybe a little.  But trust is the foundation in a relationship.  If it's not there, then the relationship isn't worthwhile.  And that is a scientific fact. 


So after watching this enlightening program on the Oprah Winfrey Network, I compared this couple's relationship to my own.  Why weren't we working harder to get back to a happy place?  Did we need counseling?  Less stress? More alcohol?  These questions remained unanswered.  

Well, I can always use more alcohol in my life, so the answer to that question was a resounding YES.  From me.

PSA: Miss Understood

I'm going to get on my soapbox for a minute and make a statement.

Let me be clear about something: 

When I'm going through something difficult, I write.  I don't know why I started doing it in the first place, but turns out, it makes me feel better. 

Ok, sometimes a glass of wine or Grey Goose on the rocks makes me feel better too. But writing is obviously the healthiest option.

I also verbally share my experiences with others, which occasionally comes back to bite me in the ass, because I set myself up for harsh judgement.  I'm beginning to learn that not everyone is going to like me or what I have to say.  The intent of my blog is not to man-bash, destroy my ex's reputation, play the victim, or gain attention.  As I've said before, I did not expect anyone to read what I've written.......except for my mom.  Maybe an aunt or a cousin.

I've found solace in writing this blog.  The most wonderful thing is that other people have found solace from reading my blog.  I never thought I could help people in that way, but I'm unbelievably humbled by it.  And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.  But that could also be from the wine...


So what is my point?  Do I even have one?


I do!


My intention is to share what I've learned from my experience.  I'm a real person who trips over her own feet, has nasty morning breath, makes mistakes (sometimes chains of mistakes), cries herself to sleep, laughs to the point of gasping for air, makes stupid decisions, has money problems, is lazy, wears glasses, is naive, and most of all, is slowly learning to accept her faults and grow into a better person. 

I have to rebuild my life and figure out who I am again.  If you care to follow me as I do so, you have my word that I will maintain integrity whilst mildly entertaining you at the same time.  If you don't agree with me, that's okay too, as long as you understand that everyone deals with hardship in their lives differently.  How many people criticized Oprah for sharing her story of abuse?  Or Elizabeth Edwards for writing a book about her husband's affair?  Am I different because I'm not a millionaire?

If you guessed that I've gotten some shit for what I've written, then you guessed correctly.  What can I say?  Haters gonna hate. 

Do Yourself a Favor and Grab a Box of Tissues.....

New Year's, 2010.  I'm hoping to put this awful year behind me and I have high hopes that 2011 will be nothing short of spectacular!!!  

Nope! 

Just like a venereal disease, sometimes your situation gets worse before it gets better.   

In January, Josh realizes that he's wasted quite a bit of time playing with "Homewrecker" and also, actual homewreckers.  He makes the brave decision to start exercising and trying to lose the weight he's gained since we've been married (it happens to the best of us).  He orders Power 90, a bunch of protein powder and gets to it.  Practically the same week he makes this change, my dad has heart complications and slips into a coma.  My whole world came crashing down.  

My dad cheated death multiple times, for some reason though, I had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to win this round.  He was in a hospital in Rochester and I was constantly driving back and forth to see him in case he woke up.  When he finally did, he just wasn't the same.  The whole month of February was like being in limbo.  Everyone waited, praying that he would improve.  


Josh continued his workout regimen.  He was doing really well, and dropping weight quickly.  I wanted to be happy for him, but I had mentally checked out from reality.  Classic case of bad, no good, horrible timing on every level.  I was literally just going through the motions of each day, unsure of what the future held.  


I couldn't be Josh's cheerleader anymore.  I was worn out and tired of giving all of myself to him and not receiving anything in return.  I wasn't deliberately ignoring him, but obviously, I was preoccupied and concerned about my father's well being.  He was preoccupied on improving himself.  I can't blame him, this was a huge step for him.  Why should he stop?  It wouldn't have changed how my dad was doing. In order to make himself accountable, he religiously posted on Facebook about his workouts, what he ate, how he felt, etc.  I noticed that his sister's best friend was putting in her two cents on his status updates quite a bit.  I found it a little odd that she was all of sudden writing all over his "wall".  It didn't really bother me, he had known her for a long time and I figured she was just being nice.  


My best friend, Alicia, offered to come visit me from New York City.  I must have sounded pretty messed up on the phone.  She stayed at my house, helped out with the kids, and basically just gave me another reason to love her unconditionally.  Josh and I had fallen back into old habits.  No communication, no connection, completely out of sync.  Just as before, I had an inkling that there was something else going on.  A woman's intuition is the most annoying, yet blessed thing.  I wish I was stupid....er. 

Josh's phone was always MIA.  He kept it very well hidden from me.  But he couldn't hide his computer.  So I went snooping again when he wasn't around.  This time, I checked his emails.  Lo and behold, guess what I found?  Emails between him and his sister's BFF.  In her defense, Josh seemed to be the aggressor.  He was mostly flirting, telling her that she was beautiful, amongst other things, and asked her if she wanted to meet up for drinks sometime after he got out of work.  


Mother. Fucker. Why was I so naive?  I'll tell you why.  Because I wanted my marriage to work.  I wanted to believe that he loved me as much as I had loved him.  I meant what I said when we got married.  For better or for worse, yo.  Even if it.......kept.......getting worse....


I decided this time to go about confronting him a little differently.  Maybe it was kind of malicious, but I wanted to hit him with my knowledge of what he'd been up to in a surprising way.  


It was a Sunday.  It had, surprisingly, been a pretty good day.  Josh was in a great mood.  We did something with the kids, I can't remember what it was, but I know that we all had fun.  That night, he put in his workout dvd, and he asked me to work out with him.  Oh really?  You want to hang out with me now?, I thought.  But instead, I said, "Sure, why not?" So we worked out together, giggled a little bit because we kept bumping in to each other, and we actually had a lot of fun.  I kept thinking how, after such a perfect day, it would be soooo fucked up for me to tell him that I read his emails. What do I have to lose at this point?  I've got his balls in my back pocket.  All I have to do is sit down.  I want him to feel as shitty as I've felt the last few months. 

After we worked out, drank some protein shakes, and chatted about how good we felt, I laid it on him.  "I read the emails between you and Kim."  Again, the look of shock that I know so well.  This time, I'm not sure if it's because I just ruined the whole day or because I caught him again.  "Seriously, Josh, why? Why are you doing this to me?  Have I been that horrible of a wife to you?" I demanded.  I'll be honest, I can't remember what his response was. Again, I told him to start packing his shit and figure out some living arrangements.  He, again, tells me he wants to stay, that he loves me, and me only.  Kim happened to also make the decision to work out around the same time that he did, which is how they started talking.  Eventually, as my attention shifted towards my father, he needed some attention and was readily getting it from Kim.  


I don't have the strength to fight anymore.  Kicking out your husband while your father is dying is probably not the best laid plan, I told myself. 


I told him that if he really wanted to stay, he needed to email her, tell her that he made a HUGE mistake (the word huge had to be in capital letters) and that he was not going to email her anymore.  I also made him show me the email he sent. She sent one back apologizing for any pain she may have caused.  Whatever. 

I felt like I was in control.  Finally.  I had stood by, helpless, for too long.  I also made the conscious decision to start working out as well.  Working out with Josh was really motivating.  He was an animal.  We got up early, worked out together, had a protein shake with a side of coffee, showered, and then I went to work.  He worked nights, so while he was gone, I did a nighttime workout on my own.  We were back on track.  All of a sudden, it was like we were newlyweds again.  Thank you, endorphins.  Our relationship did a 180.  We were so happy.......like all the time.  Even my 6 year old was like, "Are you guys...okay?"  I lost almost 20 lbs in less than a month and I had visible biceps! I dropped a pant size and my energy was through the roof.  Turns out, working out is all it's cracked up to be.


But all good things must come to an end, right? 


Meanwhile in Rochester, my dad's condition was not improving, it was getting worse.  Time stopped when a nurse practitioner asked me, "What are your dad's wishes?"  I knew she wasn't talking about how he wished to own another restaurant.  I felt like I was too young for someone to ask me that question.  See, my dad and I lost a lot of time with each other.  As a restaurant owner and the primary chef, he was always at work and not at home.  Most of my childhood, I didn't really know my dad.  It was only as an adult, that we started to gain some of that time back.  


I knew what my dad's wishes were.  He didn't want anyone to make a fuss over him. He told me several times that he didn't want to stay on life support.  I just didn't think this decision would have to be made so soon.  And it literally did.  I think my family and I had only a few days to think about it.  We knew what we had to do though.  It was time to let him go, and not let him suffer any more.  


My dad past away on March 3rd, 2011 at Strong Memorial Hospital in Rochester.  Josh was amazing.  He held me through the whole process and didn't leave my side.  Alicia came up from New York City and again, helped me with everything she could.  My family and I received an outpouring of love and support from friends and the community.  


And the Italians of Syracuse did their part and sent the food.  That's what my people do.  Bad break up? Have some lasagna.  Someone died? Have some meatballs and sauce.  Sick?  Have some pasta fazool.  To Italians, there's a meal suited for every possible situation, good or bad.


Naturally, with all the food and the crying, one forgets to work out.  Just as quickly as Josh and I had hopped on the wagon, when my father died, we got back off.  Oh and, to top it all off, about a week later, Josh lost his job.  Wasn't that sweet?  Back to Square 1. 


What's next?  Locusts?  The Black Plague?  Only time will tell.