Thanks for the Memories

"Thanks for the memories. Even though they weren't so great."- Fall Out Boy

I couldn't tell you the last time I heard that song. But, I could tell you in great detail the time I played it at the bar just to sing it while we ordered shots. That whole time period feels like a different life altogether. I suppose in many ways, it was. I wouldn't even recognize that version of me. That girl was lost and looking for love in all the wrong places. Not once bothering to love herself. My best advice to young people, "You are not ready to be half of a couple until you are WHOLE on your own. Get to know you. Trust you. Believe in you. And, genuinely love YOURSELF."

The girl who played that song at bars and bought shots for her ex-boyfriend while daring him to remember... That girl was out for trouble. She thrived in the chaos. Drama didn't follow me, I led the way. Something in me was broken and I was sure whatever it was could be found in the bottom of a bottle, a thin white line, or a bed that wasn't mine. Eventually, I got what I thought I wanted.

A marriage based on a childhood crush and a vivid imagination. There were good times. I feel like that gets lost in a divorce. There's this perpetual lie that gets told like it was always awful. Of course it wasn't. At times it was the fairytale. And for a long while I was able to convince myself, and everyone else, that this was happily ever after.

I was the author of that story, I take full credit for the narrative I spun. I think, I thought that if I could convince everyone else that maybe eventually I'd believe it too. I wanted so badly to. I wanted that marriage to be my one and only. I wanted to raise babies together and grow old and watch grandbabies play in a yard. That was the vision.

Sigh. I'm getting so frustrated writing this. I don't want to remember anymore. I don't want to even think about it. Cause... FUCK THAT GUY.

There, I said it. I turned myself inside out trying to make that relationship work. Trying to hold it altogether. Begging time and time again for things to be better, different, easier. Constantly bailing us out of whatever sinking boat he'd gotten us into. All the while calling it love.

I don't miss it. I miss my babies being little. I miss the moments I rushed through or didn't notice because I was drowning in diapers and dishes and despair. That man watched me break, drained my sparkle and then demanded that I shine.

When I reminded him of the times he kept on when I said, "No.", and his response was, "Haven't I loved you enough since then?".

"Thanks for the memories. "

I heard it this morning during my spin class I couldn't help but smile and speed up my feet. A thousand memories flooding my brain. And, I just sped away. I don't need to live in the past. I don't need to explain my choices to anyone. Let alone a man who only ever showed up for the photo op. Leaving birthday parties to run off to adult softball and a case of beer. Always somewhere better to be. Something else to do.

I was the one kissing boo-boos and reading bedtime stories. I baked the cakes, checked the homework, planned the playdates, found the shin guards, filled the water bottles and bought the shampoo. I did it all. I created the magic. I fought the dragons. How dare he take credit for any of it.

Last fall I hurt his feelings when I dared to speak the truth. Our oldest daughter was hospitalized and unable to walk, he didn't call, didn't facetime, and certainly didn't put his sorry ass in the car to come see her.

We haven't heard from him since.

He blocked us on social media, yes his own daughter. No calls, visits, Christmas Gifts, not even a text to ask about them. Nothing. He did unblock us. I guess so he could be nosy if he chose to?

He texts the teenager on Holidays and her birthday. I have half a mind to block his number from her phone. All it does is upset her. Reminds her that he could if he wanted to. That he still exists. That he chooses not to be a part of her life. Not to have the hard conversations. Not to put in the work.

The littles haven't heard from him at all. Not a word.

I think the part that realllly pisses me off is that I lost all of our mutual friends to him. They all sided with him, you know, cause I was the one who ended it and then moved on and away. Most of them cited some version of only wanting what was best for the children. Fuck off.

So, here I am. Raising these babies. Creating memories. Loving them. Supporting them. Encouraging them.

He tried to take them. Not because he wanted them, that much is obvious. Just to hurt me. To force me to stay where he could come and go as he pleased and still assert control over our lives.

But they are here. And, I'm still cleaning up his damn mess. The boy has taken it all the hardest. My attempts to shield him from the truth only made it worse so now he knows. He knows that his dad has chosen to not be a part of their lives. That he continues to choose himself and alcohol over them. Always has.

So yeah, thanks for the memories. Even though they really weren't so great.