I wanted to be with my daughter. I had no invitations for the fourth. My ex-husband was invited to his ex-girlfriend’s party and he was planning on going with his new girlfriend Julie, her daughter Addy, and our daughter Pony. So I chose to tag along. I chose to. I chose it.
His ex-girlfriend, Sara, is my nemesis, in a lot of ways. The first wife, I called her, in my head. I, feeling constantly, like the second. A role I did not choose. It chose me. At least, that was what I told myself when feeling like a victim. She has a “bigger than life” personality and needs A LOT of attention. I tried to be her friend for the five years that he and I were together, but it never worked. I found her effusiveness to be phony and could never establish a conversational rhythm with her. If the conversation was not about her, there was no conversation. He was “best friends” with her. He told me so when I met him. I knew that going in. I knew it. I chose it.
Sara has a lot of friends. She holds them close. Especially her ex-boyfriends. There are always a few of them hanging around at these things. And all of her friends were my ex-husband’s friends and thus became my friends. Or so I thought. At least, until the divorce. Then they vanished. Or I vanished. I probably vanished.
And although I like his new girlfriend Julie, I am not so sure about going to a party at Sara’s, but I want to be with my daughter, so I am going. I am going.
I was sober. I did not drink. Even though I have not decided entirely to be sober. I knew it was a good idea to not drink. Even I knew that much.
I felt awkward and uncomfortable for most of it- spending the majority of my time with my daughter and any other children that arrived. It was the first time I saw my Ex be affectionate with another woman. I will say, that was hard. And weird. And surreal.
I avoided Sara. I am pretty good at that by now.
It was time to go and see the actual fireworks but I did not have a better plan than the five of us going to my Ex’s apartment downtown; him, Julie, Addy, Pony, and me.
We went. Like one happy little poly family. Although we are not poly. I am just really nice to Julie and she is really nice to me and our girls get along and I am good at hiding resentments towards my ex. So I repressed and expressed and digressed. I am sure.
It was fine. The whole thing was fine. I felt a little bit of pride, leaving, that I made it through. That I did it and that it was possible. Even if I was not sure what the possibilities were.
But Julie and I hung out while our children played and my Ex did his thing and fireworks went off across the city. But none during our night.