Self-Flagellation

Tonight while taking the kid back, he actually remembered to ask for the tent that he left for their use at the start of the year.  Could have been the 5 reminders I gave, or maybe the text I sent when he left.  Yes... That is nagging, but it sticks in my craw that he always goes above and beyond and she delayed our holiday, treated him like crap and made our life stress on that trip; yet he leaves the camping stuff for her to use.  More so because he bought that when already separated, yet she continues to call it 'our tent'.

He doesn’t quite get my anger, but my life with the moodle is hard enough without him encouraging the “married couple” thing stays intact.  And let’s face it, while it is “them” and anything is still shared, then there is no “us”; at least not in my head – not that what I need or think has ever been considered.

He texts from the supermarket to enquire what I need and tacts on the text that we are to have kid 3 on Monday night.  I figure it must be lesbian night in velvet town…  I begin to text a reply to say “no problems for me, other than I’d prefer to stuff up her plans as she does ours every time”.  Then backspace and just send the fine by me, thinking that will shock him (which it did)

He comes home and I ask about the reason for Monday which is all about her having to leave early to take kid 1 to the airport.  I have to wonder why she doesn’t just let the kid get ready for school on his own and catch the bus; after all, for once he may actually make it to school on time…  But no, he is too little.  WTF..?  A quick memory flash to the never ending list of instructions that the Squeeze received when he arrived to pick him up because he didn't feel well one day is a pretty good indication that if he was 50, she still wouldn't think him capable of getting himself ready for school without her supervision.  Ooookkkaaayyy.

Then, I ask about the tent which I am almost positive he didn’t ask about.  He tells me he asked but doesn’t have it.  She gave it to the school to use.

I felt my blood boil up and down and up again and screeched at him. “What part of it isn’t her freaking tent does she not get?”  And I can picture what it will look like when and if he ever gets it back with a bunch of hideous kids running rampant through it.  

But that is the point I suspect.  That idiot Moodle I live with is obviously too stupid, or too disillusioned to understand that the idea of him ever having anything, must make her blood run cold.  For the life of me, I can't understand why.

And I keep wondering why he doesn’t feel anger, because there isn’t another person I know that wouldn’t have slapped that cow.  Twice.  What makes him continue to let her stomp all over him?  I'm not sure I will ever find out and at the end of the day, if he is happy to never have anything and to time and again, risk our relationship (sorry, but the cowardly lion act wears thin and is really unattractive) - then what the hell do I care?  All I can do is let him throw her the final megre things she has allowed him to have - and protect what is mine. 

But I can't stop wondering why he lets her do as she wishes; why he has to keep letting her attack continuously without repercussion.

And then I wonder about me; and realise that perhaps he is my self-flagellation; and I wonder when I will have punished myself enough.