Your Moving Out Today

‘Don’t you tell him.  I will.’

That was what I was told re the hair washing last weekend.  Funny really, since I’m the one that is doing the washing.  I’m the one having to leave a room due to the vile smell permeating the air.  I’m the one washing his stuff and hanging it out.  I’m the one bringing it in and folding it.  I’m the one airing the room and changing the bed.  I’m the one that has the kid every second weekend – but I’m also the one who isn’t allowed to actually tell him to do anything.

Not sure how the hell that is supposed to work and I guess at the end of the day… It isn’t.

I resent it.  I resent the fact that he wants him here all the time when I can’t and don’t.  I resent the fact that it doesn’t seem to matter what I want.  I resent the fact that he doesn’t seem to need 'date' time with me, or need to spend time 'out' with me.  I resent the fact that he just keeps making decisions that impact me – and I’m supposed to “suck it up my darling”.

More than anything, I resent the fact that I truly loved him; but his utter selfishness is sucking the life out of me.  His inability to see that I want and need things, is slowly eradicating what I felt to the point where I looked at him tonight and I hated him.  As it was, I screamed at him.  When he mentioned I should stop shouting I think I shouted "I obviously have to shout!  You're too damned stupid to understand otherwise!!!"

This evening; at my prompting, he finally called the Harridan to organise the week he is available to baby sit the kid, but at her house.  Him putting off calling makes me feel uneasy that it will happen and I will have no say in it.  I'll have four days off and three of those will be in babysitting land.  And when it all comes down to it, I am organised and I assume that even if she isn't, he still owes it to her to give her time to attempt to organise herself around it.  Instead he organised that will have the kid this Saturday night to go to a wedding.  Yes, I knew the kid was on the invite but I figured as it was not our weekend and he had done nothing about swapping, that maybe it would be just us two.  Great, we could get dressed up, go out and have fun, have a bit of romance…  Romance.  Yeah.  Like that was every likely.

So instead, I am to have another person in my small house again this weekend.  24/7 television.  Yeah!  Just like I did last weekend.  And this one would be followed by the next weekend – kid again.  Then the week – kid again.  Then the weekend – kid again.

And I don’t want it.  I never wanted that.  It's not about the kid.  It's not about the Squeeze.  It's not even about the Harridan.  It's about me and my need for some time out... some space... some consider-fricking-ation!

And I won’t do it.  How can I when I can’t even tell him to wash his stinking hair..? 

This is not working for me.  I don’t think I love him enough to put up with it.  I don't think I ever loved anyone enough to endure this!  I loved him so damned much once, but I’m sick of always being last on the totem pole.  How can it work when I am forced to have the same argument all the time..?  We talk, I think he see's my  point of view, only to discover he is obviously mentally impaired because he didn't take any of it in!  Last time, I documented it.  All I got when I bought that up last night was "but that is all about what you want!!!"  Oh how quickly we forget that every second frigging weekend is not what "I WANT!"  I do that for him.  That is strictly a "for him" gig.  So given that every second weekend of my life is gone, and has been for years, I'm entitled to put my foot down on a few areas!

This time when he got to his usual threat of:  “I’ll move out.”; I realised that this time – he f*cking can.  Because I’m over it.

“So….  Pack up your dirty books:  Your Moving Out Today