This did not sit so well with let's call him Nathan Explosion, who was to come up for Christmas and New Years, and who is still invited. "No thanks, Colleen," he told me, breaking my little heart once more. I had secured a monogrammed stocking for his arrival and hung it over the mantel the one day The Ex had vacated the place, and purchased a Spiderman crossbow for his son to take back with him (yes, he has a son).
I understand, but I feel like he's holding my head and I'm running at him (Nathan), flailing my arms and crying. Catching shit for The Ex at every turn, and there's nothing I can do about it. He (The Ex) just paid five grand to get out of the lease at this house, and another grand to get into his roach infested apartment. Can't we all cut him some fucking slack? Or at least me for Christ's sake?
My life is so complicated right now. When I'm not passing kidney stones or going home early from work with a puking headache left and right, I'm fighting with Nathan Explosion. I need him to be a supportive partner. I try to be. I guess I could start by saying this to him and not the general public, but that's never been my thing.