Yesterday I moved the remainder of my stuff out of my former home.  Eight hours of packing the last little bit that I hadn’t gotten to before, lifting and moving all those boxes, totes and small bits of furniture left me stiff, sore and starving but it’s over.  It was so strange to see the sum total of my worldly possessions after 41 years of life and almost 21 years of marriage crammed into a 10′ x 15′ mini storage unit.  It felt like I should have had so much more and yet some of it I hadn’t even wanted to take.

A wonderful lady, who until yesterday I had considered more of an acquaintance than a close friend, showed up with her husband, one of their teenaged sons and their pickup truck and stayed for 5 hours helping me take 4 pickup loads and 2 trailer loads to my mini storage unit. I was embarrased that I was completely broke (the mini-storage cost more than I expected and left me with $7 until payday), I couldn’t even buy them pizza or sodas but I was sooooo very grateful for them, they were the only help I had… besides my soon-to-be-ex-husband and older daughter.

That infuriating man was pretty decently behaved yesterday, much to my surprise.  He had seemed offended that I didn’t ask for his help moving.  Nope, I can’t win.  My response to that was that he had made it very clear that he was not going to help me leave him in any way, shape or form so that was why I hadn’t asked him.  He countered with something along the lines of yes, he did say that to me but since I was going to leave him regardless he wanted to make the transition as smooth as possible.

I read that as him wanting me out of his house as soon as possible even if he has to help me go.  It suddenly seemed very appropriate to make him move my piano one more time. 

So I said he could help and in the end I was very grateful for his assistance and told him so.  The reward for my gratitude was a earnest, heartfelt plea for the girl he married, who was “madly in love with him”, by the way, “and he loved her in return” to come back to him because it’s not too late…

Gag me with a spoon.  That girl never loved him “madly” and I’ve had 20 years of his “love” and I’m not going to put up with another day of it.  However, after the conversation that led to my last post “If I Had Done What You’ve Done” my sole response to stuff like that is now and forevermore “I understand why you think/feel that way but I’m doing the right thing”. 

He walked away feeling confident that I am in the wrong and that he is the victim here but I walked away… Free.

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