Stop! Where are we going again? It’s been a bumpy ride. Last few months have been a sucking black hole of life and family goings-on but it’s fading. Actually, I’m not sure that’s true perhaps I’m just becoming accustomed to the deafening roar.
The frustrations all continue but the hubster has donned his work gloves again, smiles once in awhile and mutters a few positive things here and there. Thank God! The fights over the last year have been epic and painful. I carried around a completed separation agreement in my car for about 6 months. I even sent a text to my best friend to be ready, with little or no notice, for me to show up on her doorstep. It feels like I’ve been standing at the top of the cracking dam wearing a blow up floaty ring and one of those synchronized swimmer nose pinchers, just waiting for the final crack and the whole thing to go flooding out from under me. A glimmer of light feels like the desert sun.
I started hitting happy hour in a quiet little place on the way home from work. Granted, I definitely enjoy a beer after work but that’s not why I like it so much. It’s the social aspect of it. I’m stranded up here. Hubster’s friends are great but they are his life long friends. We hang out and have fun but I really really feel like I need my own friends. I have one or two, but for the most part they are connected to the hubster in one way or another.
So back to happy hour. I have to question my own thinking here, Am I so socially inept that the only place I can make friends is at a restaurant bar? Am I doomed to be the unhappy at home, rode hard, bar fly looking for a friend? Is it something else? I’m fucking lonely! Ugh, that was tough to say. People in a bar are typically relaxed, not going anywhere, and generally friendly (or at least angry enough at the world to be funny). I’m immediately integrated into the regulars; two 40-50 something guys that go in every day to take the edge off before going home to their families and a few 20 something bartenders that are thankful to have someone to talk to, so their shift doesn’t feel so long.
Suddenly I’m getting text messages; are you coming? and updates about who will or will not be there on any given day.
YAY! I’m missed when I’m not there!! But wait a minute. WTF am I doing? I should be a home doing dishes or something… Why? Hubster isn’t home until close to 11 every night and frankly isn’t very good company when he is home. Glued to the laptop and if I were to say “half” listening to anything I say, it would be very generous. Ok, 1/10th listening, that feels more like it. There’s still cuddling while we’re sleeping but the social aspect of us enjoying each other’s company is g.o.n.e. We aren’t hanging out in silence but we are each in our own little world. I want to say it’s just him but it isn’t. Our interests are on completely different planets and to be honest we have nothing to talk about.
There, I’ve completely justified my bar friends. Honestly, I need SOME social activity or I’m going to lose it. For now, that looks like a bar stool in an empty restaurant with the occasional compliment and a beer on the house here and there.