Despite all the bad history between myself and Brad, I will always care about him. Same goes for John Black. I may not always be in contact or lunch buddies or bowling friends with them.....but part of me is always going to want good things to happen to them. Eventually. I would be lying if I said that I hope Brad doesn't first get slightly miserable, realize that I was right about everything in his life after all, and humbly apologize with just a little sheen of moisture in his eyes. Ahhhh....sweet vindication.....
To me, it seems more abnormal to hate an ex than to care about them. After all, this is a person that you were once in love with - you had to have seen something good in them at one point, right? And as much as we would maybe sometimes like it to be true just to feel better - all the good parts about our ex's don't just vanish because we aren't with them anymore. (I mean, of course, the best part does vanish - me - but there are still other good parts left) In my case, Brad and John Black were both people that I wanted to raise kids with, people I let into my life completely, people that I let see me in sweatpants with frizzy, just-washed hair....I don't feel that way about just anyone. If I once thought they had so many good parts that I would let them in like that, then how can I sit back now and say what an awful person they are and how I wish evil thoughts on them? I can't. I know that I poke at Brad quite a bit because he really has changed so much, but I am sure that underneath all that new, crappy attitude he is sporting...those good qualities are still there - and hopefully, for his sake, one day resurface.
This view has caused some friction in my life at points. Being friends with an ex can be uncomfortable at many points and straight up frustrating at others. It is strange to see them in other relationships at first and it just takes time to draw the new lines of what your friendship is going to be. It is a much more difficult process than normal friendship for a while, until you get to that place where you do see them as strictly a great friend. But it is so cool to end up with a friend that knows you that well - and it is nice to be able to look back on the past and fondly remember the good things because you have dealt with all the crap. John Black and I are still friends. Not hang-out-and-grab-dinner friends, but catch-up-on-life-every-so-often friends. And that is plenty for us. I know that if I ever needed him he would be right there for me - and I would do the same for him. Brad and I are friends from time to time, but we have discovered that the lines of our new friendship work best when we don't really talk. However, I also know that he would always be there for me if I really needed him. Neither one of them is someone that is going to be consistently in my life, but I find it impossible to hold on to angry, bitter feelings. Not only impossible, but unproductive. The only person I hurt with that kind of attitude is myself anyway if I let it fester. For me, clearing the air and getting some space from both of them helped me to see objectively. And now I truly do wish them both every shot at happiness that they can find in the future. I am sure that somewhere out there is the perfect woman for them. I am equally as sure that woman is not me.
Showing posts with label John Black. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Black. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Guest Starring......Lola
***Welcome to Divorce Isn't For Sissies newest feature....guest bloggers. While I was writing many of my different stories, I would think about the people that came on this adventure with me and all the different perspectives that they would have on these events. Sure, I tell you things how I experienced them...but other people may have a different take on how things played out or remember different stories that I could have completely forgotten about - like Lola's mention of the bathroom door, for example. Lola and John Black screamed so loud and so crazy that night over a box of Cocoa Krispies....it seems so ridiculous now, but at the time it was a monster fight through the bathroom door. Funny how time changes the way we view things, isn't it? Anyone else that was part of my journey that wants to share is welcome to as well - I'll even give you a fun alias! To start us off, here is our very first guest blogger.....Lola.***
_____________________________________________
I have been given the privilege and honor to write a guest blog for your entertainment…believe that I have some inside knowledge in the subject of said blog, and therefore some very juicy stories. But, alas I have been given guidelines which prevent me from divulging (and also from cussing) about certain activities including stalking, property damage and …er, nevermind… forget those last items…
I will never forget turning the corner into her drive soon after Brad f.., ahem, I mean, screwed up. She was hanging out the window of the kitchen ½ a story up smiling at me. This maybe should have tipped me off for the journey ahead. As I rounded the privacy fence, she poked out the window again with a large pitcher of water, and again a smile, and poured it down…onto an enormous pile of Brad’s most treasured possessions. I laughed and suggested we get the hose.
The series of debacles that followed were heartbreaking and hilarious at the same time. Although I openly objected to Johan Black and all he (didn’t) have to offer our jaded heroine, he did give her a lift of self esteem that was seriously needed at that juncture in her journey. Johan & I drove each other crazy. I remember episodes from when the 3 of us were living together involving bathroom doors (only one existed in the house), parking spaces (who wants the street?!?), groceries & animals where I could have easily committed homicide, hid his body, washed my hands & played dumb for the rest of my life. I’m proud of our heroine for not doing the same to both of us; sure we drove her nuts, too.
Johan withstanding, we had a lot of fun thanks to good friends, booze & boys in the months following Brad’s downfall. Dancing like idiots to burn off beer calories, outwitting unsuspecting boys in any game we knew we could win, making new friends & reconnecting with old ones…Lots of changes in the last few years have turned us from unsure, naive twenty-somethings into responsible, confident women. And it’s been FUN in spite of the so-called tragedies in between.
So…Chet. You have seen a good portion of this go down, you know what you are getting into. But if you f…um, mess, with my heroine your referrals will take a hit! Kidding, if you want to gum her collarbone (clavicle technically) it’s ok with me.
Love,
Lola
_____________________________________________
I have been given the privilege and honor to write a guest blog for your entertainment…believe that I have some inside knowledge in the subject of said blog, and therefore some very juicy stories. But, alas I have been given guidelines which prevent me from divulging (and also from cussing) about certain activities including stalking, property damage and …er, nevermind… forget those last items…
I will never forget turning the corner into her drive soon after Brad f.., ahem, I mean, screwed up. She was hanging out the window of the kitchen ½ a story up smiling at me. This maybe should have tipped me off for the journey ahead. As I rounded the privacy fence, she poked out the window again with a large pitcher of water, and again a smile, and poured it down…onto an enormous pile of Brad’s most treasured possessions. I laughed and suggested we get the hose.
The series of debacles that followed were heartbreaking and hilarious at the same time. Although I openly objected to Johan Black and all he (didn’t) have to offer our jaded heroine, he did give her a lift of self esteem that was seriously needed at that juncture in her journey. Johan & I drove each other crazy. I remember episodes from when the 3 of us were living together involving bathroom doors (only one existed in the house), parking spaces (who wants the street?!?), groceries & animals where I could have easily committed homicide, hid his body, washed my hands & played dumb for the rest of my life. I’m proud of our heroine for not doing the same to both of us; sure we drove her nuts, too.
Johan withstanding, we had a lot of fun thanks to good friends, booze & boys in the months following Brad’s downfall. Dancing like idiots to burn off beer calories, outwitting unsuspecting boys in any game we knew we could win, making new friends & reconnecting with old ones…Lots of changes in the last few years have turned us from unsure, naive twenty-somethings into responsible, confident women. And it’s been FUN in spite of the so-called tragedies in between.
So…Chet. You have seen a good portion of this go down, you know what you are getting into. But if you f…um, mess, with my heroine your referrals will take a hit! Kidding, if you want to gum her collarbone (clavicle technically) it’s ok with me.
Love,
Lola
Monday, December 21, 2009
Kansas
I have John Black on the brain. Partly due to the holidays, but mainly because I saw him the other night. We went out driving, checking out holiday lights and talking. I haven't seen him (other than a totally random what-the-hey moment in Meijers one time) in well over a year. We do talk on the phone or on the great, big, social network giant of Facebook from time to time - so we pretty much keep up on each other's lives, but we haven't been face to face hanging out in a long, long time.
It was great, but a little weird. Like I just got time warped or something. It was late, dark, and as I climbed into his car (the same one he had when we were together) it was seriously like a mini time machine. It was the exact same scene that we had played out hundreds of times before - just with a big chunk of time missing in the middle. I can't even count the numbers of mini-adventures or drives we took in that car - we were a great road trip couple. With the exception of Kansas.
Kansas is by far the funniest car story I have with John Black. It is also the funniest travel story that I have with anyone. John Black has a brother that lives in Denver. About a year or so after we started dating, we decided to road trip out there so that I could meet them and he could see his niece and nephew. It was a great idea! But it was a loooooonng drive - one that we were determined to make in a straight shot, no stopping at a hotel along the way. Now, I am a fantastic road tripper. I am always the girl that scoops out the fun facts, has the driving guides, knows the best spot to stop for food, and I am an unparalleled navigator, even if cannot instantly tell you which is north at any given moment. (Hello people! That is what signs and maps are for!) However, I am not the best driver. I will say that I have gotten much, much better - but at this time in my life I still hated to drive at night or in crappy weather. I also hated to drive if I couldn't sing to the radio at the same time, which didn't please John Black when he was trying to sleep. So naturally we left at six o'clock at night in the rain.
There are two main routes you can use to get there; one northern that goes through Chicago and heads out towards Nebraska or another southern one that goes down to Indianapolis and heads west from there through Missouri. We decided to stick to the northern route because technically it was supposed to be a tad bit shorter. Here is what I remember from the drive there. Sitting in stand still traffic in Chicago among about fifty six gazillion truckers all trying to get through the city into the heartland and trying to decide over and over again if we were in the truck lane or the car lane. Listening to the Counting Crow's Hard Candy CD so many times that I probably was singing it in my sleep. The utter and complete darkness of middle America at night, where there are literally no major (or semi-major even) cities along our path from Chicago to Denver. Also, and this is important, there was a giant, green dinosaur that John Black wanted to climb on and get his picture taken. I begged to keep going because we were about twenty hours into our trip at this point and all I wanted to do was sleep. So we moved on, made it to our destination, and all without any serious issues. One week later - we climb back in the car to head home.
We decided that I would drive first, having learned our lesson on the way there after we both stayed awake in the beginning and I proved to be a bad second wind driver. So together we found our way to the highway junction in Denver, discovered our particular highway number, and John Black curled up in his bucket seat to sleep. I happily drove along, singing, of course. to Counting Crows as quietly as I could - thoughtfully skipping all the high notes so that John Black wouldn't wake up. (Which is a bigger sacrifice for a soprano than I think he appreciated.) I was faithfully following my highway number which was supposed to stay the same for at least the length of a state or two. All was calm until about just before dawn. The sun was just starting to peek up through the corn fields when John Black woke up, yawned and asked how my night shift went. I gave him the good news first - we were making truly excellent time. Then I gave him the bad news - we're in Kansas, Dorothy.
I will give you a quick moment to consult your mental atlas - or go find a physical one if you haven't had geography in many years. Kansas is not on our northern route. Not even one teeny, tinsy tip of Kansas touched our northern route. John Black was understandably confused and pissy. Not the way to start off a day where you are trapped in a car with each other. When we had left Denver, I had on-ramped my happy little self onto the right highway BUT I took the southern ramp, not the northern one. If you have driven around Denver, you understand this is a completely believable accident. There are highways everywhere! But on this morning, John Black was not in an understanding mood. We stopped at several different backwoods gas stations - you know, the kind with two working pumps and a 'convenience' store full of hunting supplies and camo souvenirs? Have I mentioned John Black is the antithesis of Hunting Man? So the grizzly gas station attendants basically laughed at us, shook their heads at John Black's awful luck to be stuck with a woman that did this to him, and told us we might as well keep on trucking on the southern route because we were already parallel to our old route and it would just add a few hours to our trip if we tried to cut across and rejoin the northern highway.
Now I looked at it like we got the unexpected bonus of seeing the sites in about five new states - to this day I love unplanned exploring jaunts. John Black looked at it like he wanted to wring my neck. It ended up taking us almost six hours longer to get home; mainly because we were so exhausted we ended up stopping many more times that on the way out there - we even got all the way to Flint and literally neither one of us could finish the drive so we slept in a truck stop in Flint. Yup. Flint. Truck stop. And we lived to tell the story. It also took us a while because we were completely stymied by the belt loop of Indianapolis. By the time we figured out that the highway circled the city, our sleep deprived brains already let us go around it twice. (In my defense as a navigator, we had no plans to be in Indianapolis, so I had no fun facts or maps.) We also stopped in Missouri at literally the best Pizza Hut in the United States. I think it was so good that we said if we drove again we would go south simply to have that Pizza Hut again, it was that good. Okay, maybe that is a lie, but it seriously was the best cheesy bread we have ever had to this day.
So what lessons did I learn from this adventure? One. Get cheesy bread in Missouri. Two. Bring more CD's. Three. Always get extra navigational tools for the times when you take a wrong turn and end up in Kansas. And Four. If you don't let John Black stop for the crazy, green dinosaur picture on the way to Denver, promise him you'll get it on the way home, and then subsequently miss that state on the way home.....you will hear about it for the rest of your life.
It was great, but a little weird. Like I just got time warped or something. It was late, dark, and as I climbed into his car (the same one he had when we were together) it was seriously like a mini time machine. It was the exact same scene that we had played out hundreds of times before - just with a big chunk of time missing in the middle. I can't even count the numbers of mini-adventures or drives we took in that car - we were a great road trip couple. With the exception of Kansas.
Kansas is by far the funniest car story I have with John Black. It is also the funniest travel story that I have with anyone. John Black has a brother that lives in Denver. About a year or so after we started dating, we decided to road trip out there so that I could meet them and he could see his niece and nephew. It was a great idea! But it was a loooooonng drive - one that we were determined to make in a straight shot, no stopping at a hotel along the way. Now, I am a fantastic road tripper. I am always the girl that scoops out the fun facts, has the driving guides, knows the best spot to stop for food, and I am an unparalleled navigator, even if cannot instantly tell you which is north at any given moment. (Hello people! That is what signs and maps are for!) However, I am not the best driver. I will say that I have gotten much, much better - but at this time in my life I still hated to drive at night or in crappy weather. I also hated to drive if I couldn't sing to the radio at the same time, which didn't please John Black when he was trying to sleep. So naturally we left at six o'clock at night in the rain.
There are two main routes you can use to get there; one northern that goes through Chicago and heads out towards Nebraska or another southern one that goes down to Indianapolis and heads west from there through Missouri. We decided to stick to the northern route because technically it was supposed to be a tad bit shorter. Here is what I remember from the drive there. Sitting in stand still traffic in Chicago among about fifty six gazillion truckers all trying to get through the city into the heartland and trying to decide over and over again if we were in the truck lane or the car lane. Listening to the Counting Crow's Hard Candy CD so many times that I probably was singing it in my sleep. The utter and complete darkness of middle America at night, where there are literally no major (or semi-major even) cities along our path from Chicago to Denver. Also, and this is important, there was a giant, green dinosaur that John Black wanted to climb on and get his picture taken. I begged to keep going because we were about twenty hours into our trip at this point and all I wanted to do was sleep. So we moved on, made it to our destination, and all without any serious issues. One week later - we climb back in the car to head home.
We decided that I would drive first, having learned our lesson on the way there after we both stayed awake in the beginning and I proved to be a bad second wind driver. So together we found our way to the highway junction in Denver, discovered our particular highway number, and John Black curled up in his bucket seat to sleep. I happily drove along, singing, of course. to Counting Crows as quietly as I could - thoughtfully skipping all the high notes so that John Black wouldn't wake up. (Which is a bigger sacrifice for a soprano than I think he appreciated.) I was faithfully following my highway number which was supposed to stay the same for at least the length of a state or two. All was calm until about just before dawn. The sun was just starting to peek up through the corn fields when John Black woke up, yawned and asked how my night shift went. I gave him the good news first - we were making truly excellent time. Then I gave him the bad news - we're in Kansas, Dorothy.
I will give you a quick moment to consult your mental atlas - or go find a physical one if you haven't had geography in many years. Kansas is not on our northern route. Not even one teeny, tinsy tip of Kansas touched our northern route. John Black was understandably confused and pissy. Not the way to start off a day where you are trapped in a car with each other. When we had left Denver, I had on-ramped my happy little self onto the right highway BUT I took the southern ramp, not the northern one. If you have driven around Denver, you understand this is a completely believable accident. There are highways everywhere! But on this morning, John Black was not in an understanding mood. We stopped at several different backwoods gas stations - you know, the kind with two working pumps and a 'convenience' store full of hunting supplies and camo souvenirs? Have I mentioned John Black is the antithesis of Hunting Man? So the grizzly gas station attendants basically laughed at us, shook their heads at John Black's awful luck to be stuck with a woman that did this to him, and told us we might as well keep on trucking on the southern route because we were already parallel to our old route and it would just add a few hours to our trip if we tried to cut across and rejoin the northern highway.
Now I looked at it like we got the unexpected bonus of seeing the sites in about five new states - to this day I love unplanned exploring jaunts. John Black looked at it like he wanted to wring my neck. It ended up taking us almost six hours longer to get home; mainly because we were so exhausted we ended up stopping many more times that on the way out there - we even got all the way to Flint and literally neither one of us could finish the drive so we slept in a truck stop in Flint. Yup. Flint. Truck stop. And we lived to tell the story. It also took us a while because we were completely stymied by the belt loop of Indianapolis. By the time we figured out that the highway circled the city, our sleep deprived brains already let us go around it twice. (In my defense as a navigator, we had no plans to be in Indianapolis, so I had no fun facts or maps.) We also stopped in Missouri at literally the best Pizza Hut in the United States. I think it was so good that we said if we drove again we would go south simply to have that Pizza Hut again, it was that good. Okay, maybe that is a lie, but it seriously was the best cheesy bread we have ever had to this day.
So what lessons did I learn from this adventure? One. Get cheesy bread in Missouri. Two. Bring more CD's. Three. Always get extra navigational tools for the times when you take a wrong turn and end up in Kansas. And Four. If you don't let John Black stop for the crazy, green dinosaur picture on the way to Denver, promise him you'll get it on the way home, and then subsequently miss that state on the way home.....you will hear about it for the rest of your life.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
The Story of John Black
John Black is the man that I probably should have met in a year or two. Of course, I actually met him roughly six months after Brad and I split and I really don't regret it. It is just that I think any relationship that follows so closely on the heels of a ruined marriage is doomed. And ours was. In so many ways he helped me heal and move on, but it was totally at the expense of our own relationship.
If you ask John Black, he will tell you that I am amazing. He will tell you that our relationship crumbled under the weight of dealing with my family and Brad. Of course, he probably would use different word choices than the ones that I just did. And he's right. My family was a big factor, but while I accepted it, he couldn't. He just couldn't see past the moment to realize their point of view.
When Brad and I split, it didn't just affect me. It affected my family, too. When Brad and I started dating, my siblings were young. My baby sister was only two when we met. In a very real sense, he was like a brother to all of them. Then suddenly not only was he not around, but he had done some truly awful things that they just couldn't believe he had done. It was hard to handle. Adding to that was the realization for my parents that I was going to be divorced - which is no small deal in my family. The whole breakdown of my marriage was so fast that it stunned everyone. In December of 2003 Brad and I were trying to get pregnant. Two months later I find out about his affair. December of 2004 was my first Christmas with John Black, who I had met December 4th. It was a lot to ask my family to process and probably too much for me to handle - in hindsight, of course. In the moment I was just so happy to have found someone when months early I had been terrified I never would. To me, John Black filled in every missing piece that I had. But I wasn't ready. And that is truly why it failed. So Lesson 34 about life after divorce - don't rush into another relationship. You may ruin something that could have been amazing if you would just have waited.
Even though it didn't work out, I have amazing stories about John Black - some of which I will share eventually and some of which I will hug to myself. Here is my very favorite story - one I bet he wouldn't even remember but I always think about this as a turning point in my life. First journey back with me briefly to Brad - when he admitted his affair he told me it was my fault. He told me that he just wasn't attracted to me because he liked petite, short, skinny girls - so he just had to have an affair. That sounds so ridiculous now- I have never been petite or skinny and yet he married me. And I guaranty there was no attraction problem. But back when he was telling me this, I was already so beaten down that I just accepted it. I remember feeling so awful about myself for a long time, thinking that if I had just been skinnier then he wouldn't have cheated. Bullshit, of course, but I wasn't rational.
Fast forward to John Black. We are laying in bed in comfy clothes on a Sunday afternoon watching football. We are cuddled up and he moved his hand to rest on my stomach - of course I immediately tried to move it to some less jiggly part of my body. He asked me what I was up to, so I told him it made me uncomfortable to have him touching my flabby belly. He pulled my shirt up over my stomach and laid both hands on my belly and told me to stop being ridiculous, that he loved my belly because it was part of me and he loved me. I will stop the story there because I am sure you don't need to know the rest, but his complete acceptance of all of me was something I never had with Brad - ever. And that one comment has stayed with me always. And yes, I realize it sounds completely corny, but it is completely representative of my relationship with John Black. Despite all the nonsense and the way we ended up - we both truly accepted each other for who were were, flaws and all. It was a lesson I needed to learn. John Black - you are a good egg.
If you ask John Black, he will tell you that I am amazing. He will tell you that our relationship crumbled under the weight of dealing with my family and Brad. Of course, he probably would use different word choices than the ones that I just did. And he's right. My family was a big factor, but while I accepted it, he couldn't. He just couldn't see past the moment to realize their point of view.
When Brad and I split, it didn't just affect me. It affected my family, too. When Brad and I started dating, my siblings were young. My baby sister was only two when we met. In a very real sense, he was like a brother to all of them. Then suddenly not only was he not around, but he had done some truly awful things that they just couldn't believe he had done. It was hard to handle. Adding to that was the realization for my parents that I was going to be divorced - which is no small deal in my family. The whole breakdown of my marriage was so fast that it stunned everyone. In December of 2003 Brad and I were trying to get pregnant. Two months later I find out about his affair. December of 2004 was my first Christmas with John Black, who I had met December 4th. It was a lot to ask my family to process and probably too much for me to handle - in hindsight, of course. In the moment I was just so happy to have found someone when months early I had been terrified I never would. To me, John Black filled in every missing piece that I had. But I wasn't ready. And that is truly why it failed. So Lesson 34 about life after divorce - don't rush into another relationship. You may ruin something that could have been amazing if you would just have waited.
Even though it didn't work out, I have amazing stories about John Black - some of which I will share eventually and some of which I will hug to myself. Here is my very favorite story - one I bet he wouldn't even remember but I always think about this as a turning point in my life. First journey back with me briefly to Brad - when he admitted his affair he told me it was my fault. He told me that he just wasn't attracted to me because he liked petite, short, skinny girls - so he just had to have an affair. That sounds so ridiculous now- I have never been petite or skinny and yet he married me. And I guaranty there was no attraction problem. But back when he was telling me this, I was already so beaten down that I just accepted it. I remember feeling so awful about myself for a long time, thinking that if I had just been skinnier then he wouldn't have cheated. Bullshit, of course, but I wasn't rational.
Fast forward to John Black. We are laying in bed in comfy clothes on a Sunday afternoon watching football. We are cuddled up and he moved his hand to rest on my stomach - of course I immediately tried to move it to some less jiggly part of my body. He asked me what I was up to, so I told him it made me uncomfortable to have him touching my flabby belly. He pulled my shirt up over my stomach and laid both hands on my belly and told me to stop being ridiculous, that he loved my belly because it was part of me and he loved me. I will stop the story there because I am sure you don't need to know the rest, but his complete acceptance of all of me was something I never had with Brad - ever. And that one comment has stayed with me always. And yes, I realize it sounds completely corny, but it is completely representative of my relationship with John Black. Despite all the nonsense and the way we ended up - we both truly accepted each other for who were were, flaws and all. It was a lesson I needed to learn. John Black - you are a good egg.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Loss of the Secret Keeper
So last night I had a big secret. A secret of monumental proportions. A secret that was threatening to explode my brain if I didn't talk to someone as soon as I could get my hands on my cell phone. As soon as I left where I was (which I'm not telling because it's a secret of course) I immediately grabbed my phone to call.......no one.
Being married automatically gives you a person to tell everything to. (I completely just ended that sentence with a preposition, but I have always hated that rule anyway and couldn't come up with a better way to finish it quickly - so deal.) No exceptions. When they say "for better or for worse" that also means "and with all my good gossip and juicy scandals". It is unwritten, understood marriage law. Everyone who has been in a serious relationship knows exactly what I mean here. Brad and I had zero secrets (other than the whole affair of course, small peanuts really) and our end of day recap before bed regularly consisted of swapping stories about people that we heard throughout the day. On a small tangent.....you would think that because I am the woman that I would be the big instigator of this tradition - you would be wrong. Brad gossiped like a little, old, blue-haired lady at the hairdressers. Anyway, anything that was told to either of us was fair game to the other one - without exception. We may not have admitted that to every friend or acquaintance, but that is how it was. And it wasn't just a random habit between Brad and I - my following relationship with notorious John Black had the same deal. We were a team - and as a team we had an obligation to share information. Because I was with Brad for eight years and then on and off with John Black for three more years - this is really the first year I haven't had an official secret keeper.
The hard part about having a secret keeper when single is that secret keepers really can't be just good friends. Especially good married or dating friends. And here's why: They are already some one's secret keeper! They already have allegiance to someone other than you. They are bound to share all good gossip and juicy scandal with that person. (see above) Therefore YOUR secret is now shared material. There is no way around it - that is the code. I can call up one of my sisters or friends and share my dirt BUT they are completely going to turn around and share my dirt with their husband or boyfriend. Which is how it should be, but it makes it hard for a single girl to find a good secret keeper. In the past I have used Brad as a temporary secret keeper, but not only is that probably not very healthy but he is also on my shit list this week - so no big secret for him. I do confess to venting to John Black this morning a bit, but he does have a girlfriend so I can only carry that so far before I feel like I am stepping on toes. So the search is on for a new secret keeper, preferably one with great shoulders. I am thinking of holding auditions.....
Being married automatically gives you a person to tell everything to. (I completely just ended that sentence with a preposition, but I have always hated that rule anyway and couldn't come up with a better way to finish it quickly - so deal.) No exceptions. When they say "for better or for worse" that also means "and with all my good gossip and juicy scandals". It is unwritten, understood marriage law. Everyone who has been in a serious relationship knows exactly what I mean here. Brad and I had zero secrets (other than the whole affair of course, small peanuts really) and our end of day recap before bed regularly consisted of swapping stories about people that we heard throughout the day. On a small tangent.....you would think that because I am the woman that I would be the big instigator of this tradition - you would be wrong. Brad gossiped like a little, old, blue-haired lady at the hairdressers. Anyway, anything that was told to either of us was fair game to the other one - without exception. We may not have admitted that to every friend or acquaintance, but that is how it was. And it wasn't just a random habit between Brad and I - my following relationship with notorious John Black had the same deal. We were a team - and as a team we had an obligation to share information. Because I was with Brad for eight years and then on and off with John Black for three more years - this is really the first year I haven't had an official secret keeper.
The hard part about having a secret keeper when single is that secret keepers really can't be just good friends. Especially good married or dating friends. And here's why: They are already some one's secret keeper! They already have allegiance to someone other than you. They are bound to share all good gossip and juicy scandal with that person. (see above) Therefore YOUR secret is now shared material. There is no way around it - that is the code. I can call up one of my sisters or friends and share my dirt BUT they are completely going to turn around and share my dirt with their husband or boyfriend. Which is how it should be, but it makes it hard for a single girl to find a good secret keeper. In the past I have used Brad as a temporary secret keeper, but not only is that probably not very healthy but he is also on my shit list this week - so no big secret for him. I do confess to venting to John Black this morning a bit, but he does have a girlfriend so I can only carry that so far before I feel like I am stepping on toes. So the search is on for a new secret keeper, preferably one with great shoulders. I am thinking of holding auditions.....
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