Let me catch up on what’s been happening…

As you know, I reunited with my son on Christmas Day 2011. That took me on a journey, let me tell you, a journey to find that little girl I left behind. That happy, smiling, self-confident….loving, trusting, sweetheart of a girl….with all her flaws and imperfections…

After our reunion, I was just so…just I really can’t even put a finger on it…I was embarrassed that my life seemed to be stagnant… I was mortified that I was so scared of my kids dad that I couldn’t spend his entire visit with him. I was so petrified that I still can’t even put that feeling into words.

I felt like I had to justify why I was such a coward. He understood. I cannot fathom how he felt that I didn’t spend more than a couple hours with him…I don’t think I even want to.

That day was the catalyst for where I am right now. I spent months upon months gathering the courage to make a stand and do what I know was right for me.

First, I made plans to visit him for Easter…I was a coward and cancelled at the last minute. I don’t think I even want to know how that made him feel. Next, I wanted him to come here for Mother’s Day (but when I think back on it, it was unreasonable, he is still getting over his mother’s death.) He cancelled stating that he didn’t want to have to stay in a hotel again. I understood, it hurt, but I understood.

I was being unreliable and undependable, all because of my kids dad….I was being forced to make a choice. Even though the words that were coming out of his mouth said that even though he refused to support me in my relationship with my son, he wasn’t going to do anything (read: physically) to prevent it.

Yeah, right…

So, I made plans to go to Denver to be with my son for his birthday. Needless to say, I don’t think he trusted that I was going to come. I truly believe that he thought I would let him down. Every time we had a conversation from the time I told him I was coming, up through the day I actually got on the plane, he asked me was I still coming. Deep down, I didn’t know if I was going to have the courage to actually do it, myself.

I did it. I walked out of that house on Friday, June 8 with the intention of never coming back. To the point of actually leaving my house keys on the table. I never had the courage to talk to my kids dad about what was going on, I couldn’t deal with any arguing or emotional outbursts, me begging and pleading for him to let me go…I just walked out…and left my cell phone dead on the table…

So, I suppose that was something telling me I had to face him, that day….my gut was tied in knots…to say the least. I had my daughter help me kinda of pull the wool over his eyes and was back at the house when he got home…(needless to say, I had to cancel my flight for that day and I DREADED telling my son.)

So, to make this short…I faced him and said that I was going to see my son for his birthday and that I was leaving tomorrow and I needed to know if I would have a place to live when I returned.

*dead silence*

He didn’t take that well, and I don’t blame him. He said no…and to make sure that if I went, I packed up all my things and took them with me. Well, I asked him, again, same answer. He said I was doing the same thing as when I left 3 years ago.

It was nothing of the sort, but I couldn’t convince him. I left…I haven’t lived in that house since…

(According to him, I misunderstood him telling me to get out…that he only meant for me to leave and let him calm down…yea…right)

To be continued…


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