Time in the Tony cocoon.

A few of you noted I didn’t mention whether I’d said yes to going away for a couple of nights with Tony.

Of course, I said yes. But maybe not for all the reasons you think. Yes, I knew I would have fun. But I wanted the opportunity to say the things I needed to say – and knew it would be likely I could find the right moment.

I learned something interesting and perhaps sad about my heart – at least as it comes to Tony: it is truly slightly frozen. Maybe because he’s been around in various forms in my life for over two years, and butterflies don’t last. Or maybe it’s because he caused me pain and it’s my reasonable self-protection and practical nature at play.

But regardless the reason, I haven’t lost myself in girlish hope of something with him. Continue reading

ex boyfriend relationship

Tony.

By word count alone, I’ve written the equivalent of two long novels about Tony and me. Probably not a surprise to those of you who suffered through Chapter One and Two. While he may not be a big talker, I seem to never be at a loss for words when it comes to him. It’s romantic tragicomedy at its finest.

A fellow blogger said she let one of her friends read my blog and they didn’t believe it was real life. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this and it makes me wonder what to make of it. Am I that fantastical or unbelievable?

Hy and I talked last night about what’s going on with Tony. While I haven’t been obsessing about things with him, I know it’s important to tread carefully so am giving it some thought. Shocker. Continue reading

Monday night: Tony and a different kind of workout

I wish I could write about my new fitness regime, like some, but I haven’t quite gotten there yet. My head has been up my ass with work and life. Emotional health, but not physical. Sex has been my only exercise.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I did get back on skates last week, which was terribly nerve-wracking given my accident a year ago… but very satisfying once I did it. I was proud of myself. And didn’t fall. I’m getting on skis for the first time in 20 years this weekend…keep your fingers crossed for me.

I did pretty well with my physical health for a while. I’d been seeing my personal trainer for over a year, except my stuck-on-the-couch-because-I-was-broken phase. Last Fall, he got fired from the private fitness center he worked at because he refused to work extended hours. He was amazing and I didn’t want to work with someone else. I was also irritated at how management dealt with letting me know, so there’s been no personal training for me.  Continue reading

tony is getting a divorce

My Tony divorce thoughts

I’m sharing this here to get my thinking straight about Tony’s potential divorce. I have clarity in this moment and am sure someday I will need to come back to this post to ground myself in what I know is right.

First, given what I’ve observed in the past, Tony’s divorce will take forever to happen, assuming it even does. He took six months to fully move back in after they decided he would. He doesn’t do anything quickly.

Of course, Mary is the wild card here. I don’t know, and don’t need to know, how much of this decision is driven by her. I certainly believe the best thing for anyone, in any divorce, is to do it as quickly as possible. But this isn’t my circus and they aren’t my monkeys. Continue reading

tony is getting a divorce

Tony is getting divorced.

No, that’s not a typo. Tony, who a year ago moved back in with his wife after a separation of almost two years, is getting a divorce.

He mentioned it succinctly in a discussion about the things stressing him out. I’d known about the work stuff, but divorce wasn’t what I was expecting. Some things clicked into place – how he was able to be at my place over a weekend, and an offhand comment that we wouldn’t need to use the burner number soon.

I know the man well enough to know peppering him with questions wasn’t the way to go. I told him I was sorry to hear it. I asked if it was for real, and he said it was. I could see his tears just under the surface.

Continue reading

Magic under the summer stars. 

Claude and I were together several times over the course of a few days. We spent one full day and four evenings together. It was frustratingly comfortable and easy to be with him. I wished often there could be a way for us to practically explore a relationship together, but it is not to be.

Liam is young, and jet lag took its toll the first couple of days. He’s also a very particular eater and was not about to try the delights of Barcelona. While I already liked Claude, seeing him in “Dad mode” made me like him even more. He was patient with Liam and handled him very well. I had a peek into what he was like as a Dad and couldn’t help think how nice it would be to be around that more.  Continue reading

When attraction is timeless.

Claude rang the buzzer many flights down in our apartment building with no lift. He’s fit but it still took him a while to get up all of the stairs. He looked exactly as I expected. Yes, twenty years older, but the man I remembered. We greeted with kisses on each cheek and a lingering hug.

He said hello to Liam, who was distracted with his iPad. Claude and I went upstairs: he’d brought snacks and drinks. He was a good caregiver the few days and evenings we spent together. As independent as I am, I like a man who has the right balance of respecting me as an equal and knowing when I need water or proactively ordering me a glass of cava.  Continue reading

Claude.

He is #9 on my list. The only man who has had sex with me in three of my four decades – at 18, 24, and (spoiler alert!) 43. We missed my 30s due to marriage. My first and only serious foreign crush – one which went from desire to implementation after a few years of hoping.

We met in France the summer I was 15, on the cusp of 16. My father and step-mother had signed us all up for month-long language classes in a beautiful university town. We stayed in campus housing. In the classic style of my father, my class was supposed to be for age 18 and over, but he signed me up anyway. They never checked.  Continue reading

Dream, and make it real.

I dream, but I rarely remember them. It seems to happen only when I wake up for a few minutes, then go back to sleep.

Last night I slept the fitful sleep of someone who had two wine dates with girlfriends in the same evening. At 3 am I drank lots of water and took ibuprofen to avoid the inevitable over-imbibing headache.

I dreamt I was traveling to Faraway Lover’s town. My hotel room phone was missing the handset, so I went to the lobby and asked for help to make a phone call. I ended up in a call center, where I tried to call his number. It didn’t work: I couldn’t get through.  Continue reading

Wondering is worse.

I blocked Tony last night.

Originally I wasn’t going to. He’d  promised to be in touch shortly after our last conversation “next week I will come see you; I will figure it out”. I knew it was unlikely he’d be in touch exactly when he said, but I wanted the opportunity to explain I couldn’t be his friend because despite everything, I’m still in love with him.

But he didn’t call. It’s almost two weeks later. I’ve learned he experiences time differently than I; my days tend to be packed full of life and therefore two weeks seems like forever. He isn’t on any jobs right now and his days just blend one into another. I often have to look at my calendar to remind myself not as much time has passed as I think.

I knew he would get in touch at some point and expected it would be this week. Continue reading