Let Them Be

I sat next to him and made nice. I didn't want to. I didn't plan on it. I never plan on it. Right before we end up at an event for our Kids I talk to myself:

"You don't want to sit next to him. He makes you uncomfortable. So don't do it!"

Then, as always, I arrive first and sit down. Then he comes in and sits next to me. He's always been late to everything. 

Sigh. 

It rarely ends up being as yucky as it feels at first. I roll my eyes inwardly and then as we focus on Kids I remember that there were times when we worked together well. We still can, if we only talk about Kids. When the conversation leaves the immediate subject of Kids, everything goes to hell. He starts telling me what to do and how to do it, or refuses to compromise about something, insinuates his control as much as he can,  and I just nod and smile until I can get the hell out. He also continues to pester me about this and that continually via text until I stop answering him. 

Inevitably when we're doing something having to do with Kids, inexplicably he starts to cry. I don't know if he's crying about the injustice of Kids having to go through their life events without married parents and what their mother DID TO THEM, if he's lamenting the years of abuse he heaped on me that caused this situation, or if he's just genuinely moved by the Kid event that is happening. 

It's hard to say because I don't ask. And I don't ask because I don't want to know. I no longer care and don't want to open the floodgates to a conversation where I will end up sobbing and wishing I'd never opened my mouth. 

That's where I always end up. A sobbing mess. I've cried so many tears for him over the years I could float a battleship. I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing that he can still move me. I know that it makes him feel powerful if he can affect me thus. 

Screw that. 

Daughter was so beautiful and silly and happy up there. Unless she locked eyes with her father. He silently admonishes her with gestures and lip reading to act appropriately: sit up straight, knees together, neat clothing and hair, angelic smile, and absolutely no goofball faces or gestures, which is what she throws my way when he's not looking because she knows it will make me laugh. 

She's a girl after her mother's heart. I'm the same way. I let the girl be who she wants to be. 

He never could do that with either child, or their mother. No one has ever been good enough for him, particularly himself. 

But that's another post. 

Sigh. 

All I can do is love and encourage them to be who they yearn to be and hopefully they won't be too damaged by who he wants and tries to make them be.