Every Friday it rolls around – the weekend. Along with the weekend comes the knowledge his work stops and they’re home together. No matter how many times he tells me they co-exist, she does her thing and he does his, I know they sit together, on opposite couches, each evening and watch movies. He calls it “safe” meaning they watch, don’t talk, and don’t interact beyond the shared experience.
I find things to keep myself busy and distracted. Lately, that means filling my time with meaningless dates. I’d feel bad if it weren’t for the fact I know what they will be doing, alone, together. Coupled with the fact most of these guys are out for one thing and stupidly think I don’t know or care.
Maybe I’ll get lucky one of these weekends. Maybe she’ll tell him to pause the movie, explain she’s met someone else or decided she no longer wants to live in their hollow shell of a marriage and she’s moving out. Maybe I’ll get his message saying one or the other of my imagined fantasies and he’s free.
Or maybe one of my filler-dates will actual turn out to be with someone decent, kind, actually interested in a meaningful, honest relationship. He’ll sweep me off my feet, convince me to give him my undivided attention, I’ll be comfortable to trust him to be real and not misleading, and I’ll message him and tell him we’re through.
Or maybe the world will stop spinning and we’ll all fall off into outer space!
Yes, I know, this is all a huge stretch! I can’t help but dream. Our Mondays and Tuesdays are awesome! Our occasional trips out of town together are amazing! The thought of her eventually leaving and them divorcing keeps me focused on the reason I continue to see him and hope for the day we can move forward together, without any distractions.