The funny thing about being separated is that there’s no-one to share the little stuff with … like the job you’ve just applied for, the kid who told you that bizarre anecdote about her enemy’s mum being in jail for selling Ice, the zombie “stick family” stickers you spotted on a car, whether the new chook is making strangled crowing noises, the gossip from your get-together with your old Cosmo mates (when you stagger home three sheets to the wind to an empty house) …
I haven’t just lost a husband, I’ve lost a best friend.
There’s also no-one to show the 50 million photos you take of your children. So you send them to your ex against your better judgement, with cute captions and then feel really weird about it.
I sent him endless text updates about the swimming carnival last week too, because who else is going to care that the eldest came last in her 100 metres freestyle heat but how awesome was that she finished it?
I wonder when it gets easier – when do you stop sending those photos and messages? When do you stop wishing he was coming home to make you a cup of tea and have a chat?
Do you meet someone new who wants to hear all the cute stories about your kid instead? I’m not sure that you do.
But I figure I’ll work out the rules eventually.
The other thing I need to work out how to pull back on the over-sharing. Like, I’m not really sure that the charity door-knocker who got me at a bad moment really needed to hear about my husband leaving me. Though he seemed completely unfazed and replied: “Maybe just $10 then?”
Or the nurse at the medical centre who was taking my blood and made the mistake of asking: “How’s work going?”
Wow did she get more than she bargained for when I launched into the sorry tale of how I didn’t have a job but should probably get one because my husband of 23 years just left me and I need to get back out there … blah blah blah blah blah.
She was very good about it though and gave me a huge hug when I left.
And I’m a bit worried I’m going to start boring my friends/sister to tears because I just rant and rant and rant.
It gets a bit old … and I should have learned my lesson because that’s one of the reasons I had problems with ex-Husband in the first place: resentment over my ranting.
So I’m going to pay someone to listen to me instead. That should help everyone out. And help me get my head around the new rules … because they SUCK.