Oh, drama. . .

Okay, so I’m managing the miscarriage all right. I really am. The first week was pretty tortorious, but I’m really, truly okay.

Do we have another child? That desire (one day) is now there. Oh, pregnancy loss, why do you make me yearn to breed?

What’s been occupying me over the past weeks and why have I not updated anything here? What’s the root of the sadness I posted about?

It’s a long story. Go get yourself a drink (a stiff one), a snack—go to the bathroom. Settle in.

Back in August, I met a guy I’ll call Tom. Tom is a single father, his girlfriend at the time was struggling with a mental illness—we clearly have a lot in common. He does yoga and has Friday’s off, so we would meet for an hour and have lunch on Fridays.

This lasted three Fridays.

A was furious, but apparently kept quiet for a while. Come the Thursday after the Occupy Wherever movement started, I was with my entire family, protesting, etc. Life was good. Tom was there too and said something like, “Our usual lunch tomorrow at Cool Place in Town?”

“Yeah!” I agreed, waving at cars that supported the cause.

We went home and A was very doting on the children, and very short with me. When I inquired what was wrong, he wouldn’t tell me.

Around 9pm, he told me. He doesn’t want me having lunch with Tom, that’s a date.

Okay, I said, I won’t.

But could we leave it at that? Of course not. A proceeded to talk at me for two hours or so. I attempted to have a calm discussion, but I could no more get three words out with him interrupting.

So I shut up. Why talk when no one will hear you? Why talk when he clearly wasn’t interested in what I had (still have) to say?

We made up, but the issue wasn’t totally solved. I had agreed no more contact with Tom except if I run into him (non-planned) at the Farmers Market. This, I thought, seemed okay.

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. .  .

Last Wednesday, I was at the Farmers Market. I ran into an old friend, and called A to let him know this friend of ours would be over that evening. Then I ran into Tom, who called to me and said hi. I acknowledged him and we talked briefly.

That’s when I noticed A in the background. He fucking left work to “check” on me.

What the hell?

A started to walk away even though he heard me call out to him (mature) so I followed him. He kept saying “I’m not talking about it in public.”

uh, okay. You’re the one who made the scene, not me. You’re the one who doesn’t trust me, apparently, though I’ve never done a single fucking thing to not deserve your trust.

We get home, he’s going on and on and on. Apparently, I had “liked” something Tom liked on the Occupy page on FB earlier in the day. A took this as a signal that we were going to meet up.

When he told me this, I was astounded. “Did you really think that?” I asked. “Do you know how scary that is?”

Yes. Yes he does. But he can’t help his thoughts, and I learned from B that I cannot help him.

I feel grounded, because my psychologist thinks I’m handling everything appropriately.

But I feel really, really hurt. He doesn’t trust me—what do we have if he doesn’t trust me? What is it about this situation that makes him still hate Tom (to whom I’ve had no contact with since last week)? What is it about Tom that “triggers” him?

I am so damn frustrated. We have to talk about this, and we can’t insist “I’m right.” I can’t, and he can’t. We need to really talk about this.

I just don’t know if A can calm down enough. This side of him is a total, unexpected surprise.