Tuesday, May 23, 2006

No further than a wanton's bird

After work, I met up at the library with the Ex, who is (obviously) back in town. And pregnant, I failed to mention that in this space. No, it's not mine. Anyway, she gave me the signed and notarized papers that the Friar had drawn up for me.

The Maddening Angel called me and met me at the library at the same time, so she watched my interaction with the Ex. She commented that it was unusual to see a divorced couple talking so freely and laughing so freely. It is true that the Ex and I seem to make each other laugh, but I will always resent her for making horrible, and then throwing away, what could have been something good. These last three years were supposed to be a time of getting back on our feet and then moving forwards; instead she crippled us with debt and then abruptly left. Still, while I am angry, life's too short to be needlessly rude.

MA and I went out to eat at some nasty Texican place that probably made me ill. Then we went to the book store together and I got some terrific deals from the bargain section. She wanted me to come watch a movie, but I declined.

Later that evening, she called me and we talked about how she was lonely and had been considering calling up her ex Cokehead. I told her that, while I wasn't saying she should do it, it wasn't the worst idea I'd ever heard. We all like to fall back on comfortable, if not entirely beneficial, habits when we're down. Again, I got the sense that she probably would have liked me to volunteer to keep her company instead, but I've been down that road, and there's no exit with my name on it. So although I disdain Cokehead for being the creepy prick he is, poor MA could at least use a pair of arms to fall asleep in, I guess.


Added to blogroll: the wonderful My Brilliant Mistakes. Man, my sidebar's getting long. I find that three or four blogs that I put on this page stopped publishing soon after; whether there's causation or not is hard to say for a solipsistic fool like me. Still, if some of those old haunts don't vacuum out the cobwebs soonish: chop-chop!

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