Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Home Sweet Hell

When I left last year I really wasn't sure I would ever be able to return. A rather silly thought I suppose and yet the fear of seeing the man that crushed my heart terrified me more than death itself.
I fell in love with Andy (aka the Big Bad Wolf that is now my ex) when I was a junior abroad in college. We married four years later in an over the top fairytale wedding with five hundred guests. It was the picture perfect wedding that all girls’ hope for and then last fall, the Cinderella dream came tumbling down.
The affair, which subconsciously I was well aware of and yet was unable to wrap my mind around until it was blatantly obvious and lying in my bed was, confirmed when I came home early from a business trip to discover Andy and his secretary buck naked. What happened next is just as dramatic as you might expect. Without going into all the slightly hilarious yet incredibly painful details, I will say that there was a moment of shock and horror on their faces and then a mad rush to cover up and escape without a full on chick fight.
Who we love isn’t logical and how we react after the initial shock of being blindsided is just as odd. Common sense and all the fancy diplomas don’t mean anything when you get your heart stomped on. After the reality of the affair and ultimately the divorce began to settle in I did what any super smart woman would do. I quit my cushy job (that I worked years to get), packed two suitcases and immediately left town. Every second I was there, in our apartment felt like I was living in my own personal hell. Andy had arranged for a moving truck to come in and take his possessions, because he didn’t have the balls or desire to see me in person. I couldn’t bear to watch his furniture being moved out or dealing with boxing his clothes and small wares.
To add insult to injury I heard thru the grape vine that he and the secretary got married a few weeks after the divorce was finalized and that the new wife is now pregnant. Yes, I am still dealing with this fact.
Coincidently around this traumatic time my BFF Michelle, (a hugely successful business woman) was going thru a rough patch with her husband, John, which would later result in a divorce. If her personal life couldn't get any worse JSR, her Jackass Sewer Rat former flame hit her with a bombshell.
And so a plan much like that of Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz in The Holiday was schemed up, except we aren’t on a temporary vacation, this is our new reality. Michelle moved into my apartment in Los Angeles and I moved into her waterfront condo in Miami Beach. I haven’t met Jack Black yet and Michelle is still working on finding Jude Law, but we aren’t complaining.

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