This is my entry for Blogging for Books, something new I think I'll do every month.  This month we write about "Ex". 

My ex-husband called me up a couple days ago for a dinner date, and since he says I'm still the classiest woman he knows, of course I still get along with him, so I agreed.  He tends to call around the first of each year, and around our wedding anniversary later on in September. 

So I'm sitting here, reminiscing about our past.  We will laugh and smile and hug, catching each other up on my kid and his kid, and I will do my best to not remember he chose alcohol instead of me.  But then I have to remember that it was I who gave the ultimatum, after 2 years of me going to counseling to learn how to "detach", so I tend to respect him for finally being honest, and I could choose to quit banging my head against that wall.  Which I did.  Cause I just wasn't up to beating my head against the other walls, painted with the words "Cocaine", "Gone constantly so I was a single parent to my kid and his kid" and "Money quit being enough to put up with this life". 

There was another wall painted with "He cheated on me when I was in another state arranging my brother's funeral at Christmas time", but I didn't know it till after the divorce so it was kind of moot.  I did feel cheated out of my right to be righteously wronged, dammit.  I had to play it cool when "she" let the secret out.  About 6 months after the divorce, I had dropped by his place to drop off some pictures I'd found of his son, and there was one of his parties going on.  A girl emerged out of the pot-laden haze and asked me to take her on a beer run, since everyone there was drunk already and they were running out.  Sure.  No problem.  As she put 10 cases on the counter, I commented that he must be paying for it. 

She gushed "oh yesss, I get all the money I want out of him, he's such a sweetheart, giggle giggle!" 

Ahhh, I thought to myself, this must be the new girlfriend cause that's how he showed love... by showering me with cash, cause he'd feel guilty about the drinking, and he would also be able to say "But honey, I do love you, what do you have to complain about?  Didn't I just give you $500.00 and tell you to go buy yourself something nice?  You really can't be complaining, can you?".  Well yes, sweetie, but the money I invested in ummmm... "toys" didn't keep me warm at nite, nor did they entice him to play with me since he was in a drunken stupor most of the time.  If you know what I mean.  Wink Wink. 

Me to her: Oh how nice to meet you then, I'm his ex-wife.  Said perfectly sweetly, I swear, cause I was sooo over him.  Really, no kidding.  Or so I thought. 

Her to me:  Oh I know all about you giggle giggle.

Me to her:  Oh really, when did you meet him? 

Cause I thought if it was recent, the stories about me were probably not very kind towards me cause he tended to ummmm... exaggerate some.

Her to me:  Oh I met him two years ago giggle giggle, at Christmas time giggle giggle.  I hate to admit it giggle giggle, but I slept with him on our first date. 

She said some more things, but my ears had fogged over. 

Ohhhh reallllllly, I thought coolly.  Cool, cause I didn't react any.  Cause I'm cool that way.  Okay, never mind.  I lied. 

Me to her:  Two years ago, at Christmas time?  When I was out of town attending my brother's funeral?  When we were still married? 

Her to me:  OH!  I forgot about that giggle giggle.  Talk about putting my foot in my mouth giggle giggle. 

Me to her:  Yes, giggle giggle. 

Then I promptly burst into tears.  Cause I'm cool that way. 

As I continued to contemplate our past, I also will forget the fact that he became a millionaire AFTER our divorce, it slips my mind entirely.  Asshole.  But we DO get alone, I swear.  Ha!  My typo "alone" should have been "along", but I think I"ll let it stand cause it's probably some sort of Freudian Slip, I'm sure.  I'm famous for leaving my Freudian Slips up, cause they must mean something, and someday I'll give the list of them to my therapist, and let her figure it out.  I'm too busy figuring out how I got MS. 

So ten or twelve years later, and Thank God for time, cause it makes me remember him fondly.

He to me:  Can we go out to dinner next Friday nite?  Talk over old times, my classy ex-wife?  Whom I never should have left?

Me to him:  There you go again, re-writing history.  I left you, remember? 

I refrain from giggling cause I'm cool that way, but I want to, cause his line is about 10 - 12 years old. 

He to me:  Oh yea, have you realized what a mistake you made yet?

I laugh, cause he's so funny.  And I'm now fond of him.

Him to me:  Well, last time we had dinner you seemed to be joining the club cause you were staggering around like a real drunk. 

Me to him:  That was MS, you asshole.  Laughing cause I'm cool that way, and he's so funny.  And he knew better.  And he wishes.  Cause then we could get back to loving each other again, and slaughter ourselves on the golden brick road of mutual states of denial, running away from the real world.  And boy howdy does he get a kick out of my recent pot smoking ways, and I have to keep reminding him I do it for MS pain, I don't enjoy it, I swear.  And I HAVE to inhale, thankyouverymuch.  And boy howdy do I find it ironic, that when I need a supplier... he's quit his reefer days, cause it makes him forget things.  Like jobs.  And boy howdy do I find it hard not to say "I told you so".  Which I so do anyways, cause I'm cool that way. 

Me to him:  Shall I drive?

He to me:  Of course. 

Me to him:  Some things never change, huh?  Laughing cause I am fond of him.  But you know what it means really? 

He was always really good about not drinking and driving, so I ALWAYS drove. 

I don't find that frustrating anymore.  But what does irritate me?  The fact that he's ruined me by going on and on how classy I am, and how much he respects me blah blah blah, and so I can't take the damn money he always tries to give me.  Cause he's an asshole that way.