The Fuck Fairy is the fairy that brings you shitty luck. When she's hovering over you, nothing goes right for you. Some may say the Fuck Fairy visited me an awful lot in 2008.
First off my marriage fell into a stinking heap after less than a year. That's soul destroying. It hit me at my core. That's as bad as it gets isn't it?
Then I had the excruitiating embarassment of finding out my ex husband asked out one my work colleagues only a few weeks after we split up. She was on of my team members, and I had confided to my ex husband that she was having marriage troubles she was working through with her husband. I cannot describe how truly uncomfortable the conversation was when she told me what had happened. She was full of forboding as to whether she was doing the right thing in telling me. I felt just about as low as you can get. It caused another whole layer of angst and another massive hit to the ego after my marriage collapse.
I confronted him about it of course, but I didn't give him the pleasure of knowing how deeply it had affected me. He told me he'd always thought my work colleague was a good chick, and had fancied her a bit, and advised that he didn't have his own circle of friends to draw from. I told him to find himself a new circle of friends.
I then had the sad awakening that I needed to make a court application to protect my assets - my house and eveything in it - from future claims by my ex husband. This is even though my ex husband did not make any financial contributions at all to them! Yes, a pre-nuptual was something I'd thought about, but had never got around to! It was a horrible feeling to know that I had left myself so exposed on every level. I got told by one lawyer to be prepared to part ways with a tidy sum of money in order to get a consent order to protect my primary assets. As he made his observations into his recorder, he spelt out in cold, hard facts how I'd helped my ex husband set up his business whilst paying off my own mortgage and nearly 100% of the running costs of the house, and then to summarise, he labelled me a "cash cow". I can't tell you how stupid, and demoralised I felt. At that point, I really did feel like a big, dumb cow.
My mum and sister made me feel a little better about it. My sister encouraged me to plod on and get through it, and that I could then put it behind me. My mum encouraged me not to be down on myself. She told me that I'd done it for love and that it was gorgeous. Those words helped. On a brighter note, the $3k I spent on legal fees resulted in me keeping my own assets. It took at least 2 months to resolve, but it was worth it.
My brother dropped around for a rare visit about 4 weeks after the break up. He told me that my sister wouldn't have stopped nagging him unless he visited me. He brought flowers for me to help cheer me up. He told me my sister was worried about me because I appeared to be too happy considering the bad things that had happened to me, hence he was visiting to ensure I wasn't in danger of topping myself. Yep, that's what he said. That's just how my brother is. And I've always appreciated his honesty and ability to cut through the bullshit. My sister called me daily at first, and then she gradually let go once she was reassured that I was genuinely coping, and wasn't going to do anything really silly to myself.
Believe it or not, my Aries impatience saw me launch myself back out onto the dating scene without much trepidation. Why? I still don't know why. My beautiful sister set me up with a guy she said was really nice, and that she approved of. She said he had his life together. Mind you it is not usual for my sister to intervene in this way. I guess that she was just awfully sick of seeing my poor choices in men, and how it had so negatively impacted on me. She thought she could pick someone better for me. We had a lovely date. He asked me out on a second date. I told him I'd love to catch up with him again. He said he'd call me tomorrow. I'd have to say I was on an emotional high. My spirits lifted. I had some bounce back in my step. A sense of anticipation. Something to look forward to when everything was pretty bleak. I couldn't wait to get home to receive the call. I never heard from him again! That's bad. My already battered ego took the kind of hit it wasn't ready for. Can your ego go into a negative balance? I think so. It really messed with my mind, just when my mind was pretty messy as it was. It wasn't the band aid I needed. My wound opened further.
You might be surprised to know that this didn't send me back to my cave to lick my wounds and regather. Oh no, next I decided to take a silly leap and post my profile on RSVP. Before I knew it, I was getting all sorts of attention. It was exciting. A new world of possibilities was opening up. Before long, I got a kiss from a guy who really picqued my interest. He seemed nice and sensible, and we seemed to have a lot in common. He was a vegetarian like me and owned two dogs just like me, and he was arty with a scuplting hobby! Once again my Aries impatience saw me agreeing to a date with him after just one email exchange. We meet at a dog park with our dogs. Within the first 10 minutes I wanted to kick his two Schniezers right out of Ruffy Park. If you know the park, you'll appreciate the ferocity of the kicks needed to knock 'em out of the park!! They were the most yappiest and undisciplined dogs I'd ever come across. And first impressions of "artymarty" (his RSVP profile name) weren't good either. However, my ex husband was the kind of guy that turned heads - a mix of Harrison Ford (in his younger days) and George Clooney. This time, I didn't want my passion to overtake good sense, so I was prepared to look deeper than the outer skin this time! However, my first thought was that his photos in his profile were the best possibles, if you know what I mean!!! Still, he didn't look like an axe murderer so I trudged on,and kept an open mind.
It turned out he was a long termer on RSVP. His sculpting was science fiction related. His latest work was a time machine complete with flashing lights. He was going to include his "sculpture" in a self directed mini movie. He asked me if I had a big kitchen. Let's say the conversation wasn't as free flowing as I'd hoped. When he asked me on a second date, I agreed to, but without enthusiasm. He said he'd be in contact.
My motto was to keep an open mind, and not just to decide on future possibilities after just one date.
Only half an hour after returning home, I got an SMS invitation to his home the next night where he wanted to cook me dinner. I have another friend that says that a home dinner invitation is actually an invitation to "fuck". As worried as I was, I still agreed. That night I got another email wishing me 'sweet dreams'. I felt like I was suffocating. Luckily, good sense prevailed and I backed out before it went any further.
It was at this point, that I decided to take a step back. You'll see from past postings, that by blogging I brought out, and dealt with a lot of my emotional hurt and gave myself time to heal myself, and get back on track.
My synopsis: It would be easy to put it all down to a run of back luck, brought on by repeated visits from the Fuck Fairy. But with distance and clarity, I know that my disastrous 12 months was brought about by my own decisions. By trying too hard to make the unworkable work in my relationship, by trying to live two lives, over-compensating for my ex husband's past set backs, and seeing things way too optimistically. I guess I got the reality check I needed. I've learnt the hard lessons,without becoming hardened, and that's important.
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