Hamilton Mornings and Nights

It all started when we put on Regina Spektor Apple Music top ten. When the playlist got to number 1, it was an unfamiliar song, and might actually be the saddest breakup song. I looked in the backseat and even saw my daughter crying, her emotional depth is infinite, so she is easily set off, but being brought to tears by a song is new for her.

The next song, Dear Theodosia, became our family favorite. Little G and I would sing it in bed together when we woke up. The song is just over two minutes, and I said to him, "I wish this song was like 10 minutes, it's so short."
He said, "I wish it was a trillion minutes!"

This introduced us to Hamilton, because the song is from The Hamilton Mixtape, where well known artists sing the soundtrack. My heart melting reaction to Spektor singing Dear Theodosia, extended beyond what I anticipated, and I happily stumbled into the most wonderful album. When Kiki heard The Schuyler Sisters, she was hooked, and Helpless cemented her commitment. G is still big on Dear Theodosia, and lucky for us, its twice as long in the play. G added hand movements, where he sweeps his arms up and away when they say, "You'll blow us all away."

I think I have the first part of the play somewhat figured out. In Dear Theodosia Burr sings to his daughter, then Hamilton sings to his son. It took me a little while to figure this all out. "Theodosia is his daughter!! He had her with the British officer's wife, we heard about her in Wait For It."
"Where's she?" Kiki asked.
"Thats a good question. We really need to start listening to the second disc."
I think Big Theodosia might be dead... I don't want to explain to them the maternal death rate of the late 1700's, but she isn't mentioned anymore. I hope not, it seems like Burr really loves her.

I did need to explain to them that Hamilton and Burr were orphans, because they both harmonize, "My father wasn't around." Orhpanhood is not completely foreign to them, we watched Annie, but at night we had long conversations about this.
Little G seemed very concerned that one becomes an orphan if they are left at the store, and the parents don't come back for them. I explained to them, in modern times, it would be very hard for this to happen, but it's a good reason to always be right next to your adult when you go in any public space.

Selfishly, I called dibs on Eliza. Kiki said she'd be Angelica and G gets to be Peggy and Alexander Hamilton. And we each get to sing our name at the beginning of The Schuyler Sisters. Kiki really is more Eliza, and I'm more Angelica, It's becoming more and more obvious to me that, I'll never be satisfied. (listen to Satisfied -- it's so good!)

I booked a ticket to NYC for my Christmas present to myself. I went to purchase a ticket for Hamilton, and after selecting the cheapest seat in the place, I learned it has to be bought as a pair. Blasted!! So I'll Wait For It.  I should start listening to the second album anyways. I'll go back over the summer, with my kids, so they can spend some time in the greatest city in the world, with their cousins.

Before bed last week, we'd group hug and sing the first line of That Would Be Enough, "Look around. Look around, at how lucky we are to be alive right now." Then I'd try not to cry.  My daughter gets her wide sweeping emotional range from her mommy dearest. We really are so lucky.

**dabs her eye**

In Your Dreams

Old-timey jammies for my time on the wagon.

All my talk of being kind and grateful to my ex went to crap two weeks ago. It coincided with him telling me he was introducing our kids to his girlfriend. I was really sad, and it led to anger.
The timing was terrible. He told me this the day after meeting with our son's therapist, and it was in a jocular, "You're going to be so pissed when I tell you what I'm planning for tomorrow."
He was right, I was fucking pissed. Two weeks of slamming the door in his face, hanging up on him, and continually putting the lid on my rage in front of my kids.
I didn't tell him to fuck off in front of my kids, but I'm sure they picked up on my lack of eye contact, and dismissal of his small chat. "Whats that, you made quinoa salad? I don't give a fuck."

I held on to the belief we were friends, and it was comforting, but my perspective changed. I was not his friend, but I was just available to him, when he chose. So he could call me and tell me about his life, and I'd listen and be supportive. He was cherry picking, what he still wants from me, and disregarding what he doesn't. He has me, the history, the ear, the mother-figure, and then he has a girlfriend, to offer the excitement, the unknown. So when he doesn't want me, I remember, I am alone. It wasn't healthy for me to talk on the phone with him all the time.

I was under the impression it benefits my kids, allowing their dad to come into our apartment, and participate in our roundtable, but it was always on his terms, whenever he wanted to, we'd be there. I see how it benefits my kids, but I believe it gives their dad a false sense of participation. Sitting for 5 minutes at my kitchen table, strumming a finger along an eye locked iPhone, doesn't equate to being present. It's engaging in family, in the most shallow sense.

I feel bad when I hate him, it's not in-line with an "attitude of gratitude," but I can't help it. I still think marrying him was the best decision of my life. Not only because of my kids, but because I grew so much from the relationship. I learned a lot. I might have been yearning for the comforts of our unity in the last couple weeks. How it would be easier, if he were here. Just a warm body. I would be able to go to Target at 8pm if I wanted to, or go on a run at 6am. Everything is harder. I was talking with my sister two weeks ago, and really torn up, I posed the question, "Maybe I should just beg for him to come back?"

Everything she said to me I knew. I know how dumb, and repetitive that would be. It was not a coincidence that the months leading up to him dumping me, I dreamt of sharks swirling in the sky. His vacuous heart is unconfined, and all the love I gave him amounted to nothing more than a tumbleweed blowing across Nevada. I spent the last decade filling a cracked bucket.

In acknowledging the loss in my identity, and the dark path I'm on, wandering into the unknown, to discover how my identity will transform, I crawled back on the wagon. I had a fun go, but I am already terrible at drinking, so being depressed and lonely, made me terrifyingly unstable. It brings me to a dark place. I broke up with my boyfriend too because I'm not ready for this type of commitment, I really just need to find myself. I jumped right into that one, like an olympian diver off the high rise.
The afterglow of my divorce wore off, and I was recommitting to somebody else, when I know, I can't give myself away again. I had some doubts too, about our relationship. Was I falling for the man, or falling for the sex. A marriage is considered "sexless" if the couple engages in sex less than 10 times a year. As embarrassing as it is, my marriage fell in that category. It was just the way it was, and although it really bothered me, I coped. Then I met someone whose needs were much more voracious, and found he has an exceptional knack for giving me the O I had to hand deliver the last half decade.
But that O got lost in the last two months, with my mind getting stuffed, and stuffed some more, with thoughts on my marriage and realizations of my solitude. At one point I had to tap him on the shoulder, and say, "It's ok, you can stop. I'm thinking about what I need to do for my kids school. I'm not going to be able to switch my mind off right now."

When I told my sister that I broke up with my boyfriend, she was supportive, of course. She then said, "You will find the perfect person for you."
And I held up a finger, and said, "I don't think you understand. I am not doing this because it's not the right person, it's because I'm not in the right place. I am not looking for someone, the perfect included."
I called her five days later, to tell her I was heading over to his house. We're going out to dinner. And she was supportive, of course. My older sister is a lot like Samantha from Sex in the City, so in addition to saying, "You can hang out and be friends," she said,  "You can do more than just hang out too."
After breaking up last weekend, we've hung out three times since. And you know what, my O came back. It was like in City Slickers, when Curly finds his smile, and he points to his happy face as he returns to his wife. My ex boyfriend seems as happy as me to see this happen. We went to dinner after, and I told him I can't climax when I drink. He said, "Well that sounds like a fucking no-brainer to me." and I laughed and rolled my eyes, something he's found to be rather endearing.

Last night we watched a cheesy comedy, and when the girl breaks up with the boy, she said, "I really just need to work on myself right now." And we both laughed as our eyes met. He asked, "So then, if were not boyfriend and girlfriend, what are we?"
"Well, were lovers." There is no pressure or expectations,  and it has such a better ring to it than friends-with-benefits.

When I told my older brother, whose nothing like Samantha, about being single and sobriety, he congratulated me, and then advised, "You shouldn't drink for at least 5 years, and don't have a boyfriend. Don't buy into the leftist media's anti-family propaganda. Focus on yourself and your children. You also need to go to confession, weekly."
I cherry picked; 5 years sounds doable, and focus on myself and my family. Yes! Yes, I can!

Five years hardly seems daunting, and actually quite promising, last night, out to dinner, with my lover, I said, "Five years doesn't sound too long. Just think of all the stuff I can accomplish in five years, and then, I get the chance to fuck it all up. How exciting."


When I was with my kid's therapist, I told her I felt bad for having a boyfriend so soon. And she said, "Mommy is allowed to have friends," in a sing-songy-gal-pal-wine-time kind of tone that was a smidgen over the top. I don't doubt I'm sabotaging the relationship because I'm scared, but I also want to feel sad and alone for a while.

In an attempt to gain clarity I started a fast. I made it till 5 pm, which is not really fasting, but I'll try again on Thursday when I don't have to talk to anyone. Along with allowing myself to feel alone, I also welcomed feeling hungry. Feeling hunger, not figuratively, like a motivational poster of a lion clawing a zebra to the ground, with a message in bold white font on an ink black background, "STAY HUNGRY," but actual discomfort, slight pain, from my body. A pain I could easily alleviate by putting some food in my mouth. It's foreign because I, figuratively,  tend to put the band aid on all my booboos straight away. I have to let my wounds breath, not cover them up.


I hoped my fasting would lead to some insightful dreams, but I didn't make it to bedtime. Without fasting though, I dreamt a good friend and I went swimming with orca whales in a giant tank, like Sea World. It was pretty awesome. I read that whales represent a big event in life or a strong feeling of solitude, and it is a symbol that everything is going to be ok.
I also had a dream I needed to pee, and every time I ran to a bathroom, there was a long line; this means I need to find relief.

Honestly, quitting drinking was the relief I needed. In the last week, I feel a million times better. So much better, I was able to admit my anger was a response to "the introduction of a girlfriend," and said the phone calls have to stop, but we can still do the occasional family dinner, so the kids understand we are united for them.

As for the love, it is nice to have fun with someone without the expectations of a relationship, and there's much more to our friendship than making up for lost time in the bedroom. I'll stop grappling for reasons to be single, eventually, but being alone is part of my grieving process.
I might feel really lost, and scared of the unknown, but I am happy to see whales in my dreams as opposed to sharks swimming above me. The urge to return to a shit situation because I figure it's slightly less shit than my present situation, is really just lacking confidence in myself. I can do this, for the next five years at least. And then, I'll see what happens.