Monday, June 29, 2015
I remember the cringey moments we had together.
The time you told me there was no one less fun than me, and I responded by saying nobodys penis was less small than yours. I mean, it was the best thing I could come up with at the time. I promise if we were to fight now, 10 years later, I've matured just enough and just not enough to come up with some insults that cut much deeper.
I had forgotten about the moments that shouldn't have been forgotten about.
We loved music together. Sometimes it was different music and that would lead to some shouts. Lots of shouts. Other times, we'd hear an album for the first time together and suddenly our relationship was meaningful and healthy and we agreed about every perspective that existed until the end of the last track. I remember the first time we listened to Coldplay's album, "Parachutes". We didn't do anything else but just lay on your mattress on the floor in that $320 per-month apartment and listen to every song. That was my favorite album of that decade, and yet I can't bring myself to listen to it. It brings up so many dark moments of what I have always seen as my wasted youth. Wasted on a man that couldn't have been further from a man. Not wanting to tear myself away from my wonderful new life, I have hid from "Parachutes" for the last ten years.
Our son was just shy of his 1st birthday when I decided to leave.
Now, he's 11 years old. He has started to understand relationships and love, and the complications that surround them. He can make jokes about how his Nana has his Papa wrapped around her finger, and that basically means he'll still go get her a milkshake at 9 o clock at night, even when he's grumpy. I can no longer make hilarious sexual innuendos when he is in earshot, because he understands every bit of them and shakes his head with laughter/disgust. He knows it feels good to make a pretty girl laugh. He already knows what rejection feels like.
Along with all these new perceptions, he has discovered a deep love of music. He has a longer attention span than I do and will listen to music he has never heard before all the way through and give it a real chance. He introduced me to Queen, which I had never gotten into and now is one of my favorite bands to jam to in the car when I am with him.
He jumped in my car the other day and plugged in my phone. "Have you ever heard of 'Coldplay'?"
His fingers were flying along spotify to find the song he wanted to play me.
"Actually, yes. Your father and I went to see them in concert at least 3 times. They were one of my favorite bands"
"Wait, my real Daddy?"
"You guys went to concerts together? Just the two of you?"
"Yes, Adrian. We were married, we were like a normal married couple that did things together."
The song "Yellow" ended, and "The Scientist" started playing.
We were both staring out the window and quietly singing along.
"Did you love him, Mom?"
"Yes, Buddy, I did. But one day......I didn't. We've never really talked about this."
I pulled into the driveway and he kept staring out the window, I kept nervously talking until I noticed tears were streaming down his face and he was wiping them away, embarrassed.
I went to turn off the damn song that will make ANYONE cry, and he told me not to, that he wanted to listen to it again.
"But, Adrian, it's making you cry and we need to talk about this before we go inside! Don't be sad that we stopped loving each other! We were in a horrible place, we fought all the time and neither of us were comfortable being ourselves! We were so young and so different and just think about-"
He cut me off by interrupting me, a shocked expression on his face.
"Mom! I am not crying because I wish you and my Dad were still married. I am crying because I am so happy you AREN'T. If you were still married to him you wouldn't have married Mat and I wouldn't have have two dads or Ellis or Collins. It would be like they had never existed and thinking about that makes me so sad that I can't stop crying. And Sarah, I wouldn't have Sarah, and my Daddy wouldn't have Sarah and nothing would be right and -"
He held his face in his hands and heaved sobs into them.
I didn't even know how to respond to that except to cry a few happy tears of my own.
We passed on something bigger than a love of great music to our son. We have given him a life that he can't bear the thought of losing. Where some might see a broken family, he sees the benefit of having twice as many dads to love and twice as many moms to hug. We have never involved him in our disputes, He has only known that when he looks to the sidelines he will find both of us.
We'll always be bound together because of the amazing son we are raising. And I wouldn't have it any other way.