So here I was thinking things were going ok. I'm dosed up on antidepressants, I'm seeing an RE, I'm seeing a marriage counselor, what's the next best thing that could happen to make things blow up in my face? Oh yes another PGer. But wait, it gets even better. It just so happens that it's the couple we do everything with. They live 3 houses down from us and we see them probably 3-5 times a week. They tried, wait, count it with me 2 MONTHS, F**K it all to H*LL. And how does my lovely husband decide to tell me....
I got home from school to find him gone, called his cell he wouldn't answer, so I called our friend and what do you know they went to lunch together. So out in the middle of the yard, Rob goes
Rob: "Guess what babe, we need to take them to dinner to celebrate."
Me: "Did he get the job?" (He's applying to another position with Verizon)
Rob: "No, they're pregnant! Isn't that great. Now we can raise our kids together."
Me: "Rob, we don't have kids, we are seeing an RE, it could be months or years from now. I have to go."
And I proceed to run into the house with tears streaming down my face, while Rob and our friend are left standing in the yard. I then had a full-blown panic attack for 2 hours straight.
Wonderful, just wonderful. And to top it off we had a counselor appt that afternoon. I don't want to see them, I don't want to talk to them, I don't want anything to do with them. I'm a horrible person, I'm a horrible friend, but if it keeps me from falling apart everyday, from being angry and wanting to break or destroy something, then so be it. It wouldn't be the first friend that I've lost because they were PG. What's another one added to the list gonna do?
656th Friday Blog Roundup
1 day ago