The EX

The trip back to the old home town to deal with problems, (see past blogs), brought up a thought. An odd pondering as it were. Something that had not occurred to me, nor had actually happened to me up until this time.
How do you deal with the Ex when He's...friendly; and seems maybe just a bit too familiar in his behavior? Or actually, how do you deal with the thoughts that arise from your dealings?
The meeting was a necessary evil as it were. Ex was over at the daughter's house, with whom I was staying, to do some yard work for her. We are at this juncture on civil terms.
Time has past. Wounds have scarred, if not healed over. Ex is widower of just over a year's time. We are both of over 50+ year's of age.
Time to act like grown ups and be civilized. Let bygones be bygones after all these years, I suppose. And I have always refused to hate Ex. He is one half of my daughters. To hate Ex would be to hate half of their being, their very existence. I can not, can never do that. They are and always will be my life.
But, to return to the subject.
We had a missing cat on our hands and so the yard work was delayed. Ex was outside; unloading equipment; while we "girls" cat searched. No grass could be cut in case she had escaped outside for fear she'd scoot away and be forever lost. The grandest daughters would be heart broken, so the search was on for la cat.
I was sent out of the house, after about 30 minutes, to tell Ex that the cat had been found. He was free and clear to go about his yardly duties.
Instead, Ex turned suddenly and stopped me as I turn to go back into the house. He just wanted to know if I was, "all right." He was, "worried about me." Apparently Ex could still," after all these years remember what my face looked like when I was worried or under stress." According to Him, I, "needed to take care of myself and not worry about Him and the Girls." "They would be fine." He just wanted me to take it easy and let Him help me how ever He could, etc.
Then there was the flattery. He approves of how I've held up apparently. I'll not bore you with it. I cut Ex short, so it matters not anyway.
There was also the sharing with me the news of His progress on the dating scene. While I'm glad He's out and about; I'm not sure what I have to offer Him on that score. I'm married; I don't date.
That was pretty much the gist of things. Oh, there were two phone conversations, during my stay. Just attempting to check up and make sure all was well with this old war horse. And I like to think He meant well, but I wasn't comfortable making small talk. So I babbled. I'm good at babbling.
Part of me is amazed that two people who once shared a married life for 18 years, intimate life longer, knew every inch of and mirrored the other person, are now such total and complete strangers.
I haven't the foggiest of what He does or doesn't like anymore or vice verse. Where once two people could sit down after a meal and chat or pick a television show to watch; now... nothing. We finished each others sentences; read each others thoughts; and laughed at the same times. We had planned our lives so carefully from teenage to retirement. Then....BOOM!
We have so little in common now; we might have never as well have met.
And that was in my thoughts while he was speaking to me, I'm afraid. I heard His words. But, they came from a greater distance than from where He stood. I was searching His face. I'm afraid I was looking with more than a little curiosity for a glimpse, even a small one, of the man I once knew; once loved.
But, all I saw was a stranger with gray hair and thick glasses. The voice was familiar. The intonation was different. Maybe because the feelings directed at me had changed? Or maybe the feelings I felt in the direction they came from had change? I do not know.
But the change was there. It was as concrete as the driveway upon whence we stood.
And if it's come to that place; that's where I feel it should stay. The oddness; uneasiness comes from the sudden need for Ex to hug when we meet and such. I'm not into that. I need my distance. I'm not a stranger hugger. I always tighten up and pull back.
Maybe that's the reason for this writing. Maybe I've twirled and whirled it all around to this. The arms that held me for all those years and through all those things; are now unknown entities. They belong to a stranger now.
And I think maybe a little voice is reminding me that we're supposed to be wary of strangers.
OnceAgain