5 months, 2 rooms, 1 house

SO, I get this bomb dropped on me May 23 around 5:15 pm on a Friday going into Memorial Day weekend. By 6:00, she had some bags packed and left for her mom's with the kids and left me in the house alone with the taste of vomit still in my mouth and throat contemplating this. I was in shock. The real kind where nothing processes because everything has just been overloaded. So I drove to 4 different stores and bought 4 packs of smokes. I had quit in Jan. Picked up a case of beer. And went to the basement and played PS 2. I hadn't turned it on in years.

On Monday she came back and we talked, I was still pretty mentally fucked up, but it was " We are going to separate rooms". I moved my shit. Not because she made me, but because she was nursing who I thought was my one month old son and I felt that she needed to be comfortable and everything was in the master bedroom.

My daughter adapted very quickly. Pretty much because the spare room was next to hers and she took to sneaking in and getting in bed with me. It wasn't to bad considering Ex was on maternity leave and I was getting up at 3:30 a.m to do job search and resumes and then leave at 5:00 for work.

But that single roof......that wasn't the best idea, in hindsight. I said a lot of things out of shear anger. Just to hurt her feelings, because I wanted her to feel like I did

"I'm fucking leaving and not giving you shit as far as money"
"How Am I supposed to pay the bills"
"Fucking turn tricks, all you need to do is charge for it now"

"Get the fuck out. I don't give a shit where you go. You'll be creative with the rent I'm sure"

And of course the expected, "Whore"

There were a lot more and I can't remember them because as I said, I was pretty mentally fucked up. The worst part, I was screaming when I would say these things, and my three year old was in the house. I feel horrible about that.
(Before they moved we did sit her down and explain to her that this was one of the reasons they had to move because Mommy and Daddy didn't say nice things to each other and we knew it hurt her feelings. She really is much happier now)

There was no conversation that we could have that didn't turn south quickly. Especially after the test results came back after three of the longest weeks of my life. In my favor (against all odds but I won't go into that) and then the anger set in.

Now that I had something to be angry about, I would literally see in red. I thought that was some creative expression, but no, you can genuinely get that mad. And the roller coaster started, I would get angry, say something, apologize, try to discuss what property we wanted. Then a fight over that would start about what was fair and why one should have it over the other, or the monetary value, and the "well if you get this, I'm taking that". And that would be done out of pure spite. Then a name was called and she would go to her cozy ass suite and leave me with the rest of the house, and nothing was accomplished. Mind you, this was a two way street, I didn't start or finish all of them.

Of course for me, I was REALLY fucked up about the kids. "You're taking them from me, and you're gonna give them to someone else". When I found out that she was still talking to the guy, I would add in "and you already got him picked out, their new dad".

I said that shit a lot and she of course would come back with "Ridiculous" and "You will ALWAYS be their father" and all the same shit any normal person would say. The one that always kept bringing me back from wherever my brain had gone during one of these was "You will be allowed to see and have them whenever you want. If YOU choose not to, that is your choice."
I knew she was serious, her father left when she was 6. She saw him a few times until she was 19. Not since. He doesn't even know he is a grandfather. She and her mother have tried to find him. Her mother still tries. So I knew deep down, I wasn't going to loose the kids, I was just trying to start a fight and make her feel bad.

Now, 10 months later, I KNOW I'm not losing my kids, they are mine. I have the genetic material to prove it. Ex and ES (I'll just give him his "POSSIBLY" real initials ) are in a serious relationship as she has told me, so I've asked to meet him. Not to scare him, or grill him or anything like that, but because he is part of my children's lives. They like him. He could end up their Step Dad. I have the right to meet him. HE isn't ready yet. I find that amusing. I take it as he's scared. Oh well.
I've thought about ONE thing I would like to say. I won't really do it, and it stems from a lot of the sometimes horrendous experience I've had. I can sometimes find humor in bad situations.
Imagine this:

We meet and I tell him [great, whatever, all this all that] and don't worry about how I feel about you with the kids. I know I am their father and always will be. Shit, I have a paternity test with both our names on it to prove it for one of them. We could make it a set.

That may come across as pretty harsh, you think? I'm grinning and giggling as I write it.

Looking back, she really should have gone to her mom's and stayed. I had nowhere to go. I have a feeling that had we known then, what we know now, she would be inclined to agree. Or at least had a referee present.