The Bad Guy

The bad guy; every ending of a relationship has to have one, right? But let me ask you this, why in the hell does it always have to be me? This subject comes up for a couple of reasons, one being that ex-husband number two called on Sunday after having, literally, disappeared for nearly six months. I mean, I had heard rumors and talked to friends and some of his family before finding out where he was, and even then could not pin an address down for him for approximately two months. One of those classic examples of “the family” closing ranks around him like he was some wounded animal who was being hunted down for his pelt. Which, okay, wounded he might have been (though I have doubts about that one as well), and yes, I was hunting him down, but certainly not for the quality of his pelt! Basically I was looking for him to do the job of Child Support Services, who for some reason, with their vast resources, couldn’t find him. I digress-my annoyance with the whole Child Support management is one for another post. So with one thing and another (all right, he got booted out of his moms house, the doctor he was seeing there refused to treat him any longer because he was lying to get drugs and abusing his staff, and his girlfriend took off and said if he didn’t quit stalking her, she was filing a restraining order), he is back in Idaho and called my house on Sunday. I was not home, but called him back when I got there, and the first words out of his mouth were, “Are you just going to be a bitch or can we talk about seeing my son?” I told him I guess I was just going to have to be the bitch, because he has walked out on his son for the last time…and he said a few choice words and hung up on me.

So in his mind, I am the bad guy, the one person in the world who is keeping him from seeing his son. And yes, right on the surface, I absolutely AM. But what he can’t get, and never will, is WHY. He left, more than once, and has never once stuck around to deal with the fall-out. He hasn’t been the one to try to answer an 8 year old (and 7,6,5,4…)boy when he asks why his daddy doesn’t love him. Or wonders why his dad would drive past the house and WAVE on the way to his girlfriend’s house and not stop. He has been in and out of Sam’s life so much since our divorce that I just can’t allow it to keep happening, yet he can’t see that this decision is based on his own actions, the consequences of his own poor choices. I think it mostly has to do with this image he has of himself as the Devoted, Loving Father who Tries to See His Son but the Ex Won’t Let him-we all know the type, the kind of man that women swoon all over and feel sorry for because he has been SO mistreated….

But you know? I have this totally great 8 year old boy who loves me, who thinks I am just the next closest thing to God, and if keeping this kid, this awesome, beautiful, funny kid protected from his own father, well, then I guess I can embrace the bad-guy persona; it is worth it.

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