It’s Complicated

“It’s complicated.”  I replied.

Some people get wild.  Others get sloppy.  There are those, like my dad did, who get angry.  I open up when I drink.

A group of friends and I decided to have some drinks a few weekends ago.  It was a Saturday afternoon and we went to our favorite local bar, The Dog House, around 4:30.  Horner, Donte, Vivian, Victoria, and visiting from Arizona was her best friend Tiffany.   There were college football games on all of the televisions and music playing in the background from the jukebox.  Our conversations generally start with issues at work.  As people started to arrive, the ambient noise began to rise.  So as the drinks started to flow, the volume of our voices rose as well.  And when the drinks flow, the conversations get deep.

Horner:  “Idea...Let’s all head to my place.  I’ll order some pizza.”

Me:  “Cool.  I’ll stop by the liquor store and stock up.”

There’s a Feldman’s Liquor Store right around the corner from the bar.  I grabbed a bottle of vodka, a case of pineapple cider, and some pre-mixed cans of ranch water.  I was on Michelob Ultra that day so a case of that, too.  Horner’s place is only a five minute drive away.  Everyone was already there as I walked up with the goods.  Alexa was playing the jams and the crew was sitting on the couch.  Drinks in hand, the conversation started back up.

Horner and I asked Tiffany a bunch of questions being that we didn’t know her.  She handled it well.  I caught her leaning over and whispering to Victoria.  “Are they always like this?”  Yes.  Yes, we are.

We went around the circle asking each other questions and telling random stories.  Horner loves pushing buttons, probative and in fun and always entertaining, so there’s that element. Then, there was a moment...Tiffany dropped what seemed to be a bomb that everyone wanted to know.

Tiffany:  “May I ask you something personal?

Me:  “Everything is personal, if you’re a person.  Of course, you can ask.”

Tiffany:   “It’s been 12 years, why haven’t you been in a relationship since your divorce?”

Silence.  All eyes were on me.  It was an awkward moment because I had just stepped out of Horner’s apartment to field a phone call.  I was standing as she asked the question so it felt like I was a beauty pageant contestant on stage during the interview round.  No pressure though.  For some reason, people come to me for advice and counsel yet tell me that I’m intimidating and tip toe around asking me questions about me.  Odd space indeed.

Me:  “I’ve been in one.  It’s complicated.  I...I didn’t want my kids to have to deal with my dating ups and downs.  They have enough on their plates.  I went through it with my mother after my dad died.  And if it means that I have to sacrifice my personal life, then so be it.  I can carry the weight.”

I’ve been asked that question randomly over the years and I usually give a similar answer.  It’s an easy answer though.  I probably need to see a therapist to unpack all of this shit more honestly and accurately.

Being a good father has been the driving force in my adult life.  I’m obsessed with it.  And not in the way that obsessed is used now.  (Note:  You’re not obsessed with Starbucks, Target, sushi, or a multitude of other random meaningless things, or by definition, you’re not obsessed.  Having to say literally is completely unnecessary unless you’re talking to an idiot.  And air quotes?  GTFOH with air quotes.)  I didn’t want my kids to have my childhood.  I had to make up for my mother’s and father’s shortcomings.    I had to make up for my ex wife’s and mine as well.  At the same time, I can’t make myself a martyr.  There is nothing honorable about fatherhood when used as a shield or an excuse.

There’s another, underlying truth:  I’m scarred and scared.  I never pictured myself ever getting divorced.  Work it until it works has always been my mantra.  I couldn’t make it work.   There were years there when I was miserable.  I realized that things weren’t going to change.  To say that I was crushed is an understatement, but I stayed for the sake of my kids.

Truth:  I’m not the easiest person.  I realize that I can be a tough hang.  I’m a smart ass, a know-it-all, and not the most expressive in almost all cases.  My face has a constant scowl which makes me unapproachable.  My job is really important to me. Some people hate theirs; I love mine. It’s been there for me when my love life wasn’t. Along with my kids, it can really monopolize my time. Being with a football coach is far from easy—if you know, you know. I also go through spells when I have to recharge, and those spells lead me to disconnect and disappear.  Not because I need a break from my partner specifically, but a break from life...Sometimes an hour, sometimes a day, sometimes a week. I need the time to work things out in my head.  That’s my process.  It takes a really strong and patient person to handle the mess that is me.

Truth:  I’m a saboteur.  I have this superpower.  I can see a fake future and thwart any possible hurt before it happens.   20/20 vision of all the potential disagreements, arguments, and problems.  But how can you hold someone responsible for things that haven’t happened yet?  You ever see Minority Report?  Same premise.  Same flawed premise.  

Communication can be such a delicate dance.  As good as I am with words, language is just flat out clumsy at times.  Here is something simple, so simple that it sounds hollow and stupid, yet it is resoundingly deep if investigated and analyzed.  People know what they know...and people don’t know what they don’t know.  That includes me.  I’m people.

My friend Lacey recently mailed me a book about attachment disorders.  I can’t keep hiding behind my own ignorance of not knowing.   The only way to find out is to find out, so I’m doing the work.  Work it until it works; work it until I work.  

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