Rear View: A 2018 Summary

Ah, the end of another year is upon us once again, and in true Fontana fashion, it ends on a sour note. I'd say things have come full circle, but in reality, it's been a pretty fuckin' jagged line.

Since my blogging habits are so irregular, let's start with what's new.

• I landed an office manager job in a new company.  The pay leaves much to be desired, but I'm alone all day, it's not busy, my boss makes for amazing eye candy, and he seems to be a decent guy so far who fully sanctions naps on the job. #WINNING
• I'm still alive and somehow making ends touch. Barely. I have yet to move into a refrigerator box.
• I turned 40 a week ago. A small handful of people managed to show up for me, so it will be easy to trim the fat now that it's purging season.  It's nice to know who my friends actually are.
• My daughter turned 21 and still hasn't done anything with her life. She moved her boyfriend in, and they got a dog.  I like both of them more than her.
• My son was t-boned in a car accident.  I'm now convinced that Ford trucks are tanks in disguise.  He's fine.  The truck still drives. They both live.
• I'm only half single now, if that's a thing.  I've been seeing someone casually (but exclusively) since September. We haven't put a label on it. It's whatever. My bells aren't jingling until it's official.

Enjoy that bit of good news? Good. Wallow in it for a while...My next updates are way less chipper.

  My friendship with Poppa has wheezed it's last breath and died in a spectacular fashion, like buckshot to the chest.  

Things were going great.  We were super close again, and I would dare to say things were getting to a place where they were even better than before.  I almost lost him to a stroke, and was there for every step of the hospital stay and rehab until he was good on his own. We spent days just vegging at his house watching movies, something we've never really done. We were good. Solid. But 12 hours can change everything.

Without going to far into it because it's private, an incident occurred at my house between my daughter and I, and because of shitty Illinois mandates, I was led away in handcuffs and spent a very long night in lock up. Poppa was with me, as much as he could be, through the whole thing, offering up bail and a place for me to stay for the weekend to allow space to cool off. Unbeknownst to me, he was also in contact with my daughter, who gave him one side of the story.  The details of that night are not something I'm proud of, but in my defense, I'm only human, and can only take so much abuse from someone who literally needs me to stay alive. I digress.

Upon getting home the next day, the first thing I needed to do, before showering, before breaking down, eating, etc., was call Poppa. I knew he was probably worried and wanted to know what was happening, and I wanted to let him know I was good and wasn't in prison stripes. Mostly, I just needed his brand of comfort. It was pretty much the only thing I craved more than that shower.

It was like a switch was flipped; he completely turned on me.

I understand that what happened that night was fucked up, and again, my only defense is just being a mom who's had enough disrespect from my good for nothing adult child, but I can see why he would be disappointed with me. Some things are expected. What I got from him was completely blown up and uncalled for. If I ever needed him to be my friend, it was that morning, and he failed in epic fashion. This, from the same guy that displaced an ENTIRE APARTMENT COMPLEX WITH A BOMB THREAT when his wife left him. And where was I then? Barefoot, coatless, in a police station with my kids in the middle of winter, with every reason to hate him, every reason to tell him to go to hell, but I didn't, because I know stress and grief fuck up your logic and reasoning. I could have thrown that in his face and I didn't.  I kick myself for it now, because shockingly, this story gets better, and the twist will fuck your world up.

We quit talking that day, because there's no coming back from that kind of hurt. He maintained contact with my daughter, under the guise of 'checking on her'...and I started putting some pieces together, finding myself more and more disgusted with each step. 

TL;DR, Poppa has a boner for my kid, and has for a while. I called him out on it, and he didn't deny it. He's known her since she was SEVEN. Little comments and actions started to add up, and it's like it finally clicked. Just thinking about it now makes me convulse. I'm sickened. 

I don't mourn him, for obvious reasons, but I do mourn the friendship that was, when I thought he was normal. He was a constant for me (mostly), but fuck if that didn't explode like a fucking landmine. His shitty support threw our friendship in the grave, but this was absolutely the nail in the coffin. He needs help, and I hope he gets it.

Can't have a story about Poppa without one about Flaco. This one stings.

Flaco and I have had some amazing times this year.  I was honestly starting to become convinced that it was finally our time, and things were gonna happen. I told him I loved him, and he gave me more attention as a result.  I took that as a great sign.  We talked all the time, went out, hung out, kissed, laughed-alot. We started sharing things and opening up. It was becoming everything I wanted with him, and after 14 years, I was finally getting it. 

Then it all just stopped. No warning, no preamble.  We haven't had an actual conversation since the end of September, and haven't spoken at all since October. My messages have all been ignored. I have all of our texts since March saved in my phone...I can't bring myself to erase them. It's kind of pathetic and I know it.  I'm afraid that getting rid of them means this past year didn't happen...the idea of that guts me.

He's dating someone else.  They've met each other's kids.  Post about each other on social. I know we were never official, but damn...didn't I at least deserve a goodbye? Did I mean that little?

The fact that this happened right around the same time as Poppa has hit me like a double blow, and it's so weird to me how two people who hate each other could manage to sync up so well and decide I was no longer worth speaking to, without ever having a conversation. But I'm the one who lost in the end. Poppa I could handle, thanks to my anger.. losing Flaco, especially like this, just fucking hurts. I try not to dwell on it, because you can't miss something you never really had, right?

But I did.  I did have him for a while. Official or not. Poppa used to warn me that something like this would happen...this is what I get for brushing it off.

I spend alot of time alone, and the loneliness gets pretty crippling.  The new guy and I don't spend a ton of time together, partly due to scheduling issues, and partly because I tend to keep my distance because hes wishy-washy and I find it annoying. I don't want to put all my chips on someone who's still on the fence about what he wants. I wish every damn day that someone will just fucking show up for me. No bullshit, no games, no 'let's be friends with benefits', someone who just sees me, and wants me, dings and all,, and is really willing to copilot this bullshit with me. I've had SO MUCH thrown at me over the last year, so much hardship and struggle and shitty luck and disappointment, and I've powered through all of it and managed to stay standing, but this is the ONE THING that brings me to my knees every time. I know you're not supposed to need someone, but I do.  Not to validate me, but to make me feel human again. I've gone so long without real, honest to god intimacy that I don't remember what it feels like. I freeze when I get actual physical affection because I forget what I'm supposed to do for a second, and once I remember, in my head I'm begging them not to let go. You don't know how necessary those two things are to your basic humanity until you're without them for this long, and getting a taste of them feels like a feast.

This is what I hope for in the coming year.  I'm not wishing for anything 'practical'- I could give a shit about financial stability because I've never had it anyway. Wishing for wealth and prosperity is for suckers, and I don't need to be 'new' because I'm good the way I am.  I just want love. I want and need someone who is all in, ready for the hard stuff, ride or die. If it doesn't happen this year, that will be my sign that it never will, and I'll resign myself to being alone. Until then, I'll keep my heart open and my fingers crossed, and hope for the best by this time next year.

I'm out.  Stay tuned for 2019: Chapter 1.

Happy New Year.