Half proud

It is ex's weekend to have our son. They went out of town to our college's homecoming. As I was leaving ex's house at Halloween, J commented that I didn't really like our college and I must be glad to not be going. (This was his third such personal revelation, the others being about me being at ex's house and using MY dishes there as well as us going to the neighborhood by P's condo for trick or treating. Perceptive boy he is. Scary.) I replied that to me college is in the past. To his dad, it is more present. It makes sense for him to go and me not to. J seemed to understand this and I wish ex would just grow the fuck up. Our son will not attend that college. Never.

In this same vein of past intruding upon present, I got a call from an old boyfriend-type-figure this afternoon. I've mentioned Sal before. He is a progressive Middle Eastern, Arabic in tongue, but Greek Orthodox if he had faith. He works for the government here, took a government position in Baghdad for two years, then went to TX. Ever unsettled and longing for things he doesn't have, he decided to take a job back here and got here 10 days ago. He called about two months ago to tell me his plans. Things might have been different if he had called me a week ago to tell me he'd arrived and if he asked me out for tonight.

Much like in the past, pre-P but only by days, he called today for me to run over and entertain him. I knew I was not in the mood for that. He's made me feel like a pariah before and I didn't feel like being lectured about that, my weight, my lack of working, whatever, whilst he droned on about the many reasons he's unhappy in his poor little rich boy life. He has money, plenty of it, but I didn't feel like putting up with the rest just to get a dinner out. So I didn't.

He wasn't satisfied with my reasons for not going out, said I sound down, felt my excuses weren't realistic. I didn't take to being badgered.

So to the title. I am only half proud. I didn't cave to the goodness of a meal out and a potential gift, a date where there have been few and probably getting laid where there has been none, but I didn't have the words or inclination to really tell him why. A few years ago, he told me that if it weren't for THAT (the pariah bit), he'd marry me. HA! I can't be a party to someone who has the earth rotate around their whims with me being his ears. He never even realized what a good listener I am, he was so caught up in himself.

That's the other half of proud, me not speaking up. I've told him some of the stuff that made me feel bad, but I guess I never stressed it enough to make it sink in - here I'm making out to be like it's my fault he's a jerk. Wrong! Although I told him, he's clueless to how he's hurt me, how me being a last minute date makes me feel as a second thought. But he won't just stop calling or emailing periodically.

Half. But at least I'm not being subjected to it tonight, belly full and drink glass drained empty. History isn't all that.