The Contingency Plan

sometimes it's overwhelming to sit in my house.

alone.

i think of the woman. the one on the other side of the bridge. blonde and with an irish accent. bathing my child and holding the man that i loved for so long and the void i feel drowns any sense of achievement i may have experienced that day.

they went away together over new years. thailand. seven days and luc didn't even inform me of the trip. i figured out after the fourth day of worried, unreturned phone calls. i started my new job two days after they left and he was supposed to look after our son.

thank god for my mother.

he never once took me on holiday. seven years. and still owes me two months of child support, despite the four new guitars, holiday and brand new digital camera. i had to meet with my lawyer today to discuss next steps and could barely discuss the details.

he still denies a serious relationship between him and the blonde. no, they don't live together despite her underwear in the laundry and mail on the floor. he still loves me, even though he's tried to blackmail me for custody of our child.

there are so many little stories, comments and arguments that jar my senses. i've taken up smoking. not whole cigarettes, just halves or quarters at a time.

during the day no one knows the wiser. but i long for the loneliness now, for when i take off my heels and unravel.