Welcome Back, I Said Never

You know the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when your cheating asshat of a husband is due to come back into town and you're dreading it? What, you don't have a cheating asshat of a husband? Count yourself very lucky then.

I spent some time the other day removing Army Boy's photos from my digital picture frame at work. Very cathartic, deleting his digital presence and slightly ironic since he's the one that gave me the digital frame for Christmas one year, back when I thought he actually loved me. I haven't taken his photos off the digital frames at home. I think that would be too weird for the kids to have him erased from their lives too. I can avoid looking at his cheating smarmy face easier at home than I can at work so it's tolerable.

Unfortunately Army Boy is like a bad penny or a ghost that won't go away because every now and then his Asshat of a face shows up on the frame on my desk, inches from my elbow. I see it out of the corner of my eye, and then I curse and yell (internally), "I missed another one! Fuck!" One day when I get up the energy, I'll attempt take two of wiping his digital image from my work existence.

My stomach does flips when I think about hearing from him that he wants to see the kids. It's been a good ride for the month he's been gone, a freeing liberating time, devoid of anxiety and the restraint of forcibly making myself not emasculate him when I see him. That time is drawing to a close. I believe he's coming home today. His sister thought it was a few days ago... so nobody really knows when the Ghost of Douchebag Present will ride back into town on his midlife crisis motorcycle, but I'm sure I will feel a disturbance in the force and that's my sign that he's returned.