Bittersweet

I was thinking this morning how many of life's moments are bittersweet lately.  For every good thing or milestone, there is a painful memory attached.  I always knew that looking back on the tears would make me laugh, but never imagined that looking back on the laughs would make me cry.
I try to stay positive and remind myself how blessed I am, but can't help but fight that something inside of me that reminds me that something is missing.  All of these things happening in life right now with my children, are meant to be shared.  I know I have an amazing support group that I can count on, but that is not how it is supposed to be.
My children deserve to have two parents that are involved in their life.  They deserve to have two parents so excited to share everything with them.  Even if the parents aren't together, they should communicate and share and be able to relate to each other when it comes to their children.  It does not have to be this hard.  If I can put it all behind me, why can't he?  Why am I still treated like the Wicked Witch of the West?
8 years ago today, I found the perfect wedding dress for me and I was so excited to walk down the aisle in one month to marry my best friend.  Never did I imagine that our story would have anything less than a happy ending.  We shared everything.  Were on the same page on so many things, and our different personality types complimented each other so well.  We had already been together for 4.5 years, and I was excited to spend eternity with him.
We had so many happy memories over the years.  I can recall only a couple of truly bad memories.  I was happy.  We were happy.  Truly happy.  I do not know where it all changed, or went wrong, or why.  I can pinpoint almost the exact moment it did though.  I could feel the shift in our relationship and I started fighting like hell.  I did not know what I was fighting against, but I knew what I was fighting for.  I knew I had to fight harder than I have ever fought before.  And I did.  For months.  Even after I knew it was hopeless.  Even when I saw what I was up against, I fought.  I refused to let something ruin what we had built.  To hurt my children.  I lost.  And that was hard for me.  I don't lose.  I win.  That is what I do.  At whatever cost, I succeed.  But when it came to the most important thing in my life, I was not strong enough.  Or good enough.  Or smart enough.  Or pretty enough.  I was not "enough" of something.  That really sucks to realize.
So here I am 8 years later, looking into the eyes of my three beautiful boys and getting ready for my baby shower for my precious daughter, and I am alone.  Not literally, there are plenty of people around, but figuratively, alone.  Fighting this battle that I should never have had to fight, against the one person in the world who knows me well enough to defeat me.  The one person I ever truly let in, all the way.  The one person who knew me inside and out.  And I knew him. I know him.  The real him.  I refuse to believe that this is the real him.  That this despicable, mean, low, trashy, and  shallow person is permanent.  I can't believe that.  Not just for myself, but for the future of my children.
I try to keep the negativity at bay but it is hard.  When I look in the mirror and rub my stomach I get so happy, and then realize that her father has never once done that.  When I am spending time with the boys I feel so blessed, and then feel so sorry for them that their father is sleeping with his teenage girlfriend, or hanging out at his pool. The kids would love to see him.  For him to take them swimming or show any interest.  He blames me for this.  Says since they cannot be around his girlfriend that he cannot see them often.  And there are times I feel like giving in because they miss him so much.  But I know that is not the right thing to do.  It will not help my children to know what their dad is doing.  It will hurt them so badly to know that he has put her first time and time again.  Trust me, I know the hurt.  So I will keep fighting.  I will play the bad guy.  I will take the blame.  I will be his scapegoat.  In the end, I know that I am doing the right thing.  And that my children and I will have a great life, no matter what he does.
I know that.  I believe that.  It does not make it hurt any less.