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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
That's What She Said
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Thursday
Dec152005

It's Not All In The Details

There was a time when I had to know everything. It was a relationship requirement, a relationship ritual for me. What was SHE like? Was she funny? What were you like together? What was sex like? Was she loud in bed? Was it the best you've ever had? Did you fight? What about? How many have there been? All the while I'd compare myself, run a mental tally on her pros and cons against my positives and negatives.

Boyfriend Boxes have been systematically devoured. You know, the shoebox you stumble across in his closet, under his bed, in his garage... The box full of old letters, pictures, momentos of past relationships.

I wanted my lovers to be consumed by me. Wanted all of their attention focused on me. Wanted me to be the best they'd ever had. Fretted over their secret thoughts and feelings. Look at that woman. Sex on legs and she wants to fuck my husband. Does he want to fuck her? Does he masturbate to other women? Who are they? Does he know them or are they faceless, nameless... big tits attached to the everywoman? Or does he pleasure himself to women we both know?

Who are you when you are alone. When you're walking down the street, when you're in the shower, in the wee hours before sleep overtakes you, in the small moments of the morning, when we are awake but haven't spoken yet. What do you think about?

I'm over the details. Knowing them doesn't help. I welcome the mystery, don't need to know. Don't want to know. I know what we have. You stroke my soul with tender fingers and I see beyond the music, the bravado, the venom, the fear, the self hatred... I see Fat Boy and I like him best

Reader Comments (6)

I used to be all about details as well. But I don't want to be compared to anyone, so I don't want to recall ex-lover's attributes to the horny males mind so he doesn't compare me. I just wanna see pictures so I can say I am prettier then they are, then I am ok! B/c I know I am a better lover then they are! LOL
Good job for moving forward, sounds very mature! :)
December 15, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterJen
I've finally gone the opposite way in this relationship. I've finally figured out the meaning of "what I don't know won't hurt me". At the very beginning it was a bit of a tell all...I know too much about Todd then I care to....he's been in a threesome more than once; he's never "dated" but often fucked blonds; his last ex girlfriend was his best friend; he'd done every drug under the sun....and he probably knows too much about me...I've been with more than my fair share of men; I've cheated on quite a few of them; I have always enjoyed, shall we say "alternative" sexual intercourse; I've never done drugs in my life. These were the beginning conversations. The conversations that invite the "wow" factor. The conversations that make you lust for the other person and allow you to not give a shit if it's just a fling. Then...without knowing it...you start to develop feelings. Then you wish you hadn't described the scene of having anal sex in the parking lot of a packed mall at Christmas time. Then you wish he hadn't given you the details of the two women sucking his cock in the courtyard of a Bourbon Street bar. I wish now I knew less than I do, but I'm grateful I only know what I know. I only know the names of two ex girlfriends thankfully. That means that during the course of a heated argument, I can only use those two. I know me, and if there were more, I'd use more. "Oh, I don't appreciate you??? Well maybe Laura does...I'm sure she'd love to have you back". The Aries as a species tend to go for the jugular. I'm getting better at this though. Maybe it's age, but I am getting better. For the longest time (up until this past weekend actually) I only knew Todd's New Orleans girlfriend as "The New Orleans Girlfriend", and I was fine with that. I knew he really cared for her and that she hurt him, and I didn't want to know anything about her...not even her name. His last girlfriend....the "best friend"...is someone I have never met. Todd spent most of our long distance courtship convincing me they were just friends. Once, after a weekend together in Philly, he sent a blast e-mail out to all of his friends with pictures of the two of us together. I noticed Laura's e-mail wasn't added and when I asked about it he said..."I don't know why I didn't add her...I thought it would be weird for her..." to which I responded "Um....but you guys are just friends....that's what you tell me...so why would it be weird?"....we're crafty, we aries....and he actually thought it made sense, but to make sure, he CALLED her first to see if it was okay...and her response..."Honestly I'd prefer not to see them Todd..." BINGO. Just the ammo I needed. I'm here in Philly, 860+ miles away from my boyfriend, and I'm supposed to believe that Sunday afternoons playing Frisbee with your "just friend" doesn't mean anything? Maybe not to him, but it definitely meant something to her. At that point, I gave him an ultimatum....terrible I know, but I'm no fool. I've been there before, and if my ass was planning on moving away from my friends and my family and my city of dreams, then I want collateral. No more Laura or no more me. That's that. So...needless to say, that was the last I've heard of her and he heard from her. I don't know anything about her but her name. Don't know what she looks like. Don't care. I'm better off.

Todd has never seen a picture of my ex husband either. Doesn't want to. We've figured out that even though we know that pre-us lives existed for both, we don't need reminders of them around. Eventually I think that will change. This past weekend I finally found out that the NOGF's name is Tiffany. I asked him to tell me. I thought it would be a step forward for me. He used to refer to my ex-husband as "Sergio" because he knew he was a guido and he never wanted to use his real name. Only recently when necessary he has referred to him as Nick. I think it was a step forward. I look at it this way - he has never been married before. Never even been engaged. Never had a child. He's forty, and I'm the one he choose to do these things with. He's also the one I chose to have a child with. I'm carrying his child. No woman can ever take that from me. No other woman will ever matter again. I'm content...no...I'm happy as hell with that.
December 15, 2005 | Registered Commentertallchickbarbara
I used to be the know-it-all girl too, wanted to know everything about her.

now I prefer not to know. my imagination runs too wild otherwise, and I kill myself thinking of him thinking of the hers.

there is something to be said for things left unsaid.
December 15, 2005 | Unregistered Commentermoimoi
Hey Monica! I love your website. Way to jump out of Mormon-land!!!!!! Glad you like David Sedaris. :-)
December 17, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterLaura
I used to do that too. And I was always wondering if I measured up. If I saw a girl with big boobs, I would be freaking out because I considered pretty much any woman remotely attractive "competition." And even if he said he loved me the most and I was the best person for him, I would think, 'Of course you HAVE to say that."

But over time we married, had a child, and I mellowed. And now, I give him alot of shit about dumping a woman (his high school and college sweetheart) who is a brain surgeon who makes a boatload of money. He could have been a house hubby with a nanny, with a sweet ride and tons of expensive stuff. But nooooo.... He married me and now he has to work his ass off and we both drive hondas and for a very long time lived in a house that was so tiny, most people's bathrooms were bigger than our son's room.

I laugh really hard about that after a few drinks. :-)

And now, when there's a pretty girl that walks by I'm the one pointing her out and saying things like, "Check out that rack." Apparently, checking out chicks loses its appeal when your wife starts pointing them out to you first. :-)

December 20, 2005 | Unregistered Commentermotherofbun
I've noticed that phenomenon as well.. I'm always pointing out nice racks and asses and The Surge pays them no mind..
December 20, 2005 | Registered CommenterMonicaBielanko

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