PURPLE IRISES WITH NO CARD

ALL RIGHT.  NOW I AM NOT IMAGINING THINGS.

This is exactly what I got

Yesterday, I was in a bad mood.  Total Scrooge.  I went Christmas shopping at the mall, fought through the crowds, etc.  Seems like they all had the same idea--to drive me nuts.  Spent an hour on the line, at least.  Kids screaming in front and behind me.  Then I became dizzy because I had forgotten to eat, so a grabbed a Snickers bar and inhaled it in one bite.

Once out of that particular nightmarish store, I grabbed lunch--shoveled down a slice of pizza.  Then hit the highway for home to be back in time for Derek to get off the bus.  Once home, I threw all the packages in my room, swearing to wrap at least two of them before the day was done.  All I wanted to do at that point was to take a nap, but that was just a fantasy.

Then, at around two o'clock,  the doorbell rang.  Since I've been receiving packages lately (almost on a daily basis), I was not surprised.  When I opened the door, a man was there holding a box from SuperFlowers.  It stopped me in my tracks.  Could it be a long overdue peace offering from my husband?

However, when I opened the box,  it was quite clear that the flowers were not from P.  Nestled in the box were 20 blue irises (I say they are purple, but officially, they are called blue irises).  There was no card attached. I was astonished because P never gave me irises, but T did.  

Immediately, my mind drained of all sense.  My stomach did back flips, and my heart quickened.  My legs became weak and could not support the weight of my body.  I had to sit down.  I was sure that I knew who sent me the flowers, but how and from where?  Why?

As for P, I didn't know how to explain it to him, so I put them on my dresser in the master bedroom.  He doesn't go in there, anyway.  I spent the rest of the day and night in a daze--confused, afraid that he might come in and see the flowers, and then ask me where I got them.  I had an excuse all ready, but did not have to use it.  I spent a lot of time in my bedroom last night,  wrapping presents and staring at the flowers.  I wondered what this all meant.

Today, I visited the old age home.  I had not seen Frank in a little while, and maybe I thought that I could get some answers. Unfortunately, Frank was more confused than ever, and I was not sure if he even knew who I was.  It is really terrible what is happening to him.  It breaks my heart.

However, as I was leaving, he had a moment of sudden clarity and asked if I had gotten the flowers that he sent me.  I stopped, turned and asked him point blank if T arranged for the flowers to be sent to me, but that temporary moment of clarity slipped away.  He said "what flowers?", and I even though I repeated the question, I did not receive the answer I was looking to find.  He was lost in his own mind.

But I did get some kind of answer.  I didn't mention anything about flowers before Frank brought it up, so now I know that they were from him.  I don't know if T had anything to do with it, but I have a feeling that he did, because of the irises.  Was it his idea? Why didn't he send a note from Frank? Did he want me to think that they were from him?  Was this a way for him to send me a message of some sort? 

I don't know what to think.

IT WAS ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE!

Last night I went for a long needed night out with the girls. It was a Friday, and we haven't been getting together to play tennis, and we needed an excuse to go out.  

I had a few drinks, and my tongue became a little loose, but I didn't let the secret out.  It was right there, ready to fly out, but I kept it in his cage.  That was the agreement that I had with P, and I kept my promise.  But, God how I wish that I could tell someone (besides the priest).  Maybe one day, I will spill my guts to my friends, and let the  chips fall.  That should be an interesting conversation--to say the least.  They will either console me, or will be shocked beyond belief.

Getting back to last night, I had a great time.  We went to a nice local Italian restaurant.  The atmosphere was perfect.  There was no Roberta, no young guys hanging out at the bar, and no T with a date to muddle my mind.  It was just me, Chloe and Theresa--eating food, drinking wine and laughing.  All this, and I was hangover free this morning.  Thank God for small miracles.

I missed the laughing.  There has not been enough to laugh about lately, but I am not going to dwell on it, as promised.  I am keeping myself busy, preparing for Thanksgiving.  I've been watching the Food network lately, which is always fun this time of year.  Even though I am going to my parents house for Thanksgiving, I am still going to make a turkey over the weekend--for leftovers, etc.  I know that Derek loves turkey, and whatever comes with it (as does Philip), and I want to make him happy.  If it pleases P, well...THAT would be a miracle.

Speaking of this time of year.  It just so happens that our 11th wedding anniversary is coming up.  Should be interesting.  Eleven years ago, on November 25th, 2000, we married on the weekend after Thanksgiving (to make it easier for his family, who were coming in for the holiday).  It was cold and windy that day.  A sign, perhaps?  Probably, but I didn't see it.  Funny thing, I was checking my other blog and I noticed that I didn't post anything about our 10th anniversary last year.  It was supposed to be such a big occasion, and I don't remember what we did.  Maybe that was a sign of things to come.  Who knows?

So anyway, did I pass the non-pathetic, non-whiny test?  Yes, I still think about T and wonder what he's doing, and I probably always will.  But instead of listening to depressing music, I switched to Christmas CDs.  It's a step up.  You all should be proud of me.

I WANT EVERYTHING!

I bought out the grocery store today.  Lots of food on sale--pasta, soup, etc.  I like to make my own recipes, but also wanted to stock up on canned items, with lousy weather ahead.   The van was packed.  I don't know why I bought so much stuff because I originally went in there for just a few items.  By the time I left, the shelves were empty.  Well not really, but you get the point.

Why did I buy so much?  I can only guess, but it could have something to do with the fact that I visited the Old Age home to visit with my senior friends, including Frank.  I had not seen him in about a month, or maybe more...since the affair with T started.  I had not seen him since then.  When I was leaving, Frank told me to tell  my husband that his grandfather was looking for him.  Still a bit confused, I guess.  He still thinks that I'm T's wife.  After that, I could not stop thinking about T.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  Regretfully,  I realized that I would have to lug all those bags into the house by myself.  Suddenly, I was kicking myself for buying out the store.  I took a deep breath and started to unload the van, taking a couple of bags for one of what could have been thousands of trips back and forth from the driveway to the house.  I wasn't looking forward the task, I'll tell you that much.

After the first trip, I came outside and saw T standing there with bags in hand to help me.  I don't know where he came from, as I didn't remember seeing his truck in the driveway, but there he was in the flesh.   He looked incredible.  I pitifully tried to tell him that I didn't need any help, but he knew, as well as I did, that I was lying.  Besides that,  stubborn man that he is, he would not take no for an answer.  I was so starved to be close to him that I easily gave in.

I had not seen him since Philip's Sunday's morning call.  I had texted him a few times to let him know what was going on, but that was it.  I didn't hear his voice, and didn't see his gorgeous face until today.  I found myself staring at him while he was there, and vice-versa.  He looked right through me.  It was so uncomfortable that he had to leave before any real conversation had begun.  We were better off.

Now, I'm back to square one.  The desire is back (as if it had ever left).  Now, I can't stop thinking about him.  I want him,  but I want my family together.  I want everything--all of it.  In a perfect world, I could have it all, but I can't have everything, because it's not a perfect world--not for me, anyway.  I now know that if I want my marriage with Philip to be repaired, there is no way that I can live next door to T .  He was right.  It would be too difficult.  I could not see him every day, or even once in a while.  The temptation would be far too great.

So, it's once again time to dive into a box of cookies, and cry my eyes out.  Lord knows, I haven't cried enough.  I really am pathetic.

A NOT SO ROMANTIC SPA GETAWAY

LEAVE IT TO ME.  I went on my first MY FIRST SPA GETAWAY with the MAN THAT I LOVE, and it was COMPLETELY UNROMANTIC! 

Oh, it could have been.  A couple of weeks ago, it would have been a dream getaway (although it would have been impossible to do it).  But, we are not lovers anymore--unfortunately.

T somehow talked me into getting on a plane.  You know, the same one that he took Derek up in, where he is the pilot.   I froze when I saw it, and practically laughed in his face. But, I went.  He could talk me into anything--unfortunately.

We flew about thirty minutes, landed, and from there took a shuttle to our destination--a spa for rest and relaxation.  If ever there was a time for spa treatment, this was the time, even if it was only for an overnight stay.  He knew exactly what I needed.  He has a knack for that.

We checked into a room with two double beds, and then immediately started to make appointments to get out of the room.  I called to make a reservation for a massage, manicure, pedicure...the works.  Then I talked him into joining me.  Seeing him with green gook on his face made me laugh.  I needed to laugh so badly after the week that I have had.

Afterwards, we dressed for dinner, and while in the elevator, a woman came in  holding a fussing baby.  Everything had gone so well up until that point.  Suddenly the smile on my face went away, as I thought about my lost child, and the child that I was afraid to lose.  I became quiet, melancholic and wanted to drown my sorrows.

I ordered a bottle of red wine, which is usually a red flag for me.  Knowing that the night would probably take a treacherous turn, T changed his beer order and asked for a glass to  join me.  I guess that he didn't want me to chug the bottle by myself.  After a few drinks, I was starting to feel no pain.  I looked across the table at the man that I love.  I wanted what I had a week ago--a lover, and a family intact...the double life.  I started to flirt, he became uncomfortable, but I didn't care.  I no longer wanted to choose.  I wanted everything.

I finally stopped teasing him, probably because he kept begging me to stop.  Eventually, dinner was over, but in my mind the night had just begun.  We walked into the room, and once we were inside, I kissed him.   He was overwhelmed, and did not know how to handle it in our new reality.  I had other ideas.  I confessed that I wanted to go away with him, and leave everything behind--start over somewhere else where I didn't have to worry about what people thought of me.  Think of myself for once.  

He backed away, telling me that I was not thinking straight.  He reminded me of what I would be leaving behind.  I was such in a dream state that I had forgotten about my son.  I snapped back to reality.  I had lost my mind for a second--thinking only of myself, and not the big picture.  This is why I cannot drink--my heart takes over when my head should lead the way.

Then, I noticed that he was leaving.  When I asked him where he was going, he apologized, but said that he found it too difficult to stay there with me.  He just  wanted to go to the casino down the road to get some space.  He said that he would return in a few hours, after I was asleep.  I understood his reasons.  He was doing us both a favor, and although I wanted him to stay, I knew that he had to go.   

This morning, I awoke to find him sleeping in a chair in the corner. His was still fully dressed, his neck was in a crooked position, and he looked extremely uncomfortable.  I wondered what time he came in, and walked over to wake him up, in an effort to talk him into crawling into the other bed--at least.  He woke up, looked at my slightly hungover and sleepy face with those eyes that I love, and told me that I looked adorable.  That's why I love him--probably always will.  But I still have to give him up, and the thought of that is torturous.

Now, I am home after a wonderful getaway.  I needed it so badly to store up my energy for the fight ahead of me.  I am keeping myself busy, cooking for the week and cleaning.  I'm trying to keep myself occupied so that I don't think about the fact that T is right next door, and I would rather be with him.

WHY AM I DOING THIS?

When I posted this blog's introduction, I explained why I needed a new blog.  I was afraid.   But truthfully, after about a year with the other blog, I have realized that no one from my inner circle actually reads it.  It was a hard pill to swallow, because I did put some time and effort into it, but since it was just about my day to day life (which was pretty boring at the time), I guess that they did not find it interesting.   I don't even have any followers.  I'm sure that P never read one word from it, because he is not even aware that I write one blog (never mind two).  

However, I cautiously started this Peach blog just to be safe side.  There were no links to this blog from that blog.  I know that I've been posting links on Twitter to the original blog, but I'm not going to do that anymore.  I've stopped posting there altogether, and I deleted the blog entirely, but I saved all my posts, and transferred them to a new address. I will fix the broken links when I can.

Why do I have the Peach blog at all?  I needed to have this blog because I do not have anyone to tell all my secrets.  I can't tell family or friends about what is going on.  Could you imagine if I did?  After spending all this time trying to be the "perfect wife"?  Even in the beginning, when I started to feel something for T, who was I going to tell?  Who would have understood?  I had to vent all my doubts, fears, and desires somewhere else, because I was going crazy keeping everything to myself!  So I started this blog.  I didn't care if one person or one hundred read my blog.  I just wanted to send my feelings out into air to people that I did not know.  

I realize that there is a certain amount of risk having a blog like this, but if I am caught, it will be in the real world.  It will be from my own stupidity, or maybe I will just break down and confess everything--let the chips fall.  Who knows?  But, it will have nothing to do with this blog.

HE'S BACK- THE LABOR DAY PARTY, PART ONE

T was at Chloe's Labor Day barbecue on Saturday.  He wasn't there at first, and I was relaxed and having an adequate time--not dancing on the tables or anything.  We were there about an hour, and then I turned and there he was.  Suddenly, my whole body reacted.  I was shaking and found it hard to breathe.  A week of penance and self-loathing was down the drain.  The desire came back, full force.


He walked over to me and a few other people, and I noticed that he was tanned, rested, and unbelievably beautiful.  When we were in the presence of others, he explained that he was in Florida visiting his son.  Then when he caught a quick moment with me, he told me that I looked beautiful in the sundress, and that he could not keep his mind off what happened.  I would not admit to him that I felt the same way.  I wanted him to stop talking about it, said that it would never happen again, and begged him to get it out of his mind.  He said that it was impossible.  Don't I know it?


Roberta came over, and I was relieved at the start, because the uncomfortable conversation had to stop.  Then she started to flirt with him, rubbing his back in a sensual way, and I wanted her to go away.  She asked him to dance, and to my utter surprise (or disgust), he said yes.  I don't know if he did this to get to me.  Well...it worked.  I was pissed.  I told him as much when I confronted him by the beer keg, and he wondered what I expected him to do.  He reminded me that there was someone at the party that he wanted, and it was not Roberta.  Then Roberta returned like a cancer, and was back to her old tricks.


Suddenly, I felt dizzy.  I don't know if it was the previous conversation, the heat, or the fact that Roberta could not keep her slimy hands off of T.  I wanted to sit down, and searched for a chair.  I heard T ask if I was all right, I lost my balance and he kept me steady.   The wineglass that I was holding fell onto the tile, and shattered.  After that, it seemed that the whole world stopped.  Everyone was looking at me.


I wanted to fix it, somehow.  I bent down to try to pick up shards of glass, but T stopped me, saying that he would do it.  Chloe's husband, Donald was quick to come over with a dustpan and broom to help with the clean up, and everyone was asking me if I was okay.  Then P came over, and with all the sensitivity of a drill sergeant, he asked me what the hell happened--like I did it on purpose.


I told him that I wasn't feeling well, and wanted to go home.  P wouldn't hear of it, probably thinking that I was making it up (I've done that before).  He said that he did not want to leave because Derek was having a good time, and that I should sit down and relax, and "maybe I'll feel better".  I'm sure that I heard sarcasm in his voice.  Even Roberta seemed more concerned about me than my own husband.  Story of my life.  I was even willing to walk home so that P did not have to leave the party for two seconds to drop me off.  Then T said that he was leaving anyway, and that he would drop me off.


To be continued...

CAN'T EAT, BUT ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, I LOST 5 POUNDS

I'm down 23 lbs since I started.  I should be happy, right? I guess this "feeling sick", "can't eat", "lack of sleep" and "worrying" stuff is paying off.  Hooray,  I should patent this diet.

I'm also cleaning the house like a mad woman.  It started on Saturday (wonder why).  I've washed floors, cleaned out and washed the refrigerator, scrubbed the bathroom high and low.  I guess that it's Penance for what I have done, but a immaculate household cannot wash away my mistake.  The memories remain.

Another problem is that Chloe's having a Labor Day barbecue at her house this weekend. She invited all her neighbors, family and friends.  I would rather stay home and avoid seeing anybody, like I have all week.   I'm afraid that they will see the guilt in my eyes.  I don't want to face them,  however, I will have to go because Derek is looking forward to it, and I don't want to let him down.  Plus, Chloe is my best female friend, and I don't want to let her down either.  I just have to put on my happy face and act like I am not dying inside.

I guess that I don't have to worry about T being there.  I'm sure that Chloe invited him, although he is still MIA.  Will he ever come back?

BIRTHDAY BLUES--WHERE DID THE TIME GO?

I'm thirty-six.  The idea hit me like a bolt of lightning as I looked at the gray streaks in my hair this morning.  How did this happen?  Wasn't I twenty-one two weeks ago?

My confidence is at an all time low.  I'm out of shape, and unhappy.  Sure, I've tried to lose weight--every Monday I start, but by Wednesday I'm back to the old routine.  I can't seem to get motivated. maybe I'm just in a rut.  Oh, I'm definitely in a rut.

Philip never looks at me in a sensual way.  Not that he ever did look at me the way that Chloe's husband looks at her, or the way that Theresa's husband touches her shoulder from time to time.   Philip was never like that.   Maybe I'm just jealous.  After ten years of marriage I feel like we just go through the motions every day.  I can't remember the last time we were intimate.  Then again, maybe I'm just overreacting. 

My friends, Chloe and Theresa are both older and are able to laugh off my horror about turning 36.  They've already hit the mark and passed it.  It's no big deal.  One more year--older and wiser.  They cay "Calm down Victoria, it's a part of life".  They don't understand.  They are content with their lives.  I wish that I could be so calm about this, and I'm trying, but I have a feeling that my best years are behind me.

I was supposed to have a big family by now.  Three or four kids. Even though I love Derek more than anyone or anything else in this world, I would have loved to give him a brother or sister.  It was not meant to be.  Two miscarriages later, I've pretty much given up on that idea.   I was supposed to be happy and content with a doting husband.  Maybe Philip resents that I can't have more children, and that's why he is so distant.  Well, that's what I think, anyway.

Chloe and Theresa tried to cheer me up today.  Big spa day at Chloe's house.  Mimosas, pedicures, massage.  I was actually enjoying myself, and was not thinking about my birthday.  Tried not to think about the idiot next door who has made my life miserable since he moved in, but could not.  The thought of him made me make a stupid mistake today that almost ruined my spa day.

I have to admit that Mark, the idiot, annoys me more than any other person that I have ever met.  I think that he pushes my buttons on purpose just to make me look like a lunatic.  It's like a game to him.  The sad thing is that I get more attention from that jerk than I get from my own husband. But I don't want the attention. I just want him to go away.  I wish that I could just ignore him, but he always seems to be around.  

MRS. ANTI-SOCIAL?

I think that I might be classified as anti-social.

Well, that's what Philip thinks, anyway.  Let me explain...We've been invited to "the bachelor's" Memorial day party on Sunday, and I don't want to go.  Does that make me anti-social?

Yes, I don't feel comfortable around strangers.  I'm not very good at making conversation with people that I don't know.  Yes, I'm not particularly thrilled about being crowds, getting bumped around and having nowhere to sit.  Does that make me a pariah, or am I just shy?

I have my two best friends, Chloe and Theresa, and I'm happy with the two friends that I have.  I can depend on them.  I don't need other friends, especially not whoever is going to be at that party on Sunday.  They will be talking politics, or sports, or whatever gibberish of the week.  I'm not in the mood for it.  I would rather stay home, if Philip would let me.  But, he won't let me off the hook.  I have make nice and bring potato salad. I am so happy about that (that's sarcasm).

Nevertheless, one of my very best friends, Chloe will be at the party with her husband and son.  "The bachelor" invited all the neighbors, and Chloe lives a couple of blocks away.  She's actually looking forward to it.  I think that she's lost her mind.  My lovely (that's sarcasm too) next door neighbor on the other side, Roberta, will be there as well, and let me just say that the less time I spend with Roberta, the more sane I will be.  She'll probably be hanging out of her bathing suit, as usual, and hanging all over the available men at the party.  I really do not want to be there to see that.
Aargghhh!! I wish I had  bunker to hide out in this weekend.

Do I sound anti-social?  I don't think so.  I think that I'm just selectively social.

VICTORIA'S DIARY - HEARTBREAK

The Girardi's have moved, and poor Derek is a mess.  

Here is the latest post on my other blog, Victoria's Diary: HEARTBREAK