Silly me, I was starting to worry that things were starting to quiet down around here.
Thankfully, drama always has a way of finding me, and the drama of all dramas is about to unfold.
I got home from visiting a friend in the hospital tonight, and logged onto my gmail, as normal. In it, I saw a Facebook alert with my 8 yr ex's name attached.
I have not heard hide nor hair from this man in 2 yrs (we've been broken up for 3) and the last time we spoke, we were fighting over our cats.
We had been living together, with our two cats, but it was always assumed that if we ever broke up, the cats would go with me, since I was the one who had brought them in from the shelter where I had been volunteering. Well, we did in fact break up, and although it was a long time coming, I had been sort of blindsighted and had to leave lickety-split with not much warning. Which is how I ended up in Queens, living with a friend, sans cats.
I visited those cats in Brooklyn once a week, and again, it was always sort of assumed that once I got my own place, I was taking the cats back.
A few months turned into a year, but I still visited the kids every single week without fail, and fully expected that one day, they'd be living with me again.
When I finally got my own place back in Brooklyn, I excitedly emailed my ex and told him the news. "Now I can get my cats back!"
His reply was that I had a lot of nerve, coming back after a year, wanting my cats back. How dare I just walk in and expect to get them back. I was a loser for taking a YEAR to get back on my feet, I was a terrible cat owner, I was a piece of shit, an asshole, etc etc etc.
We emailed back and forth for a while and he was SUCH a dick and SUCH a miserable asshole to me, I said fuck it. Keep them. If you are going to fight this much about it you deserve them more than I.
I hated myself for giving in but to be honest I didn't want to deal with him anymore on any level and I know he loves them to death and is giving them a good home. So to me, getting rid of him forever, was more worth it to me.
Tonight, this is what was waiting in my inbox:
"I hope this email finds you well.
And I'm sorry for the shock of an email after all this time, but I want to do the right thing. Or at least try.
Not to bore you with all kinds of details, but I moved out of my apartment. As a result I can no longer keep both Cougar and Bong. You cannot imagine how much it breaks my heart to separate them, but I have no choice. And now I have to find a place for Bong. Victor has been taking care of him for the past couple of months but it's only a temporary arrangement. And since he's as much mine as yours, I think you should have him. Or at least have that choice.
I'd love to know he was safe with you. I understand if you say no, I'll figure something out. I just thought you had the right to take him if you wanted."
At first when I saw his name I was confused. It didn't register who he was or what he wanted. Then I reread the email 17 times. And got super fucking MAD. It is so typical of him. He pushes everyone away, and then when he needs something he comes crawling back with his tail between his legs, all humble. I mean, is he KIDDING? This is the guy who told me that I was unreliable because I might meet a guy and give up my cats for said guy. That I was a loser for taking a year to find an apartment! but I'm supposed to feel BAD for him now that he has been kicked out of HIS? And all of a sudden the cats are as much mine as they are HIS? Is he kidding????????????
Of course, I emailed him immediately. All it said was, "Of course I will take Bong. Call me and we'll make a plan."
I am going to take back my Bong with open arms, but the minute that cat is back in my house, that asshole is getting ripped a new asshole.