The End.

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“Do you think anything will ever be …… easy?” Brady said, a uncharacteristically defeated note creeping into his voice. We’d spent the whole day trying to find common interests in couches and art, only to discover that we’d never want to be decorating a house in the same part of town.

I thought back to our first date, at a cocktail reception in an art museum, where pointing out art we liked and disliked just made for interesting conversation, and an excuse to lean in and touch each other’s arm, as we talked over the music.  Neither of us were thinking about a potential life partner.

Religion, politics, our approach to parenting, music, the fact that I don’t believe in joint checking, at times the list felt endless, the list of ways we differed. Every time a future of negotiating every little detail with him started to look bleak, I compared it to how much more awful it would be to raise a child with a man who didn’t care, and thanked my lucky stars.  And I hoped our baby would have his smile.

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You'd never suspect by looking at us that Brady is the more traditional one, would you?

Brady is the last man I ever would have picked to have a baby with, but compared to all the like-minded losers I’ve known over the years, the little boys in men’s bodies …… well, let’s just say I accidentally picked a perfect father.

But all the respect in the world doesn’t mean we could pick a movie to watch on a Friday night.  This baby was our Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  And now that there’s no longer a baby, we have decided to acknowledge the writing on the wall and call it quits.  When I told him I loved him, I never once lied.  But of course, we both knew what we didn’t want to say.  We were a mutually admiring mis-match, best suited to cheer from each other’s sidelines.  Oh and how I would cheer.  Brady is self-aware grownup, a secure and happy person, unique and very loyal.

To say we’re “just friends,” after what we’ve been through together is a laughable understatement.  He never once let go of me that night I lay there and bled.   The memory of his kindness and care and understanding through our pregnancy brings tears to my eyes.  I wouldn’t take the whole experience back for anything.  He says he wouldn’t either, a statement that took me from sniffling to crying onto his shoulder.

Now excuse me while I go bedazzle Brady a shirt that says, “I have references.”

He’d prolly wear it.  For a while, anyway.  And I love that about him.

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29 responses »

  1. I truly admire that you can both go through something like this and still love each other and still be friends. And that you’re wise enough to realize that friends is all you should be instead of dragging it on and making it ugly. ((((HUGS))))

  2. I wrote and rewrote a response to this and I hated them both…I sounded schmaltzy and stupid when I really loved and felt what you wrote. So instead I’ll just say, glad you guys will remain friends and I love everything you wrote about Brady–it’s good to know and love a person like that. It doesn’t need to be written that it’s even better to know and love a person like you 🙂

  3. First, I love you. Second, I love Brady. Third, I need you to give me a nickname b/c I hate typing in my full name. Fourth, this was a beautiful post to read and brought many happy tears down my face. Thank you.

  4. You’re a pretty amazing chick. Shows how amazing you both are really, to have dealt with it this way. *Hugs*

  5. Big gold stars for you and Brady.
    I’m so impressed by your handling of your relationship while you are both grieving.

  6. I can’t type very well because I am cry….have something in my eye.

    I guess all I can say (and this is the biggest compliment I can give) is that if my son turns out to be half the man that Brady is, I’ll be proud of the job I’ve done. And if my son turns out to have any of your character Veaj, I will consider myself a parenting expert.

  7. Sad face… but good for you guys for being mature adults and handling this reasonably.

    Also? Totally with you on the joint checking.

  8. I hear ya, sister. I had someone complain it was annoying to split bills, but you know what? I’ve been doing it for ten years with roommates and it wasn’t exactly hard. And there was never a fight about money. Just sayin’.

  9. I believe in a joint savings account, but having to balance a checkbook for two spenders? Nightmare. And who wants to have to report back every penny they spent? Grr. You’re not my mommy. I don’t need anyone telling me I shouldn’t have bought that chai! I don’t need to feel guilty about spending money I work hard for!

    Ehh… that may have made me sound a little like a hooker.

  10. Hee. You say hooker like it’s a bad thing.

    I guess I should clarify that any way a couple wants to set up their money is their own business and I have no opinion on the subject. I do have an opinion on my money, however. I think it’s simplest when it’s clear who spent what, of who’s money.

  11. John and I have private checking accounts and one joint one. We both toss in money for joint expenses into the joint account and then the rest of our money is all our own–I love it (and I think Suze Ormand loves it and that’s what matters 🙂 )

  12. In my house we somehow have a my money is your money and your money is your money policy and it’s not in my favor. Hmmm…. me thinks me need to change that soon.

  13. In my house we have seperate checking accounts because Scott prefers that. I hate it because at the end of the month, I’m scrambling for money and he can spend $500 on hiking gear or whatever he desires. (Case in point: he spent $500 on rocks and gems for Tyler’s collection for his birthday!) and I am cutting out coupons for food because I foot the food bill. He works hard for his money (So hard for it honey- sorry can’t type those words without adding that part) and he does carry more of the big bills (but if you compared joint bills paid vs. monthly income, I actually pay a higher amount, if that makes sense) so I in no way begrudge him his money or the perks he gets from working hard for every cent, but sometimes it just doesn’t feel right and I get very pissed about it! Can’t seem to make him see my point. Money is evil!

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