Enter the Ex.

After getting an amazing job offer in Florida, Charming decided that, in order to make our relationship work, he wanted to move to Florida with me - rather than continue our long distance relationship. I was anxious - and heavily advised against it (mom and friends warned me, "If you let him move in with you without a commitment, you'll never get one. Look what happened with your last relationship.")

Always stubborn, I put my concerns aside and agreed to the arrangement. Three weeks later, we would find ourselves 1200 miles from my home, 4000 miles from his, surrounded by no one we knew and in the company of a partner that, we quickly realized, we had a lot to learn about. The first few months were tough. We'd gotten along famously during our one - two week visits with each other, and we'd been spending 24/7 together. What made this so much different?

Enter the Ex. Just before the move, perhaps (though he'll never discuss it with me and I'll never know for sure) out of spite for the fact that he was moving to sunny Florida while she was in rural Oregon, the Ex began to have a major meltdown. Her relationship with her longtime live-in boyfriend dissipated, and she began a string of moves - moving Casey through three districts and simply not sending her to school in one year before being warned that she'd face fines if she didn't shape up. While Charming and I were looking at homes, he had to step away numerous times to argue with her on the phone about yet ANOTHER move she'd spontaneously planned, and she insisted that he head home early from the trip to help her move. Throughout our four days of job hunting and exploring the area, they had more than 4 shouting matches on the phone, and he'd spent at least 10 - 12 hours on the phone discussing everything with his family.

Charming still was in lockdown mode about what was going on. He would tell me later that he wanted to "shield me" from the Ex as much as possible, but all it did was make me uneasy, uncomfortable, and insecure with our own relationship. When I overheard him discuss with his parents (less than an hour after signing the lease on our new home that - because we had to have room for Casey and his home office - would cost a lot more than I'd be comfortable paying myself) how he may just move in with them and stay with his daughter through the end of the school year to avoid having her change schools again, I couldn't help but be crushed. I knew he had to do what was best for his daughter, but I was due in Florida in early March (it was now late Feburary), and I'd just signed a lease and put a lot of money down on a home that I couldn't afford by myself, to accomodate he and his daughter - who I had yet to meet. I felt selfish and uneasy - he clearly got upset when talking about things, but I felt completely in the dark. Until now, his fights with the Ex had had little bearing on me. Now, her actions were directly affecting me - financially and emotionally, as well as affecting the stability of my relationship with Charming. I was resentful and guilt-ridden at the same time. Had it been any other ex, I could have been angry. I could have demanded that he make a decision as to whether he was moving to Florida or staying in Oregon. But I couldn't. I couldn't say anything. All I could do was sit and wonder what was going to happen - if we were going to start a life together or if he was going to leave me up to my eyeballs in bills in a strange state where I knew no one.

I started wondering about her - was she pretty? Was he still attracted to her? What had happened in their relationship that they had parted ways? Charming stood firm on his silence - there was no discussing anything about their relationship, or about his daughter, with him. Instead, I started getting frustrated and resentful.

When we moved in together, the phone calls continued. I would work all day and come home to sit for hours while he would have family conference calls, or - on worse days - individual calls with his mother, father, and sisters to discuss the Ex in detail. He'd walk into other rooms so I couldn't hear him, or step outside. Then, hours later, he'd come back into the room and, as if nothing happened, continue on about his day. When I'd try to ask, he'd refuse to discuss what was going on, only saying, "She's having a bad day again." My frustration continued to grow, as did my insecurities about our relationship.

If he couldn't discuss with me something that was so important to him (yet he could with his family and with his friends) how were we going to build a life together?