O.K., sorry to do this, if I was back home, I'd be shooting a few tequilas at the old hangout with my friends, but they are 1600 miles away, so you are going to catch the brunt of this.
(slamming down the first one, signaling for another) Last night, my baby girl called me, in tears, asking why I left her, telling me that she hurt so much inside. There I was, trying to hold back my own tears, because he ( my BF) says it makes him feel bad, and it brings such bad energy into the house when I cry, and he has the nerve to approach me and say "Maybe it would be best if your kids weren't here for Christmas." (slamming down the second one, signaling for more)He said" This is the girls first Christmas, and you need to help me make it special for them. If your kids are here, they( his girls) probably will feel left out. Your kids have had so many Christmas days with you, and maybe you could just trade in their plane tickets for one for yourself the weekend before Christmas." Granted, his girls were raised Jehovah's Witness, and this is their first celebrated Christmas, but, damn it, that's not my fault. I have been living only for the chance to spend a couple of weeks with my kids, be with them on Christmas Day, not just for a couple of days, where half of the time is spent in an airplane.( slamming down another).
This is the point where my friends would commiserate with me, call him all kinds of bad names while I defended him ( that helps me remember why I'm with him, screwed up, yes, but there you are), give me advice, let me cry it out, then joke me out of the mood.
God, I miss that.