I've spent the past don't how many months giving Scarlett the benefit of the doubt, turning the other cheek, trying to believe what she tells me, hoping that she will take some serious responsibility for her life, make better choices, learn to tell the truth, behave as an adult not as a spoiled ill mannered teenager, plan for her future, prioritize, learn the difference between wants and needs, cease being a hypocrite, learn what the word hypocrite means, settle down, get serious, stop trying to manipulate, cease with trying to throw guilt trips on me, stop being dramatic, stop exaggerating, stop lying....Simply stated, to just stop being a 15 year old kid and act like the 60 year old adult that she is.
But. As I mentioned in one of my first posts, Kenny Rogers had it right years ago.
You've got to know when to hold 'em
Know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin'
When the dealin's done
Now, I gave up any thought of trying to make something work with us pretty much from the beginning of this saga. That was never the issue. What I did want to do however was help Miss Scarlett get as good a start on a new life as possible. That took many forms. From letting her vent her spleen at me, cry, scream, yell, say things that would make a sailor blush, listen to her reflect on how badly she'd been treating me, accept at face value her promise to reform, do countless favors for her that I was under absolutely no moral or legal obligation to perform...wash, rinse and repeat.
I did one of those many favors for her just a couple of days ago. Well, actually for the past 3 days but it's the one only 2 days ago that is important here.
She's been feeling under the weather lately. Whether that is due to illness or just too much fun I don't know, nor do I care. Suffice to say that she did not feel at all well enough to give Salty Dog his morning walk. So I've taken care of that most of this week. Wednesday however, she asked if I could take her to a doctor's appointment after the walk. Fine. Get in my car and lets go.
So while I am taking her to this appointment she mentions that she needs "help". Money help. She's broke. Has bills she can't pay. This is going to hurt her credit rating. Without repeating what I said word-for-word, I in essence told her that her being broke was not my doing it was hers. A good credit rating is reserved for those who manage their financial resources intelligently and a bad rating is for those who show they can't. She has well earned a bad credit rating. The bills will eventually get paid but likely with late fees attached and that's her fault not mine.
She then starts talking about the divorce. Wants me to put my last offer back on the table and we can be done. Nope, not going to do that I tell her. You had your chance, you blew it tough luck. At which point she tries to use the "I'll take you to court" card. Told her to please do. I am able, willing and prepared to take this into court. In fact, nothing would please me more than to present to a judge all that I have done for you, all that I have put up with from you and all that I have suffered with because of you. Please, do me that favor.
This conversation is not going in the direction Scarlett had hoped.
Then she starts to cry. Tells me that I'm right she's a loser, a whore, no one wants her, the guys she's been seeing are only using her, she feels ashamed, humiliated, embarrassed and yes she has been acting like a teenager.
The trouble with Scarlett and crying is that, for the life of me, I don't know anymore when they are tears of sincerity or just crocodile tears. But there was a glimmer of hope in me that maybe, just maybe I'd gotten through this time.
Well, that thought was put to rest this morning when I found out that Pecker is back in the picture. Pecker, the one that she "broke up with" right after Christmas. And he's coming over to Tara today to spend the weekend.
Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin'
Is knowin' what to throw away
And knowin' what to keep
'Cause every hand's a winner
And every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for is to die
in your sleep
I've held aces and eights for far too long. Time to fold and leave the table.
As for dying in my sleep, I can only hope that that day is years and years away long after the bitter memories from this poker game have faded away and I find myself at another table with a winning pat hand.
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