Reality Bites

Here it goes, the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I've settled in for the night with a bottle of wine, sushi and my new favorite movie, Valentine's Day. I wish I had the guts to play waitress for a minute like Jennifer Garner and royally embarrass Andy and the misses like her character did to Patrick Dempsey. What a classic moment. Although I suppose I'm doing one better by posting an open diary for the masses to read and exposing not only all my dirty laundry but also those of Andy and company. Okay, must have a big gulp of wine before I begin disclosing the raw emotion and reality of a fairytale nightmare.
So let me start with baby steps and talk about the mundane details of my existence. Which is probably smart anyhow since our readership has quadrupled overnight. My name is Summer Peterson or SP for short hand. I am a thirty-five year old (thirty-six in a couple weeks, but who's counting), divorced (my birthday will mark the one year anniversary), currently involved in a long distance relationship with a man I dubbed McDreamy or as he likes to call himself Devils Advocate (he writes on the blog now too). I moved to New York City about two months ago, by way of Miami and Los Angeles. Have I lost you yet? I am the only child of a former Wall Street broker and a criminal lawyer. I was born in Miami, but grew up in New York City, Greenwich, CT and towards the end of my adolescence briefly moved back to Miami. I went to college overseas in Spain where I got a Bachelors degree. My parents divorced while I was in college. My mother splits her time between Los Angeles and the summer home on Martha's Vineyard. My father retired a few years ago, bought a place in Costa Rica and spends his days chasing twenty year olds.
So how did I get here confessing my life story to strangers? Up until last year I was happily married (or so I thought) to a man named Andy. Then one day I came home early from a business trip (I'm a fashion stylist for the rich and fabulously dysfunctional) and found Andy and his secretary buck naked in our bed. I got past the affair, I was willing to work it out, but Andy had unknowingly made the decision months prior that we were old news and had already begun planning a new life with Liz, the newest Mrs. Andy.
He moved out shortly there after and the divorce was finalized with little debate. I got the condo, some money and that's all I wanted. But, I didn't stay in LA; I packed up and moved to the sunshine state to start a new life. The new surroundings didn't help much, but nonetheless it was a much-needed change. I was offered a job in New York shortly after meeting McDreamy (who lives in Miami) and in brief summary that's how you came about reading my words on your computer.
I know back in the beginning I had said that Andy was my boyfriend not my husband and there were probably some other white lies and I apology. Either label doesn't change the reality or facts, but I guess at the time saying he was a boyfriend felt less embarrassing and more casual and to be expected. As well I never really talked about the affair, ridiculously lavish wedding or other intimate details for the same reasons.
Ultimately he did end the marriage in an email. We were trying to work it out, at least I thought so, but he never came back that night, he called it quits in a simple and brief note, "I'm sorry. I can't." That was the last formal communication I had with him until a couple weeks ago when the big bad wolf himself showed up at my door poorly attempting to win me back.
Well, I'm not sure if this was helpful. For me it's reopening a wound, yet at the same time a big relief as piece-by-piece the past is finally being put to rest.
SP