This is not what I wanted at all. I just kicked off my high horse. There was not soft place to fall. It hurts. A lot.
Sunday night after the post, after flying high, after feeling content, I went downstairs to some laundry and when I was done, I decided to go into “the office” and leave Jerm a silly message and tape it to his computer so he would see it in the morning.
While I’m sitting there, an IM pops up on the screen. It’s from a girl. Innocent enough. But then she says something else, and something else, and something else and my smile fades from my face and my heart sinks into my stomach, and I feel like I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m going to vomit.
I snap out of it and go into mission mode…pulling up all the archived conversations. This cannot be happening. This is a bad dream. Please, let it be a bad dream.
I print them out. I have to physically hold them out of cyber space and see the words. All of them. About 20 pages of them. I saw the words. I knew what they were even through blurry, tear-filled eyes and shaking hands. This would not be another time in my life where I pretend this isn’t happening.
I take them all upstairs. He’s sleeping in MY bed, in MY room, in MY house…peacefully. I’m enraged. I slam the door open and turn on the light. He shoots up out of bed in a daze. I throw the pages in his face and tell him to get the fuck out of my house. He’s looking for something to say, but there is nothing to say. It’s all there in black and white now.
I don’t remember what he said or if he said anything. The next thing I remember is being curled up in a ball on the floor in the kitchen, sobbing like someone had just ripped my heart out. Asking why he did this. Asking what is wrong with me that makes people do horrible shit like this to me. Screaming that it hurts as if Im physically feeling the pain. And it did. It hurt really fuckin bad.
And then he was there. He was on the floor with me. And he is crying.
And as much as I want to finish this post…. I never will.