My words have been stuck in my head for awhile. I’m half dead inside my mind. It’s definitely not a lack of things to say. I could scream for days and there’d still be more but it feels very futile.
Then this time of day rolls around. The time of day I used to look forward to getting into bed with my husband about an hour before falling asleep just so we could talk. We’d lay in one another’s arms talking and laughing. Im a girl who enjoys sex but this type of intimacy is beyond that and I cherished it. But now I try to sprawl myself out to cover as much of his empty space as I possible. Another act of futility.
The tears well. The thoughts race.
How long has it been since he held me here? More than that though, how long since he wanted or needed to just be next to me?
How long did I pretend we were being sheltered and cared for by piecing together the scraps of attention and affection that were haphazardly tossed our way? Why was that acceptable to me? To him? When exactly did I accept this shell of the man, husband and father in place of the genuine? How did he keep turning up less accountable and proactive yet more burdened and resentful? And why? Always, why? All we wanted was him. He was gone.
The environment became too toxic, the stakes too high. It reached a boiling point. The kettle screaming and by that time too hot to handle. We were burned and my reflex was to let go and guard the wound.
I told him he needed to leave and I didn’t care where he went. An obvious overshot released venomously, with teeth and claws bared in perceived threat to child that has since been labeled “unacceptable” and even “unforgivable” that I am struggling to wrap reality around. I question things that I actually witnessed happen which leaves me feeling untrusting of myself and because he’s taken all of this and made them into logic and reason to stay absent from home and family, untrusting of him as well.
I mean it can’t be both something that didn’t happen the way everyone perceived it and the reason for a realization that you need to step away and work on yourself to have any chance of us being a family again.
There’s so much more to say. So much to be done. And here I am. Just me.