That’s how everything feels.
I just want peace.
The only hand I needed was my own.
“God, when you get old, forgiveness is so important. And you know, the reason that I can be articulate about my life is because I spent so long researching myself” — she sniffles, laughs — “and you can say, Well, that’s really narcissistic, and maybe it is! But I really believe in the importance of an examined life, of an intentional life.”
~ Jane Fonda
I wish you were here when she played the song that brings tears welling to her eyes. I wish you were here holding my hand as I realized there is nothing I can do to fix her hurt. I wish you were here sitting in the uncomfortable with me, with her.
I wish you were here when his eyes filled with wonder and excitement laced his voice. I wish you were here to share the pride in his reading aloud because you also recognize the significance of his journey from nonverbal.
I wish you were here to listen when I worried today. I wish you were here when he arrived safely from his first interstate road trip. I wish you were here sharing what may be the last summer vacation before he leaves the nest.
I just wish you here fully grasping the importance of the laughter from the kids in the next room. I wish we were reminiscing about days past together. I wish you were here to embrace in this contentment.
To be clear, I don’t even know who “YOU” are.
Then again, maybe you don’t deserve this. Maybe only I deserve this. I earned this. It is mine.
Yet, I long to share me with you.
Still, I wish you were here.
Ive spent my entire adult life trying to save you. Im done. I refuse to suffer at your hands anymore and I wont let my kids experience the fruitless trials that come with trying to love and save you.
If today’s conversation should become our last, Ive made my peace with that.
I love myself and the kids too much to let you rob our lives of anything more.
It is what it is.
I woke up this morning to a message request sent through Facebook Messenger. It was the EX.
Please just talk with me soon. Please steph. I miss you guys.
I don’t know what there is to talk about because we live with different truths in different realities. That was my response.
I honestly do not know if there is a right response here. I struggle with giving no response to someone I know so intimately struggles with their demons. I also struggle with any response I give, not knowing the mindframe in which it will be received.
He asked about me and the kids and I could not answer. I didn’t feel safe doing so. Then, he told me that he might move to California for a job but that he didn’t want to go if there was even a chance to see any of us. He spoke about the months he spent in jail and the time he spent there reading, learning and inspecting himself. He continued to say that he was doing everything the courts and I had told him to do and that he didn’t need drugs to alter anything about him or his life anymore. He said he was sorry. He asked me to let God in my heart and to forgive him.
My heart is not the problem. It’s my memory. Just a month ago, he was not in a good place mentally. The stories that make their way back to me from his mouth to others’ ears are never accountable or based in reality.
All I could offer was that he should take the job in California and get a fresh start. If he really wanted to help make amends, he could put his money where his mouth is where I am concerned and he could write letters to the kids, they are old and capable enough to make their own decisions where he is concerned, but generally, we all had boundaries he needed to respect. Less conversation, more action.
That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.
after driving aimlessly and disassociated, im now sitting at a truck stop. i have been for about an hour now. sobbing.
there’s no going back but i dont know where to go from here.
i dont feel safe. my heart feels irreparably damaged. my faith in men and love and humanity is shattered.
am i unlovable? do i deserve this hurt?
if it wasn’t enough to try and fail at love three times within one year’s span i don’t know if i can handle the ultimate costs remaining.
divorced a man after 10 years together. spent around nine months trying desperately to prove myself worthy of another man’s affections, mostly feeling like i wasn’t enough for him and never would be. everything i said or did was discounted. he kept me at a distance and let me walk away with a self fulfilling prophecy.
starving for redemption, not only for myself but for my kids, i was an easy target for habitual user and abuser. when the kids dad made contact claiming to be clean and wanting to make amends with his family, i found solace in thinking this was the reason everything else had fallen apart. now something better would be put together. god was …
god was nothing.
it was my naive heart that always gives the benefit of doubt and love without conditions. when i saw my kids light up in his presence, my cup runneth over. i accepted his apology and hoped facilitating the relationship between the kids and their father would bring about the healing we were all in diar need of.
with the holidays setting in, so did the loneliness and depression. then mania. then trying to end the mania. baby daddy comforted me and dried my tears, and i know now, took advantage of me again. showered me with compliments and acts of chivalry. i wanted to believe and so i did. he is cunning… somehow, he fools people. its shocking when you look back but in the moment it seems real. while im not ashamed of daring greatly to give my family a chance at a happy ending, i knew better. empaths and narcissists do not mix.
there is no happy ending and im right back where i started a year ago.
i dont want to do it again. im tired. i want to be done making myself and my heart vulnerable in the name of love.
where did it get me?
im not sure ill ever be able to get back on the map.
im not even sure i want to anymore.
after all, im homesick for a place that im almost certain doesn’t exist anymore or maybe never did.