I refuse to reach out for help. There have been few times when I have reached out for help and it hasn’t come back to bust me in the ass, but man, I’m confused. I need to vent. And what do you do when you cannot vent to anyone? You blog. That’s what you do.
Our relationship has turned to shit. I understand you are like 50 people’s boss, but can you understand this? I am not your employee.
I am your lover. The mother of your children. Your better half, (in the words of the infamous garbage man).
I work. And I work. AND I work. Do you want to know why? I’m going to tell you, and you are never going to read this. I work because it is the only way that I feel sane. It preoccupies my brain, my mind, and everything that keeps me functioning. Without it, I would never be able to be with you.
Remember when I was a stay at home mom? That time is forever etched in my mind as traumatic. I need help, but you are the last person I can ask. I’ve lost trust in you. I’m scared of you. I love you, but I am with you for three reasons to be exact.
Remember when you ruined my friendship with my best guy friend? Remember when you found out that I was falling in love with the garbage man. What did you do?
You beat my ass, that’s what you did.
After accusing me of cheating on you, you choked me until I thought I would die. I was panic stricken, fearing for my life. I thought it was the end of all. I screamed for help, and you choked me to make me shut up. I cannot put those feelings into words. My heart was racing, my mind was pulling blanks and vivid scenarios at the same time. My ears echoed my own heartrate, blood pumped through my head slowly and quickly at the same time. My eyes saw a person they did not recognize. I thought about where my kids would go. I was certain that you were going to kill me.
The next day, I was asked why mommy had yelled in the middle of the night. You told me that you were so sorry and you could barely remember it. I barely remember my parents raping me, so it’s okay, right?
I’m not perfect. I cheated on you. I admitted this to you. I will not make any excuses to the world, but we both know it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to this relationship. Was it the worst thing I’ve ever done? YES. Was it the worst thing you ever did? No. How your words cut deep. How your actions have left never healing scars. All the girls you have cheated on me with? They don’t count because of reasons, right?
I’m angry. I’m hostile. I live for one thing. And that one thing is jeopardized by you. You told me you loved me. You lied. You cheated. You robbed me of the life I dreamt of. I have a hell hanging over the fibers of my being. I thought it would change. I thought it would get better, and it did. For a while.
The world sometimes works against the small people working the hardest. This has been an ongoing lesson I’ve learned. My reputation will soon be splattered, and you, you will walk away without a scratch. Just like you always have.
You are the master of skating by in life. I have to work so hard it looks like I am in a constant state of no motion. If I skate, I crash. When I crash, it’s not a fender bender; it’s a fiery blast of destructive misery.
The big black hole is the epitome of my soul when it comes to you. I hurt to admit it. I hurt to say it. When you are good, when I am good; it is very good.
When it is bad, it is horrid. I do not want to fear you. I am tired of fear. I want to love you… and before you think I am a heartless bitch, I DO love you. I love you beyond reason. If there were any sane reason behind the love I hold for you, we would not be where we are. However, I am not in love with you. Sometimes, I look at you and I wonder why. Sometimes I cannot stand coming home because you bring me down.
You do not name call, you do not belittle, but you are depressing. Nothing was good today. Nothing good came of anything in your life. I am not willing to deal with your problems when I have so many of my own.
This, I know, is harsh, but this is TRUTH.
I cannot remember the last time we slept in the same bed. You say, “Oh the kids want to sleep in our bed.” This is fine by me… but why are you worthy enough to sleep in our bed with our children, but I cannot?
What makes you more important than me?
Last night I laid down next to our youngest son. You were in the living room. You came to the bedroom and saw me on your side of the bed. You literally threw a child’s fit.
Don’t deny this.
You do not have to say words to throw a fit.
“Are you for real?”
Throwing you phone charger on the counter.
Storming out of the room.
Leaving the house to smoke a cigarette.
That is a man-fit. I don’t like it. I don’t appreciate it. I sleep on the couch. I work many more hours than you, plus I am in school attempting to get a degree to better myself, but I’m not worthy of sleeping in OUR bed for a night.
I hate entitlement. You are the epitome of an entitled individual. Some days, after work, I don’t want to come home. I want to see my children… but I hate hearing you bring my mood down. I hate being that person. I don’t want to hear about your job… because it’s always bad news. And the girls… why are they texting, calling, and Facebook messaging you? Constantly. Just stop. You are pushing me away.
At the end of the day. It isn’t your fault. It’s not my fault. We are just not good for each other. So now, when do we finalize this realization?
If I approach you first, when will you throw that first punch? When will you slam me against the wall? When will you choke me? When will you threaten me with, “You will never see these boys again?” When will you tell me that I’ll have to pay child support to you? When will the blackmail begin? When will you use the things I fear the most against me? You have threatened to do it all. You are incapable of a peaceful parting of ways.
Of this I am certain. Is this how you will keep me forever? To keep me fearing? Scared? Panicked?
I want out. I most certainly need a break. You are incapable of trust. Even when I was perfect, before the man who showed me your true colors, you were incapable of trust. Are you worried that if we take a break I will not come back?
I would be too.
The One that Cannot Get Away.