I can feel it coating my bones, like, hells equivalent of a delightful, brittle chocolate shell.
Divorce.
It may not be this month, or next. Nonetheless, it stalks me as the devil his quarry.
Perhaps they are one in the same.
I’ve fought it. Oh, how I have fought.
Every fiber of my being wishes there were another way.
It is as if the damage between he and I will never heal. Wounds weep and bleed. Staining any chance for repair.
It congeals the emotion, stagnates the connection, frozen and lifeless- like scar tissue over an old wound.
If ever I have needed a friend, it would be in the now, the next 6 months, the next year.
The support of another, wiser human soul, for however long it takes me to put things in motion.
In this moment, as many moments before, I am frozen. Terrified of an uncertain future.
It resonated within me yesterday, a rush of wind, preceding a concussion, steading and cool against my cheek – “8 years is long enough”.
If we cannot make real consistent progress in the next few months, that is the end for me. I am done. I must be ok with that. It is not for lack of effort.
I can no longer endure.
Our 9th anniversary is on March 26th 2019.
This realization was a shock for me. I was sure the 8th year was just closing. My time table advanced, a dog at my heel.
My heart bleeds and aches.
Oh, how I want our relationship to be fulfilling, solid, nurturing, uplifting, -all the things a good relationship is.
Alas, time passes. We both try, and try again.
Any small success is torn away- by one slight, or the next.
Unmet expectations lie dilapidated and raw. Progress, if any made, is severely stunted.
So, here I sit -lamenting. Writing into the nothingness.
Somehow, I must survive the days that lie ahead; mold my life into something of substance. Onward and upward, as the saying goes.
I will do my best…
NO!. I WILL hold on while life ravages me. Tears away all I ever thought it would be.
I owe my children that much. I couldn’t bear to make them suffer the same fate it did -growing up without a mother. Somedays that thought is the only thing that keeps me this side of the loam.
Even when I fail them, those bad mother moments, at least they know that I am here.
That I love them, and I am trying.
GOD AM I TRYING, and failing and trying again.
To be what they need. To teach them. To lead them.
To make sure they have a happy home. A good father..
Yet, in that desire I see fault. I cannot protect them from his decisions.
Perhaps that is why I have stayed as long as I have.
I know what my ideals are for a father to my children. I know what they need.
I know his potential is.
There is a match there- within him. He could be all they need. All I need.
Through some unseen means, it is repressed. Rarely, minimally, pushing forth into the light.
Perhaps, my ideals for what I want my family to be skew my vision; give a dusky glow to his lackluster ‘efforts’.
Perhaps, as he says, this is all that there is within him. It saddens me.
My children and I deserve better. We deserve passion, effort, attention to detail, kindness, uniqueness, positivity, support. We deserve to love and be loved without barriers.
The emptiness, ever begs- for filling.
I would go too far to say all the issue we have are solely his. Such in simply not true.
It seems, the more I try to repair things the more apparent the damage I have sustained.
How detrimental those lesions.
Alas, I cannot stitch these wounds. I can only just manage to staunch the bleed.
Oh, to be whole again.
To be able to relax, to trust, to have any lasting reprieve for the burdens I bear.
What it is to my myself, has long escaped me
His damage? Of what to speak?
Manifested in Mindlessness? Stoicism? Anger?.
No pain to see. No emotion evident. Outburst suggest turmoil within.
As my eyes see, surely, much of this existed before me.
My inflictions, my inability to deal with the situations we put ourselves in, my inappropriate responses to our incessant tribulations. I deeped the wounds.
Surely, I have not destroyed this man? One woman, alone!?
Undoubtedly, he has vanquished the light in me.
How do you go back from this? One does not. There is no path.
Forward, the only option lies. Assess, analyze, manage. Step. Repeat.
It grieves me to think -forward, may mean alone.
Heads or tails, I will stand. I will keep moving. One step at a time, until I find my peace.
My life, Now. 