divorce

Closing Another Chapter

/ Revolution.07 / Leave a comment

blog-truth

The day shit went down was exactly 20 months to the day of Josie’s death. There’s been no doubt she helped orchestrate such a perfect storm – one that ensured no turning back – damage that was so concrete there would be no way to make it right, no question beyond a shadow of a doubt – and that it was!

As many more details there are to this chapter of my life, surprisingly enough, I don’t feel the need to divulge in them like I used too. Although impossible to realize at the time – all traumas and tragedies are in some way a blessing – to teach us an underlying lesson, assuming we’re willing and open to truly learn from it. And to some degree, these were also consequences of my choices, the choice to stay long after I should’ve, the choice to listen to my head and not my gut, the choice to not set boundaries out of fear, the choice to allow fear to consume me, the choice of routine and safety over following what, deep down I new was best, the choice of being selfish and thinking I was doing my daughter a favor by staying, the choice to feed into and play the game that I hated him for – but learned to love in some sick way.

Everyone has their own definition of closure to each circumstance, and to some degree, that closure comes when our minds and hearts are willing to truly hear it, no matter how harsh. As I said, I literally went insane with questions I would run through my head, wanting to know the details of how, when, where and WHY?! About a year and a half later, I broke. Aside from the fact that I was maxed out on my meds and needed to find something different – the ones I did switch too didn’t work. I was a fast rolling snowball that turned into an avalanche in a fairly short amount of time! I called him screaming and bawling, letters written, wanting out of this life, and for real this time – checked right the eff out. Done, over it, adios, peace out, sianara! I was exhausted, I was sick of putting on the front – as if I really had my shit together! I was sick of hearing aaaaaaall of the stories, sick of trying to cover his ass with my daughter, coming up with more excuses then he came up for himself, sick of not knowing the details, sick of wondering what in the eff I was going to do next, sick of getting up everyday to put on a show, sick of the torment – every aspect. I told him ‘when I ask you a question – you answer it – I don’t care what it is – answer me. You’ve done nothing but lie since day 1, acting as if I was delusional – I don’t care how bad it is, for once in your life tell me the truth – you owe me this!’ He told me how it wasn’t going to help, if anything it’d add more damage – but I didn’t care. So, we played a nice long game of Q & A! He was right, knowing the nitty gritty of it all did make it worse in the short term- but within days it lifted. That’s all it took – I just wanted the fucking truth – for once! Even though the answer to every ‘why’ question was followed with an “I honestly don’t know”, it was enough for me to finally put my mind at ease. To just know the facts without the guessing game, without others side or speculation. It didn’t clear the anger by any means, but it cleared my mind and that was good enough at the time.

Although I never thought I’d say it – I’m grateful for it many ways, it was a door that needed to be slammed shut for good. And the things it’s taught me since, although painful to endure – were truly needed. It taught me more about myself, how much my gut instinct never lies, more about those around me, those that stuck with me and were my sounding boards over and oveeeer! How blessed I am to be surrounded by such loving souls who stood by my side and showed up on days I’m sure they had far better things to do. It taught me my true, inner strength – that I really, truly didn’t know I had. It taught me to have more empathy for those going through hard times and to see each side of the spectrum (yes, that took me a long time to see beyond my side, I’m well aware! 😉 . It taught me that a loss comes in different forms and although it isn’t remotely fair to compare a death to a divorce, it is still a loss. It had different driving forces, but I would say to some degree, still follows the stages of grief – you’re still forced to feel it.

It made me realize how unable I was to be in a functional, non-confrontational relationship, because I had become dependent on the dysfunction. How I didn’t know how to allow something or someone to be good in my life and that a boring, drama free life – really is fabulous! lol It forced me to see how much I ran from things, whether perched on a bar stool or a social calendar so full and booked out, even I could barely keep it straight – I was occupying my time and energy on everything except what had happened. It has taught me, (perhaps more in the last year), what feeling feels like again. Not going to lie, I realized how much I didn’t miss it – but also how very much I needed it! How I’ve learned to mask and hide behind them, unable to show them, how important they are to release and how much we need to realize experiencing them is part of being human (still reminding myself of that on the daily). Because I cried so much and for so long after Josie and then next to never cried after the divorce, while operating strictly out of anger – I’ve been forced to face both extremes again and at a higher intensity. It’s taught me how numb I was to so many things around me, how blind and ignorant I became, how guarded and hardened I forced myself to be after the fact. It forced me to realize the masks I was wearing, and how we all seem to have them – applying a surface layer to throw out to the world to protect ourselves from really being seen. How fearful we are of another loss, in any form and how we cling even tighter when being threatened with it. How good the truth feels to not only know it, but to feel it – it was his truth, their truth, and my truth to an extent and it was one that needed to be set free. And for whatever reason – it did just that for me – and as I lay another chapter to rest, I’m grateful for every aspect of it. Without the darkness, I wouldn’t have known, nor appreciated the light.

Blurred Lines

/ Revolution.07 / Leave a comment

blog- blurred lines 2.png

Blurred lines – a.k.a. The Fog – Part 2. Only this time ‘the fog’ was engrossed with anger instead of sadness. It was an instantaneous switch and one that overflowed into every facet of my life, one that overtook me for years to follow. I remember almost everything verbatim, and yet the days blurred together into weeks, and then months. Expressing how enraged and ultimately, consumed by the hurt I was – seems beyond words. It was hard to express the hurt because that meant I was affected by it, and I didn’t want to be made an ass of anymore then I already had been. Beyond the shock of it came the hate – that’s what drove me more then anything. I never knew the depths of sadness and depression until Josie, and I never knew the depths of hatred and anger until this. The way my blood boils just recalling the details – reminds me of how real it was.

Sarcasm became my defense mechanism, whenever I’d get nervous or he’d ‘back me in a corner’ (not literally) I’d start to laugh because I felt as if I couldn’t defend myself, and sometimes it just seemed so asinine to me that I didn’t have a comeback aside from laughing. That would only fuel the fire to another level. It was a guaranteed damned if I did, damned if I didn’t scenario, no matter what the conflict was.

When he walked down the stairs that night, the only thing I could do without cracking him was using my go-to defense mechanism by asking if she was a good fuck. Then it was defense mode, with the normal comebacks of – what was I talking about, he’s done with me, this is bullshit – blah blah. I asked a few more times with no response before I stormed out of the house, with his phone, no shoes and half dressed! lol I think I was still half in and out of my body at that time, knowing, but not knowing what I was going to do next – ready to totally loose control and yet there was a part of me that kept thinking, be careful – there’s kids involved. I flew into their house about 9:30, she must have had a warning as she was sitting at the top of the stairs – unsure of what to do. From there, we ended up outside, where I asked – well, more like demanded and yelled questions that consisted of non-stop swear words! For whatever I reason, at one point I said ‘you’re pregnant aren’t you?’ She couldn’t give a confident no, and kept saying I needed to talk to him. I told her she was crazy for thinking he’d tell me anything, he was never going to own this or her. And I was right. I knew him like the back of my hand in every aspect and I knew how he was going to play it out. As I left, I was shaking so bad I don’t even remember the drive to my parents. I just remember calling them and not being able to breath because once the tears started, they were unstoppable – until the waves of anger flowed again!

My friend, Emily, had met me at my parents, I needed smokes before the gas station closed, so we went to get some. My mom had said to her before we left ‘don’t let her do anything except get smokes, and come right back here.’ I had no intention of ‘chasing her down’ – but let’s just the say, the stars literally aligned. As we were pulling out of the gas station, she drove by. Poor Emily – I kept screaming at her to catch up to her. Once she pulled over, I went to jump in the passenger side and she started pulling ahead, I was half in and out of the car, door wide open! I vividly remember going to swing with a closed fist and right before I made contact I remember thinking ‘don’t do damage, she’ll call the cops’. It was exactly like that, as if someone said it to me. I opened my fist and started hitting, as I looked up I thought we were going to hit a parked car so I got out, still screaming of course! Emily was pregnant and I remember looking at the terror on her face, like WTF just happened, but I didn’t care, I was just impressed that’s all I did to her! The next morning consisted of me showing up and telling him he had 2 hours to pack everything he owned before a moving crew of my own showed up. Needless to say, he did a pretty good job, on short notice. 😉 I took a week off work and the fun of the legalities had begun!

I found out she was pregnant within a couple of weeks which just added to the damage that I swore couldn’t have gotten any worse, but once again did! Even though there was no denying it, he wouldn’t admit to it, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Where as she had no shame, in fact she thrived off it. The next year or 2 was full of DRAMA, oh my gawd – it never stopped! Those months consisted of assault charges, blackmail threats, another child being born, bar bound nights followed by hungover days, minimal sleep, unable to be in a functional relationship because I didn’t know how, trying to hold my own while being scared sh*tless that his empty threats might not be empty and I’d lose my daughter, nasty things said on both of our parts, anger, tension and hatred. I coped in any way possible, smoking, booze, bashing, hating, counseling, workbooks, a social calendar as full as I could pack it and ultimately running, running from the pain while simultaneously being engulfed by nothing but . The thought of another loss of any kind put me into pure fight or flight mode. The picture in my head is getting beat to a bloody pulp and just as I’d start to get back up, I’d take another blow to the gut, followed by another one to the head and back down I’d go. That’s what it felt like, I felt like I’d make progress and then more stuff would arise. It was as if catching my breath from one kick to the next was literally impossible.

Crazy was an understatement of what those 1st few years consisted of. I became obsessed by it, unable to move beyond it, because I honestly didn’t know how. It drove me insane! I can’t explain what it’s like to know someone hurt you and everyone around you so bad, but the only thing you have is hearsay. Never having any type of answers, closure, apologies or sympathy – consumed me. The racing thoughts haunted me – how it started, when it started, where it happened, how many times it happened, what was true about any of my relationship with him or friendship with her, what would this mean for the kids, what happens from here – how can this be my fucking life?! This blurred fog all over again, trying to navigate through blindly. Hearing the stories and the hearsay and to some degree, actually wanting to know it, because it kept my fire fueled with rage and hate, ensuring he’d stay away and perhaps to some degree, me being able to play the victim this time. Like there – for all the times you made me look like the bad guy, acting like you did no wrong and I ‘wrongly’ accused you – you just tied your own noose and I’m glad people, even your best friends, finally see you for what you truly are. Did it make me a better for thinking and acting like that? No. It provided temporary satisfaction that I needed in order to cope, in order to literally make it one day at a time – because I was so scared – scared of him, scared of what was to come, scared that this nightmare, on top of the last one that I barely recouped from – was never going to end – or even worse – it’d repeat itself.

This seriously sounds like a ghetto ass Jerry Springer brawl – I’m well aware that this entire situation does – in fact we joke that we missed out on making bank by not going on the show! 😉 pahaaaa

With toxicity comes more toxins – they fuel each other after awhile. There are certain points, despite if there was a ‘final deciding factor’ that you can’t turn back, sometimes the only way to free yourself and each other from a tarnished relationship is to simply let go. And realistically, it doesn’t matter how we got there, or who did what – we were there long before this and we held on long after we should have, causing damage not only to ourselves and each other, but also our daughter. Either way, it needed to end – and this was the shit show of fireworks that guaranteed that!

D-Day

/ Revolution.07 / Leave a comment

blog-storm

I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus the past few weeks for a few reasons, but as I’ve tried to move forward with this subject in a few drafts, I couldn’t get it to piece together! It came to me that the reason being was because I was trying to modify it. I wanted to sugar coat it, I wanted the portrayal of it to be in a ‘decent’ format and a ‘mature’ demeanor. Or, perhaps just skip over the facts leading up to ‘it’, I preferred to just to skip to the aftermath of ‘it’. But the thing is, that wasn’t the truth of the matter – that wasn’t real life then – while it was actually happening. I was wanting to block the rawness and pain that followed it, I wanted to edit the story and downplay the events and emotions. I didn’t want to have to see how clearly the signs were there and ask myself (as I’m sure many others will be thinking while reading it) “what in the f**k were you thinking – it was so obvious?!” But that wouldn’t be the true story and it wouldn’t be my story or perception. So, as nervous as I am to see how this may come from my hands, I see now that it needs too – in the rawness and realness in which it was felt then, despite what it ‘looks or seems’ like. I guess that’s part of writing – the vulnerability of it all, things are always clear from the outside – but this was my truth, from my perception – it’s a part of my story – and maybe I need to allow whatever comes with it, the anger, hatred and blame to be felt as it was then.

I always knew when things were off, I could feel it, his distant demeanor and coldness spoke volumes. He was far easier to read then he realized – it started with the blaming and knit picking of anything he could think of, then drinking more and talking less. He was more irritable, and then the threats would start pouring out, like “what would I do if I didn’t have him, I’d never be able to make it on my own. Or how I’d have to move back in with my parents and he’d take our daughter – he’d start playing things out, trying to plant a seed in my mind that I would be screwed when things went south – knowing the end was in sight. It didn’t take long for me to start asking who it was, which only led to more fights about how I was turning it around on him because I wouldn’t take responsibility for the fact that I was wrong. I would try and leave it be, knowing damn well I’d either break and kick him out or it’d surface – and I’d still kick him out. Either way, he’d never be the one to leave, he always knew he could push me to my breaking point – it worked out well to play the victim – that his girlfriend kicked him out –  but also gave him the free reins he was hoping for. After a month or 2, that got old and security sounded again. So, back he’d come. I’d hold my own for awhile, keeping him at a distance – but he’d find the damnest ways to wiggle himself back in. And, I’d allow it, never fully letting it go though, it just added to my own insecurities, bitterness and unhappiness. “Forgaven but never forgetten” was what I’d always say – but that wasn’t the truth – it couldn’t be – there was too much damage done.

In hindsight, to say I was surprised by the actions and events that followed was assanign – given the people involved, there was nothing surprising at all actually! But, still, I allowed myself to be shell shocked. The straw that broke the camels back, the spade of spades – the ultimate finale was 6 weeks after we were married, when I found out he had been having a 5 month affair with my uncle’s wife. 6 weeks that were anything close to a “honeymoon” status!  That’s right people – a new meaning to ‘Hollywood marriage’ being that we managed to beat Kim Kardashian – we didn’t even make it 75 days! ha 😉

I would be lying if I said she was ‘welcomed’ in the family from the get go. For as young as she was, we knew very well what her past consisted of. The way that her and my uncle met, wasn’t exactly ‘stable’ by any means and everyone was all around nervous to see how this would shake out. Josie hated her, she didn’t hate very many people – but she wasn’t budging on this one! She had done some things to Josie that were far from nice – but we told her she needed to get over it and maybe she’s changed – besides, he’s happy and oh yeah – she was pregnant! So, we all decided we were happy for him – that he had found such happiness and decided to give her a chance. She blended fairly well into the family – but there was still something about her that people always had their guard up. She was a good mom – they both seemed happy together, they were clean and she seemed to do less pathological lying! lol

The spring of ’09 consisted of spending alot of time with her, my uncle and their 2 boys, it worked out great considering they lived a half a mile away and the kids could play! Her and I would go for walks and she’d show up quite frequently just to say ‘hi’ with homemade goodies or suppers. Always calling to ask if we wanted to go have supper somewhere – he’d  generally say no and I’d talk him into it – just like she knew I would. We all had a ton of fun together, having fires, taking the kids on rides, fishing, grill outs – you name it. When they say ‘keep your friends close, your enemies closer’ – she did that perfectly! The more involved they became, the closer we got. I remember him coming home shaking that May, saying that my uncle went after him – saying that ‘he better not come near his wife again’. I was so floored and confused, why would he say that – what was he doing that he’d make that accusation? I remember watching him pace outside, scared shitless – he knew his days were limited. I remember thinking as I looked out the window, “is there something more to this, this is so weird.” When he came back in he said how my uncle was trashed and probably messed up on something again. They planted that seed well to avoid any eyes on them and whether or not that was the case, still didn’t excuse what they were doing. When I asked her about that situation – she said how bad it had been and that she needed to leave, that he was in so deep with booze and probably more that she can’t take it anymore – he’s lost his mind. Then there were things that started matching up, like I’d see him with a beer or people would comment that they seen him out and I’d think ‘oh shit, maybe she isn’t lying’.   I remember having a fleeting thought of ‘did you get him back into it, knowing this was his downfall and you could blame him and bolt?’ I was so embarrassed I even had that thought and dismissed it. She would have him take their kids home to bed and she’d stay and wouldn’t leave, finally I’d be tired and go to bed, again, like they knew I would. The interesting part was, I knew something was off with him – but she was good that I didn’t suspect her until right before things went south. I had a random fleeting thought, but once again dismissed it, because she never wavered – it was quite impressive actually! Blind as a bat I was at first. It came to the point that I made several comments that I wish I had included her in the wedding as I had gotten very close to her. Puke.

About a week or 2 before the wedding we were laying in bed and I said “do you even want to do this – I feel like something is going on and I don’t like it” he hesitated and said “I have something to tell you” – but it wasn’t that. It was something else he knew I’d hate and was hoping that’d be his way out. I said – OK, we can deal with this – I’m not happy about it, but I guess I still feel like you’re not here or into this. From there it went from we can’t back out because people have already done so much for us and there’s so much money invested to he’s just nervous. I gave him the option a few times to back out, I didn’t care what was invested – there’s no point in following through if there’s something more – but he couldn’t bring himself to say it and I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger either. I didn’t want to make an ass out of myself if it was just nerves and besides, I had already postponed the wedding a year, because I was nonfunctional after Josie. So, he reassured me it was just fine.  I had told her I got him Metallica tickets for a wedding gift and was so excited to give them to him because it was his favorite band! When he opened it at rehearsal dinner that Thursday, he barely reacted, I was like “hellooo – it’s fricken Metallica – we’re going to see Metallica!!!” He said – “I know – cool – thanks!” Again – I was thinking what the fuck – that’s it!? Later to realize she had told him. He sat in the bar the night before, I had no idea where he was until my parents said they were both down there. She brought him home late and trashed and I was so pissed!

We got married on D-Day (which I just realized last year HA!) It was blacker then hell with torrential rains from beginning to end that day. Beautiful the day before and the day after – but that day was terrible! She sat in the 1st few rows at the wedding, I can still picture her, I remember the look on her face when she walked in and thinking, that’s an odd reaction. It was one of disbelief and almost like she could vomit – like he’s going through with it, now what. My uncle stayed sober and drove us home that night, we were trashed and she kept saying they should stay for after bar. The rest of us said no, we were shot and her not being happy about it. Unreal what you observe, think and ultimately know without ‘facts’ and yet finding yourself needing something concrete in order to justify it, isn’t it?

Things calmed down for a week or 2 and seemed to be possibly mending. He started pulling back when she would call and ask and I was getting irritated because I wanted to go do stuff, but he kept blaming it on my uncle, how messsed up he was and wasn’t going to forgive him for making that accusation. I began to realize how much I was sleeping days away again and feeling just plain shitty, so without telling him – I went in and got my meds switched, hoping perhaps if I was feeling better, we’d start doing better.

On July 14th, I decided last minute to chop my hair without telling anyone, hoping I’d feel better and he’d like it. When I walked in and said “surprise!” he asked what the fuck I did that for. That’s when I knew there was more, of all the shitty things he had done, he never downgraded me (in an obvious way) for all the weight I put on, he never commented, he never told me I looked like shit, that I should or shouldn’t eat this or that, or that I should be going to the gym with him etc. And for someone that thrived off of his looks and body image – it was kind of surprising he didn’t! But this was on a different level and one of the few lines he had never crossed. I knew he was doing everything in his power to have an out and I wanted to know why. That night, as he put our daughter to bed, I went through his phone. The only thing I saw from her was “when do I get to see you again?” This was my own ‘D-Day’ – one that not only affected me on so many levels and in so many aspects of my life for years to come – but also my entire family as it was more then just me involved. For myself, my uncle, the 3 kids directly involved, my grandparents, my parents, my dad’s business (since he worked for my dad and was one of his lead guys), aside from that, they were very close, the ripple effect it had was beyond one household. After reading that, I felt like I was having the 1st of a few out of body experiences as the anger and emotions started to overcome me. It was a whirlwind, not knowing how I was going to approach this. So, I waited until he came down the stairs and from there shit hit the fan – and it didn’t stop hitting for the fan for a very, very long time!

Dreaming Another Nightmare

/ Revolution.07 / Leave a comment

blog - reality

Isn’t it funny how when you’re younger, your future plays out in a certain format? Your dreams follow this ‘ideal’ timeline of pure perfection! Life was going to be damn near perfect in every manner, there really wasn’t much I hadn’t dreamed up in my fantasy world – except that part where the train derails and I end up in bumfuck Egypt in the middle of my own shit storm that I really thought couldn’t get worse, but oh wait – IT JUST DID!
Let’s just rewind to the fairytale for a minute. Back to the dream land of getting a collage degree in Education, followed by being married by the age of 23, 1st child no later then the age of 25 (I didn’t want to be an old parent!) Then 2, maybe 3 more kids every 2-3 years to follow, I wanted them spaced just perfectly in age! I would have a nanny so my kids didn’t have to go to a daycare with other bratty kids! They’d be in a private elementary school in a larger community when they were younger so they learned diversity and the importance of it, but by middle school, we’d transfer to a smaller school system, so they could learn and appreciate the importance of a smaller community, I wanted to know the parents of my kids’ friends, and them to know everyone they graduated with,  like I was fortunate to have growing up. I’d be happily married for years, we’d travel a lot and my kids would have a lot of great experiences and memories, hopefully building the basis of their future by being curious of the huge world out there! We’d eventually move to the country overlooking the mountains to retire and enjoy the peace and quiet. Uh, life was going to be so great – god I couldn’t wait!

And then – one day – I woke up to a very different reality – back in Egypt. I was standing in the middle of a very different dream, more like nightmare, not knowing exactly how I managed to end up there!

Instead it went something along the lines of being 18, having a blast partying and working, going to the local college that I knew in my gut wasn’t going to pan out, but I played along with the role and ‘tried’ it. By trying it I mean I passed 2 of the 4 classes the 1st semester, the only 2 I was interested in to begin with, which was English and Psych. Instead I focused more on how damn good it felt to be living on my own, with 4 other good friends of mine, hanging with my new, good looking and older boyfriend, being free of rules, demands and chores and just plain loving life! This older boyfriend was eight and a half years older, which, at 18, is a big deal! Age is just a number on many levels, but at certain times in our lives, age does matter (I know mom – finally I got it! Better late then never 😉 ) I was with someone who was in a relationship, although I understood it at that time that it had ended (by ended, I believe he had moved out a few days prior), and I was also recently out of a relationship, for about a week (yeah – I know – total saints  – for sure). So, even though I more then knew better, he seemed very interested and I wanted it to be what I knew it wasn’t – but I still really wanted it to be what he made it appear to be!

As if age alone wasn’t a factor, the fact that he worked for my dad and was very close to him, was an obstacle in itself. But, rebellion was still running thick in my blood – so I ran with it, secretly hesitant, but outwardly, I’m sure I appeared cocky. I will never forget sitting in my parents kitchen, explaining to my less then impressed, quite frankly – my pissed off mother, that it was going to be just fine! The only thing I remember out of that entire ass chewing was her saying ‘you are nothing but a rebound to him and he is nothing but an infatuation to you.” Ouch. That stung. That stung alot – but what stung even more was when I had to call her bawling at 5 a.m. four months later – after my friend and I showed up at his exes house, banging on the door at midnight wondering why he was with her and didn’t have the balls to come to the door! (I’ve had prouder moments – yes).

I remember that sick heavy brick that festered in the pit of my gut for weeks after that night. I remember the replays, waiting for the next phone call, the begging, more lies, more apologies and finally, after making him ‘prove’ himself – me giving in. The ‘proving himself’ part consisted of him having to go explain himself to my mom, since she was the one that had to deal with 5 a.m. phone calls after months of seeing it for face value, I figured he could start there (not thinking he actually would!) This was the beginning of many more years worth of anger, manipulation, game playing and drama that I learned to play along with. Giving into something I knew wasn’t true, but again, I wanted it to be. Besides, he had spent years with her, of course he was going to go back, he still loved her on some level, how couldn’t he, maybe if I were thinner, older, more stable, more wise it wouldn’t have happened. Note for this next time around I guess, right? Welcome to my thought process!

I think more then my hate for him was the hate for myself, the way I held out for so long, just to give back in at the last minute. The hate for believing it, wanting it to be different then it what it was, but not knowing what that meant. Hating myself for not being what he wanted, for feeling the need to compete against other women, the bottle – anything. Hating myself for giving into the drama and nonsense, thinking every other ‘next time’ was going to be different then the previous last times. Hating myself for allowing the lies to flow so easily, for getting bogged down by it all, to the point of no longer caring, for giving into it, when I fought so hard not too, for so long. Hating myself for seeing it before it happened and yet waiting – almost wanting in some sick way – for it to happen again so I had a reason to bail again. I became reliant on the next fuck up, it kept us both fueled with anger, hate and drama – just to need some sick reason to make it all ‘better’ again – for a little bit anyways. And when it really came down to it, what I hated more then him – was myself – that I gave up me for him – that I changed my life, goals, dreams, morals and beliefs to fit something that was never in alignment with me to begin with. I hated myself for giving into the fear every time – the fear that he’d change for the next one and that I may miss being truly happy with him, fear that my daughter might not have the chance of knowing her parents to have a good, stable and loving relationship, fear that I might be alone forever, and that maybe I should be thankful he’s with me at all. That I thought I could change or ‘fix’ him – when it wasn’t about that – it was about 2 people that became miserable together on account of their own insecurities that were never resolved, caught in this vicious cycle that became routine, one that subconsciously we both thrived on. It was about 2 people that simply didn’t belong together, that again, tried to force pieces of the puzzle to fit, that were never meant to fit. It wasn’t about ‘training’ him ‘my’ way, with ‘better’ morals or expectations of him wanting the same family life I did, it wasn’t about ‘owning’ him or forcing him into things that quite obviously he wasn’t interested in, as his actions always showed it. He did fight for me on many levels, perhaps more then he had in previous relationships and perhaps in some ways- we could’ve been more – but not at that point in our lives. It had become so toxic, so full of mind games, when one was ready to party, the other didn’t want to leave the house, when one wanted to be saving money for a house, the other couldn’t blow it fast enough, when one was ready for marriage, the other wouldn’t even utter the word. We were rarely on the same page and when we were, it felt like we were on top of the world, that one week you would’ve sworn lasted 2 years without a single fight! ha Those short intervals were what I began to cling too, because that’s all I had – and they became fewer and farther between. And when push comes to shove – timing is always everything. After Josie, any speck of interest I had left, any excitement about moving forward in our lives, anything to do with him at all – was lost on every level within 24 hours after she died. As if the animosity wasn’t already there before – it intensified after that – he was to blame on every level for anything and everything I never did or didn’t do with her. And that was the beginning of the grand finale to follow – the one that trumped all other trumps. But then again, I guess that’s what happens when you choose to live in a fantasy world, talking each other, and ultimately yourselves into truths that weren’t ours.