“The tragedy of love is literally being ignored. You look at each other as if you’ve never shared a past; almost as if you were a complete stranger. That, my friends, is the bitter revenge of love lost that you’d rather not taste.”
Not sure what other choice I have, but I do know getting violent gets you nowhere and at light speed. (Like, so fast that if you took Dash Incredible and combined him with The Flash, I don’t know if survival would be an option. It’s that fast).
Hell, I don’t know what he thinks. I don’t know if he thinks I would go day in and day out withstanding the emotional abuse, watching my best friend deteriorate right in front of me, and me being unable to do a thing about it. Not one damn thing.
I’ve learned how to ignore the son of a bitch, so that helps. A little. So I have to leave.
I’ve always been a romantic through and through, but I most definitely got the short end of the stick in that regard when I married D almost 18 years ago. Pre-S (pre-stroke), D was never the romantic in the kind of way I wanted or needed. Moreso needed. He’s got a weird version of romance, but I guess after we had our first child, he somehow learned to grow up. I could sense him thinking about how romantic it would be for him to do something like this or that, but he always told me after he didn’t do it. Example: the day after my birthday, D said he was gonna take me on a trip or he was gonna lip-sync my fave song at a bar or do karaoke to a song we both loved and dedicate to me…he was gonna. Story of his life. I really thought he thought of those things, and he was just lazy. Now, I think maybe he’s not so lazy, just not in love.
Post-S (post-stroke), that adorable, semi-romatic part of D doesn’t live here anymore. It’s gone.
I Cannot Ignore the Lie
There aren’t many things that I absolutely loathe. (I try not to say the word “hate” because my mom and dad taught me a bad word, a cuss word when I was younger, and somehow it still feels funny saying it. Odd as I drop f-bombs like a motherfucker. Although, I still say please and thank you like a saint). There are two major actions that I have to walk away from; things…I could do without.
First and foremost? Lies. A liar. Being called a liar should be the worst insult in the book or hell, even illegal to call someone that name unless substantial proof is available to back up their argument. How can you, or do you ever trust someone who simply cannot fucking tell the truth to save their souls? What the hell kind of truth are you running from is what I wanna know. The very first time I knew doubt existed was when I heard my mom tell a lie. It was some stupid, unnecessary lie, too. She called them “little white lies,” but they didn’t feel so little. During my teenage years, everything I said was a lie, and maybe it was; I don’t remember much of that time anymore. The very first way to lose someone’s trust is by telling a lie, even “little white lies” (and why are they white lies? Who came up with that?)
“The tragedy of love is indifference.”
– W. Somerset Maugham, The Trembling of a Leaf, ch 4
The second thing I loathe: being ignored by someone who loves you. Being ignored is kind of like a slap in the face to your other half. Those are the two biggies, the big things that I hold people accountable for, and they’re simple, really. I do the same for them, always. Why lie when you just have to remember all the steps you lied about? Why ignore somebody? Just get your feelings out and move on; they’re just words.
I told him today yet again that I was going to file separation papers. He told me I was fucking stupid and walked out of the room. He always walks out of the room, usually when he doesn’t like something he hears or doesn’t want to argue. I feel like my reaction is only to his action. It’s always how I respond. You know, I can even come up with a compromise and say I don’t need romance in my life, I don’t need adventure, I don’t need money, I don’t need a goddamn thing, but the guy I married. Yeah, I’m gonna need that guy back. If I can’t have that guy, then yeah, I want the romance and the money and the materialistic bullshit that comes with 18 years of marriage. I didn’t want to be the one who left the guy who had a stroke. I didn’t want to be the one who broke the ultimate, “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do we part,” vow, but what am I supposed to do?
What would you do? How would you handle the predicament of your spouse of 18 years no longer being the spouse you’ve known? The spouse you fell in love with and started a family with? Maybe it didn’t start with this stroke. Maybe it started earlier than that, and I just missed it. Maybe it started when my stepdaughter moved out.
“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the end.”
– C. S. Lewis
I can’t just call my parents right now or stop at their house when I really wish I could. My stepdaughter has invaded that area of my life and lives
off with them right now. We haven’t talked to her in almost two years, but they invited her to live with them because she’s their granddaughter. I say whatever to that. You do you, but you’re ignoring your daughter for her, and that’s sad.
One of the main things that bother me about my whole situation, is my parents and most of my extended family. Well, mostly, my parents. They have been married 47 years (even made it through my dad leaving my mom two or three times), and they were overly strict while I grew up. I don’t know if my father cheated on my mother or not; that’s not my business, but I do know they got through it, and God damn it, D and I are stronger than that!
Their relationship started out in high school and now, my parents don’t even like each other. They’re basically biding time. You can see it sometimes when they act like they’re in love, but really I mostly feel like that’s a little white lie. Oddly enough, I miss them so much. Isn’t that quite sick? They are not good to me. They are not parents you would want around you, insulting you in front of your children or mocking you, making you feel like you’re the dumbest, most gullible person in the world. Clearly, I don’t worry about my kids holding their own opinions of me because my parents have carved that out for them. So far, my stepdaughter and my parents share a common enemy. We’ll see how many go to the dark side.
My dad made a comment to me in front of my son once, and I’m damn sure he remembers. A few years ago, and unfortunately, in front of my parents, I told Jax that if he picked up after himself, he wouldn’t lose his screen time. Shocking the SHIT out of me, my dad responded with,
“Well, that’s your job, Jenny. You’re the mom. You’ve quit all of your other what? Fifty-some jobs just to play the mom – that’s the only job you have!”– my father y’all
He laughed and laughed. I wanted to die because not only was he belittling me and my parenting in front of my kids, but now I’m supposed to do everything for them without teaching them how to be better people? I think not, old man. My dad has always given me shit in front of everyone about how many jobs I’ve had, where I’m working now, what I’m going to be today, etc. etc.
The Depression Hits Harder Now
Again, I’ve come to one of those really dark places, and I haven’t been here for a while. It seems darker than ever before. Everything’s more pronounced, enhanced, and somehow a deeper, darker color. I think of my daughter’s transformation to the testosterone she’s been chucking into her little body to become something she feels more like (don’t get me wrong: I love my daughter, do not ever, ever doubt that. I will always support her, but she’s making a huge mistake, and she’s messing with the chemicals in her head. I don’t think she even talked to her psychiatrist before starting the T. Again, that’s not my journey. I play the role of Mom because I am the mom.
“Life went on, but it was never the same again.”
– D. Jones
I really miss the dad helping out. I miss the patience he had because I lack all of it. I miss how he used to want to be close, but I also remember how we met and how I truly seemed like just another notch on his belt while he went through his divorce. I married him then, but positive he only proposed because we got pregnant. And probably pressure from my very Catholic family. I know he did fall in love with me at one point, and I was on top of the world. People saw that and commented about how in love with each other we were.
Yes, the opposite of love is indifference, but I think the opposite of love is also ignoring the one you used to love. Or hell, maybe ignoring the one you thought you loved. I hate being my spouse’s “mom” now, cleaning up after him, and making excuses to myself as to why I can’t leave him. Sitting in the Starbucks parking lot, I’m ready to break down and cry where no one can see, especially the kids. It makes me feel completely vulnerable and scared.
I’m alone. I feel lonely. I feel like the love of my life, my best friend, has moved on without me. Yet again, it seems I’ve lost another person in my life who means the world to me. Sucky, sad, shit.
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