Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Why 4:30 a.m.?
Why do I wake up every morning at 4:30 thinking of my husband? No alarm clock, just melancholy memories of everything good about him. I have to walk to the bus stop in the bitter cold to get to a waitress job, so I should be angry and hateful over this change, my new standard of living that's barely living at all. Just surviving.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Nicknames of an EX
Nicknames of an ex
I can't remember when LA Boy stopped having a name and was just called LA Boy. But break ups are hard and broken hearts sometimes need a push. So perhaps it is too much to have my husbands name in my essays and letters. A nickname for him and an evening of blog editing for me. Nothing mean or rude, but fitting. RG is how I will reference him from here out, not his initials, it's just a cheesy reference to the Julia Roberts movie Runaway Bride so RG / runaway groom, after all the marriage was just eight months, it might take me longer to edit his name off of my blog.
I can't remember when LA Boy stopped having a name and was just called LA Boy. But break ups are hard and broken hearts sometimes need a push. So perhaps it is too much to have my husbands name in my essays and letters. A nickname for him and an evening of blog editing for me. Nothing mean or rude, but fitting. RG is how I will reference him from here out, not his initials, it's just a cheesy reference to the Julia Roberts movie Runaway Bride so RG / runaway groom, after all the marriage was just eight months, it might take me longer to edit his name off of my blog.
Friday, February 13, 2015
Dear RG
Dear RG,
Here I am again, writing to you because we can't talk. I wish I could know why you have so much hatred, so much anger. I wish I could know if you had any kind thing to say about me. After the email I received from you yesterday I can't imagine you have any kindness towards me. I still care about you. I worry how cold you are on the scooter in the winter. Have you forgotten every kind thing I ever did? When you grandfather liked me and I bought him an electric razor. When I was the only person he would let shave him? He called me princess and told you to let me have the wedding cake. You broke up with me and left our marriage when he died, and your grief was so huge. I can't change how sick I was when your grandfather died.
Do you remember any kind thing you said about me? The last time we went fishing how you gushed over me when I caught that fish. When we were first dating we were at 7-11 and I asked you how did you like the new video game you bought. You had such a look of shock, and you said no one had ever asked you if you that. I still wish I could ask you about your day, your life. This break up is yours, please stop being angry. I begged for you to stay, I begged for you not to move out, I begged for you to reconcile, to work things out, therapy counseling. I begged while you hated and left. You have the breakup you wanted why are you still angry?
Here I am again, writing to you because we can't talk. I wish I could know why you have so much hatred, so much anger. I wish I could know if you had any kind thing to say about me. After the email I received from you yesterday I can't imagine you have any kindness towards me. I still care about you. I worry how cold you are on the scooter in the winter. Have you forgotten every kind thing I ever did? When you grandfather liked me and I bought him an electric razor. When I was the only person he would let shave him? He called me princess and told you to let me have the wedding cake. You broke up with me and left our marriage when he died, and your grief was so huge. I can't change how sick I was when your grandfather died.
Do you remember any kind thing you said about me? The last time we went fishing how you gushed over me when I caught that fish. When we were first dating we were at 7-11 and I asked you how did you like the new video game you bought. You had such a look of shock, and you said no one had ever asked you if you that. I still wish I could ask you about your day, your life. This break up is yours, please stop being angry. I begged for you to stay, I begged for you not to move out, I begged for you to reconcile, to work things out, therapy counseling. I begged while you hated and left. You have the breakup you wanted why are you still angry?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Still human
When my husband ended our marriage it sent me into a crippling depression. I'm still drowning in it today. My husband left a thousand unanswered questions, but as I sit here crying for the millionth time, I wonder when did I stop being human? I drove him to work for three and a half years and I am now walking, biking and riding the bus to work. Winter weather that he wouldn't leave a dog out in, I am out in that weather getting to work any way I can. I am saving to get a car, but it feels like forever. And even with the mess he left, I still don't hate him. I don't understand him but I don't hate.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
I remember screaming
I remember screaming. I couldn't stop at just crying. I was beside the bed we picked out together and he was gone. He hated me. I crumpled into the floor. I was howling. Crying so loud that everything hurt. Visceral and thick, loud and ugly. I just couldn't stop. That whole month I just couldn't stop anything. I couldn't stop the break up and I couldn't stop how messed up I was. I still don't understand that month.
I couldn't even scream 12/28/90. I cried quietly and was just numb after. When I was a little girl and watched my father beat my mother I never screamed. I was quiet. The day after my mom would have "that talk", the talk where she would explain how "those fights" were our secret. I had to be quiet and not tell. Be quiet, keep those secrets. I wish I had kept quiet September. Everyday I dissect every detail. Thinking thinking over thinking. All the what ifs. There is no what if to fix it. Only what to do to survive it. I get up, I cry less every day. Sometimes. I breathe. I go to therapy. I mourn. Yes I mourn. My marriage was everything. I didn't take it for granted. I trusted it would always be there. I didn't throw it away like a forgotten piece of mail misplaced in the trash. I didn't forget my vows, I just got sick. So I mourn the loss. The loss of the life we had together. Cooking huge amounts, how much I just loved cooking for him. I even miss hanging up his clothes on the clothes line. The bickering over mowing the grass. Trying to buy him every hot pepper plant I could, then he would only eat the jalapeƱos.
So I mourn. I cry. I breathe. I phone a friend when I need a kick in the butt. And now I pray. Never before this break up, but everyday I pray now. Everyday I am blessed with what I have and every night I pray. I know little by little I am surviving. It's hard.
I couldn't even scream 12/28/90. I cried quietly and was just numb after. When I was a little girl and watched my father beat my mother I never screamed. I was quiet. The day after my mom would have "that talk", the talk where she would explain how "those fights" were our secret. I had to be quiet and not tell. Be quiet, keep those secrets. I wish I had kept quiet September. Everyday I dissect every detail. Thinking thinking over thinking. All the what ifs. There is no what if to fix it. Only what to do to survive it. I get up, I cry less every day. Sometimes. I breathe. I go to therapy. I mourn. Yes I mourn. My marriage was everything. I didn't take it for granted. I trusted it would always be there. I didn't throw it away like a forgotten piece of mail misplaced in the trash. I didn't forget my vows, I just got sick. So I mourn the loss. The loss of the life we had together. Cooking huge amounts, how much I just loved cooking for him. I even miss hanging up his clothes on the clothes line. The bickering over mowing the grass. Trying to buy him every hot pepper plant I could, then he would only eat the jalapeƱos.
So I mourn. I cry. I breathe. I phone a friend when I need a kick in the butt. And now I pray. Never before this break up, but everyday I pray now. Everyday I am blessed with what I have and every night I pray. I know little by little I am surviving. It's hard.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Dear RG, All the things I don't understand
Dear RG, All the things I don't understand
I don't understand any part of you leaving. I drove you to work every week for three and a half years and we had a normal amount of arguments and one or two break ups a year before we got married. The break up that stuck? The first one when I didn't have a car and couldn't drive you anymore. Every day that thought kills me. The whole what if I still had a car would things be different. What if I hadn't made the mistake of changing industries. I'm thankful to have a job, but I need to get back to health care to get my finances straight. I know your not coming back but I still need to get my finances in order for me. Waiting tables has me treading water and it's exhausting. I'm making baby steps everyday and I'm thankful for that.
I wish you could explain all the bizarre parts. You used to hate when I said ugly things about my first husband, but you have gossiped about me a lot. Why do you think everyone has turned against me and hate me? I still have the same wonderful friends and they still love me the same. Six months before you left me, you disliked those same gossips at your work. I remember when you heard them gossiping about you. The girl that swore you fit the profile of a serial killer and the other girl you heard laughing about which of your eyes was the lazy eye. I love you so much I never knew which eye was the lazy eye. It wasn't important to me. I just loved you completely. Those coworkers of yours, their opinions were so important when you left me, not a single one them called and checked on you when your grandfather died. Not a single sympathy card. Your job didn't even call and check on you when you went to the emergency room in August. I remember when you hated that place so much you were putting in applications everyday. And I remember the day you got so upset when your memory failed you. You were filling out an application and you told me it took you a long time to remember what year it was. I still worry about that. You said you thought your memory was messing up from time to time. I wanted to help you, I wanted to take you to the VA for help. Now I have to get over losing you, because I know you can't remember how great we were. I know you used to love me and it is lost somewhere that you can't find anymore. I can't forget how much I love you, and you can't remember how much you loved me. That is what I will never understand.
I don't understand any part of you leaving. I drove you to work every week for three and a half years and we had a normal amount of arguments and one or two break ups a year before we got married. The break up that stuck? The first one when I didn't have a car and couldn't drive you anymore. Every day that thought kills me. The whole what if I still had a car would things be different. What if I hadn't made the mistake of changing industries. I'm thankful to have a job, but I need to get back to health care to get my finances straight. I know your not coming back but I still need to get my finances in order for me. Waiting tables has me treading water and it's exhausting. I'm making baby steps everyday and I'm thankful for that.
I wish you could explain all the bizarre parts. You used to hate when I said ugly things about my first husband, but you have gossiped about me a lot. Why do you think everyone has turned against me and hate me? I still have the same wonderful friends and they still love me the same. Six months before you left me, you disliked those same gossips at your work. I remember when you heard them gossiping about you. The girl that swore you fit the profile of a serial killer and the other girl you heard laughing about which of your eyes was the lazy eye. I love you so much I never knew which eye was the lazy eye. It wasn't important to me. I just loved you completely. Those coworkers of yours, their opinions were so important when you left me, not a single one them called and checked on you when your grandfather died. Not a single sympathy card. Your job didn't even call and check on you when you went to the emergency room in August. I remember when you hated that place so much you were putting in applications everyday. And I remember the day you got so upset when your memory failed you. You were filling out an application and you told me it took you a long time to remember what year it was. I still worry about that. You said you thought your memory was messing up from time to time. I wanted to help you, I wanted to take you to the VA for help. Now I have to get over losing you, because I know you can't remember how great we were. I know you used to love me and it is lost somewhere that you can't find anymore. I can't forget how much I love you, and you can't remember how much you loved me. That is what I will never understand.
Friday, January 2, 2015
Food trucks and left field
Food trucks and left field
One minute I thought I was in the "best marriage ever". Then September happened. A perfect storm of every bad thing at once. A Shakespearean tragedy, I thought my husband was completely happy until thirty minutes before the breakup.
Rewind to a month before the breakup. I wanted to take a break from nursing, and buy a food truck to run with my husband. I thought his cooking was the best and I loved how happy he looked in the kitchen. The pride he had with cooking. My sappy bohemian dreams of starting a micro farm and running a small food truck with my forever husband. Why not believe our marriage was going to last forever, it was still brand new. Only eight months. He supported my ideas and supported me taking a break from being a nurse aide. I took a huge cut in pay to work at a sandwich shop in walking distance from our home. I thought it was fun. I watched videos of micro farms and vertical gardens. I found a used food truck for $3000 and was hoping to get it with my tax return. I thought the perfect theme would be coffee because of how much my husband loved coffee. He would drink tons of it all day every day. I researched and thought I could start the truck with under $5000 of coffee equipment. I thought it was a happy goal that we shared. I still can't believe he would let me take such a huge cut in pay if he knew he was about to leave. I regret my decision to change industries, and will hopefully be back as a nurse aide as soon as possible. It won't get my husband back, but at least I will get my life back on track financially.
One minute I thought I was in the "best marriage ever". Then September happened. A perfect storm of every bad thing at once. A Shakespearean tragedy, I thought my husband was completely happy until thirty minutes before the breakup.
Rewind to a month before the breakup. I wanted to take a break from nursing, and buy a food truck to run with my husband. I thought his cooking was the best and I loved how happy he looked in the kitchen. The pride he had with cooking. My sappy bohemian dreams of starting a micro farm and running a small food truck with my forever husband. Why not believe our marriage was going to last forever, it was still brand new. Only eight months. He supported my ideas and supported me taking a break from being a nurse aide. I took a huge cut in pay to work at a sandwich shop in walking distance from our home. I thought it was fun. I watched videos of micro farms and vertical gardens. I found a used food truck for $3000 and was hoping to get it with my tax return. I thought the perfect theme would be coffee because of how much my husband loved coffee. He would drink tons of it all day every day. I researched and thought I could start the truck with under $5000 of coffee equipment. I thought it was a happy goal that we shared. I still can't believe he would let me take such a huge cut in pay if he knew he was about to leave. I regret my decision to change industries, and will hopefully be back as a nurse aide as soon as possible. It won't get my husband back, but at least I will get my life back on track financially.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)