The Beginning of the end

The day was like any other. I can look back now and see all the signs of discontent, but I still can’t see the signs of destruction. My love & trust in this man was like none other. He held and saw every part of me, betrayal by him was something I could never fathom. Sometimes I still can’t.

The year has been hard. I’m depressed, overworked, overweight, falling back on old patterns of depression and pain, but pretending everything is ok.He has been going out most nights, and days, always alone, I excuse it in my head-after all he is home all day with the kids right? I’ve been working on a way to reconnect our marriage-resentment on both sides this past year has been pulling us apart, and my idea to bring us together is to plan our 15th wedding anniversary as a time away to reconnect, it’s only months away & I can make it perfect. In my mind, It’s the perfect plan.

His is to find another woman, other women.

I have blocked most of the night away in my unconscious. It’s to painful to remember. I only allow myself to remember wanting to cut my heart out & lay it at his feet, that I would prefer that as it would be less painful.

He finds me in the kitchen. He tells me he has something to say, but doesn’t want to hurt me. My first thought is that he knows my plans of the surprise for our anniversary, but then he starts speaking.

“ I don’t feel the same about you anymore. I haven’t for awhile”

2 sentences. He shattered me beyond all recognition as I stare in disbelief, as the hot tears begin to slide down my face and all I can think is to run away, he will come find me, he can’t mean that, what is happening,

Oh my god no

Oh my god no

No no no no

I run to our bedroom, he comes in minutes later and my heart jumps for joy. But it’s only to tell me he is leaving to hang out with a friend.

I stare in disbelief.

A stranger stands before me wearing my husbands face.

I still don’t understand. My head is screaming at me to see what is happening.

My heart will not.

He takes our car to fuck someone else as I’m left contemplating how to find the will to survive. I come too close for comfort, only stopping by the knock of my child at the bedroom door. I hide the blood on my wrist with a sweatshirt. I can feel it dripping & I welcome it. Each drop fuels my resolve, Please remember who the fuck you are:

You will not break. I will not break. We will not break.

The next days pass in a blur.

His relief is palpable, his indifference to my pain is unbearable.

I will not break.

He tells our children. They are devastated.

We now have only each other, these tiny souls and I. We cling to each other.

He smiles more, refuses to leave the home.

His torture and laughter, to her and his friends on his phone while we break down further fill me with so much pain I am constantly throwing up. He never cares to notice.

A stranger. A stranger in our mist.

Within days of seeing just the sliver of the truth, I find the strength to make him leave the home we share. The home we have loved in, raise our children in, the home he is burning to the ground with his deceit and fantasies of a life with another.

I resolve to let him have her. Let them have each other as they flaunt around & pretend the bond they share is anything but what it truly is.

My heart refuses to let go.

My head screams at me to let him continue the destruction he so easily has brought for you to hold, the remnants of the family and souls ties you had thought were in breakable are frayed, a slight tug is all that is needed to break them forever-do it and let yourself be free.

My heart refuses to let the words penetrate.

I lay in wait for when he returns.

Of course he does. Not even a month passed before he came begging for a chance.

This happened 5 times. Each time I allowed him to eat my soul alive as I cut myself open so he could feed from me and not our children.

We suffered for his betrayal and he laughed behind our back. Blamed me for making him feel guilty. Blamed me for our children not wanting to be near him.

I am ashamed of who I allowed myself to be, the lies I told myself were far more harmful than what he did.

He set me free. Free to find a love that was not selfish. Not a childish boy, but a man who would know the Queen he has by his side, and remind me when I forgot.

But I’m still here. It’s been 8 months since that fateful night. I allow his lies to fill the air, to fill my empty heart-space. I play pretend every second and wonder when I will break. Yet I know the truth, I’m already broken. I don’t know who I see in the mirror-but I know I hate her for her weakness. I scream silently into the night.

I ignore myself as I’m sacrificing myself for the greater good. That is how I make it through each moment. To know that my children need a home with both parents. How I wish, just this once, that I could love myself enough to tell the truth to myself.

But like I said…I’m ashamed.

Where do I go from here?

How did I allow myself so much misery and call it a life?

It is a prison. One I have put myself in and threw away the key.