She never really liked my face

She never really liked my face

But I looked okay,

Maybe about average

on a good day

Mine was the kind of face she could take

or leave

But she liked it even less when I shaved

When she first saw me

Without scruff

She said “ewww”

She said I looked like a creep

Actually she used the words

“you look like a pedophile”

***

And I still feel self conscious about that

All these years later

Any time I look in the mirror

Or talk to a stranger

I worry that I might look a little worse than ugly

Like the worst kind of monster that could ever be.

***

So what the fuck did she actually like about me?

She liked that I liked her.

Looking back, that’s what I think

She liked the comfort.

And she likes the confidence that came from my compliments.

She liked the rebound.

One week into our relationship

She told me if her ex walked through the door she’d leave me for him

In a heartbeat.

And that sucked but I stuck around, thinking she just needed time.

To heal

***

And we argued

Endlessly

About

Really

Really

Really

Really

Really stupid stuff

I left her after about a year of these stupid arguments

Or rather, I tried

She sobbed so bitterly

That I was afraid she might actually kill herself

She begged me not to leave, stammered between her tears that “this couldn’t be happening”

I thought maybe she liked me after all

But now I realize, she only needed me

(As an emotional support animal)

So I waded back into those polluted waters

I thought I could heal her

And make her whole

But what about liking her?

Did I

Like her?

***

I always thought she was pretty.

And we had fun.

And I loved her.

But her personality

Was flawed so deeply

She needed therapy

she knew it

But… she just wouldn’t do it.

So, foolishly

I let her keep leaning on me

***

I dug deep, found things to like,

And told myself the things I didn’t like

(The things no one could ever like)

The flaws in her confidence and in her character,

Those could be worked out

With patience and love

After all, she had promised to change….

Promised to do better

And I believed her

***

But what about her liking me?

Or liking anything about me?

***

She did like my eyes

I guess that’s something.

But she only noticed them once or twice

When ahe happened to actually look at them

Oh— and she really liked my hair!

She loved to run her fingers through it

And scratch behind my ears

(Like a good dog)

That was before I lost it all to the stress

And…

I guess

I always thought she liked my voice, that’s one thing women alwaya seem to comment on

So I just assumed she liked it too

But no

Fifteen years later I learned my voice had always bothered her.

Not in a hot way.

But in an annoying way

Whenever I spoke it grated her nerves, rubbed her wrong

It was worse when I sang,

So I stopped singing happy songs,

And only sang the sad ones,

Always low enough for her not to hear

But she’d hear me anyway, and tell me I didn’t have enough soul to sing the blues

So I would fall silent

I wasn’t happy

But I stayed because

She still needed healing?

Or???

Because I’d made a promise?

I knew this was not a good place to be

But obligations kept me chained

Still, I was not liked, let alone…

… Loved.

***

She certainly did not like my body, she said I wasn’t in good enough shape for her

Said that from the start

Though she eventually conceded a truth:

I was in far better shape than she’d ever been

So what?

The point was:

I turned her off

She said she always liked my brain though.

So she said.

She said she wished she could be as smart as me.

She claimed that she saw me as a genius

She said that was the main reason she wanted me

From the start

But that was just smoke up my ass

She did not trust (or value) my judgments

She criticized and dismissed every thought I ever had

But she actually did like my arms. She said sniffing them made her feel high

So she’d rub her face up and down my wrists, like a cat on a bed post

And she’d steal my sweaters

Just for the smell

***

Despite all this, she claimed she loved me

She just wasn’t in love with me

Not anymore

And that’s why she never said nice things

And that’s why we started sleeping in different beds

And that’s why she wanted to go back to being just “friends”

But

I didn’t hear the friendship.

Didn’t see it

Didn’t believe it

Didn’t feel it

All I felt were the strained obligations of a husband and a father

And a housemate

She actually said I deserved better

That I deserved someone who actually liked me

So I asked why we were even together, and she said

for the kids

She said I was a good father

And attached enough guilt to the thought of leaving

to keep me from walking

To keep me bound

To her

She suggested a platonic co-parenting

For the sake of the kids

But I told her the truth:

platonic cohabitation

Would be perpetual rejection

And I couldn’t shoulder such raw isolation

So she threw me occasional consolations

I mean sexual ones

A handful each year

And she regretted them

And so I began to regret them too

So our resentment grew

She told me not to feel bad

She said she just had no libido whatsoever.

She just didn’t wanna do anything physical

With anyone, ever

So she said

She blamed it on her depression

And on her medication

Then she went back to her smutty fanfics

And closed her eyes,

All the better to imagine someone else

And that was her consolation

Because when she imagined someone else, she loved it

Wanted it

Needed it

Ain’t that some shit?

Then I caught her outright lying

I finally had the proof

Though she tried to hide it

Tried to say he was just a friend

But I knew:

She had plenty of libido,

just none for me

I left her to make way for her “someone else”, thinking and hoping she’d be happier

That he’d be a better fit for her

(And he was.)

She bragged about how well he fit

The very night I left her

She said her “friend” was just the right size

(Actually she said he could hammer her mouth without hitting her throat)

Said she was having way more fun than she ever had with me

Because he didn’t have to be gentle

(He could sink it to the hilt without ramming her tonsils)

She smiled when she told me

(What a joy)

But I could not grudge her that autonomy.

Because she was finally happy

With someone new

And because I was finally happy too

Without her

And it would have felt wrong to enjoy my free and joyful solitude

If she were still miserable

And, thankfully,

He was everything she ever wanted

(Not just because of the fit)

He was from the same continent as her celebrity crush, and

That really mattered

…

He was a bit of a fetish

A bit of a vicarious fuck

To scratch off her bucket list

But she also wanted to make it work

So she tutored him in English

And he gave her dance lessons

And face fucking lessons

And she was happy

Until he decided she was a distraction

Until he broke things off

And she rebounded to the next guy

And I still hope she’s happy

But I’m burnt out on caring beyond the peripheral acknowledgment that she’s a human being

Deserving of kindness

And a healthy life

Still,

I can’t help pitying the guy

Because

Looking back, from the perspective of freedom:

he might be in for a long, bitter ride

***

And there’s a lesson there, in the muck and the mud and the crud

when I look back from the perspective of newfound freedom

I realize

I am the one who held my own cage shut

Hindsight declares my stupidity

I thought I had to stay— but was it loyalty?

I stayed for the kids, thinking they needed a two parent household

But wasn’t I smart enough to know that a disfunctional two parent household would be more damaging than a functional single household?

Didn’t I see my kids learning from us— learning from our fights?

Learning how to hurt?

Learning how to suffer?

Learning how to hate?

Why did I need proof of poison to spit out something bitter?

Fact is: I didn’t

I could have left sooner

I should have left sooner

But I made excuses

Endless

and endlessly stupid

Excuses

Because I was afraid of change

Thank God I caught the lie.

Thank God Almighty

I needed the spur to kick me into action

If luck hadn’t revealed itself and made that decision for me,

We’d still be together

Me, making excuses for her

And watching our kids whither

And telling myself this was for their good

And telling myself things would get better

Telling myself staying was all for the best

And telling myself their outbursts and tantrums

We’re just normal kid behaviors

BUT

When I got the push and left

when the kids and I moved out,

We ALL got better

Practically overnight!

My middle stopped stuttering

And he stopped hitting himself in the head

And my youngest stopped stomping and yelling and scowling

And my oldest

My oldest stopped saying that he wished he’d never been born

And I knew this was all for the best—- and this time it wasn’t cop out

It wasn’t an excuse

It was the full and final motherfucking truth

We all smile more now

We all have peace

And it’s real

And I don’t think I’d ever have known how different peace felt if I’d kept myself sheltered by ignorance

***

So what’s the lesson in this mess?

Should I feel proud for finally leaving?

Well

… I don’t

All I feel is regret

for not leaving sooner

I have my kids in a safer, happier place

Where they don’t witness adults yelling at eachother

Where they can thrive and smile and laugh

Because they’re no longer bombarded

By grownup drama

And they don’t need to clamp their ears and clench their eyes

To hide away from the conflict within their own home

I should have taken them somewhere safe

Far sooner

They were vulnerable, they needed protection

But I gave hesitation

And that bruised their little hearts

***

I have to tell myself:

Don’t stay where you’re not

Wanted

Or loved

Or welcomed

Don’t make excuses for a toxic relationship

Don’t linger

If you KNOW you’re in the wrong place,

Just FUCKING leave.

Next time,

If there is a next time,

Don’t wait for undeniable proof, because you might not be so lucky as to find it

you’re too good at trusting others

That means you trust too much

(And that kind means you’re NO GOOD at trusting others)

But why the fuck didn’t you trust yourself?

You knew staying in that house of hostility and anger and rejection and resentment was wrong

Don’t be so weak next time

Don’t make excuses for someone who’s telling you

(And showing you)

She isn’t worth your time

Patience cannot demand unlimited second chances

Neither can love accept willful blindness

***

***

***