Today, I should have been snuggled on the couch watching football with my love, enjoying the last moments of my holiday break. Today, I should have been laughing and talking about what the new year had in store for us. Today, I should have been making plans for our kids next weekend. Today, I should have been snuggled in his arms. Today, I should have…
If you would have ask me 5 days ago what I was doing Sunday, that would have been it. A lazy perfect Sunday with him. And now, I am laying in bed, drowning my sorrows in chick flicks and chocolate. My to do list is miles long and today I just can’t. I can’t face the empty, quiet house. I can’t face taking down the Christmas decorations that he helped me put up. I can’t face any of it. Today, I just want to hide. I would like to put on a brave front and go face the world but I can’t. I don’t have it in me. I might break. I might cry if a stranger says “How are you?” I just can’t, so I won’t.
I know that in the long run, this is the best decision for me and my son but in this moment, it really sucks. I am crushed. I am hurt. I am broken. All I want to do is get in my car and drive to his house and tell him that I love him and I want to fix us, but I won’t. I will choose me. I will choose my son. If I questioned if this was the best decision, the weekend has taught me that it is the only decision. A hard decision, but the only one.
It’s been over a year since we connected. In that year, there has been a lot of love, a lot of support, a lot of laughter and a lot of promises for the future we would have together with our kids. And all it took was one moment. And he drove away without saying goodbye. That was cold. What is worse? I have a few things of his and he has some of mine. All I want to do is put this behind me so I can heal, but I can’t. He will not let me. He does not even if the decency to text me back so we can make this exchange. He drove away on Thursday without saying good bye and has not responded to me since.
It feels like I never mattered. It feels like he never cared. How can someone be so cruel? So thoughtless? So immature? We are adults or at least, I thought we were. The last words he said to me when he was packing his car were, “You know I love you, right?” I thought I did but you don’t treat someone you love like this. I thought maybe, just maybe. But, wow. This is harsh and cruel and cold. He did a really good job of making me think that he was someone he wasn’t. The man I thought I knew would not do this.
Do you know what the hardest part is? I know he is struggling. He is struggling with his divorce. He is struggling with not seeing his kids as much as he would like. He struggled with the holidays. He is struggling with this post-divorce phase in his life. I know he is struggling and this is keeping me up at night. I am worried. Instead of taking care of me, I am worried about him. It does not matter how cruelly he is handling this, I worry. I know we will not spend our lives together but he matters. I love him. I want to know he is okay. I want him to be okay. How did I get here?
I have never had to walk away from someone that I was head over heels in love with. We didn’t fight. We didn’t argue. We had a great relationship. It was not always good for me but it I felt perfect in his armed This sucks. I think a tantrum is in order. Can I throw stuff? Is that okay? Can I drive to his house and pound on his door and say “How fucking dare you?” To do this to me is one thing. But my son? Those tears were so hard to watch as I told my sweet, small boy that his friends were not coming on New Years Eve. How do you tell a 7 year old that he will never see those friends again? Dammit!!! He already wanted to know if they would be sleeping over next weekend? What have I done? How did I make this mistake? What is wrong with me?
I think my picker is broken! Maybe I am broken. Maybe the reason I want to be with a guy that has a few issues is because I can focus on him and not fix the broken in me. Why do I always pick the guy that needs fixed? What is wrong in me that makes me do that? This is something I need to dive into. This is something I need to explore. Ultimately, the problem is me. So, how do I change? How do I make sure I don’t do this again? How do I stop this cycle? I need to take a long hard look at myself. I need to dive in. I need to figure this out. For me. For my son. For my future.
So, today, I will start. I will pick myself up. I will get out of bed. I will do something for me. I will get in my Jeep. I will drop of his stuff. He can keep mine. If he is not going to respond, that is his choice but I can not begin to move forward starring at a small bag of his kids toys. So, I will do this. I will drop them off. I will take the first step. This is so hard!!!!! I can hardly type because my eyes are blurred with tears. God, please show me grace and give me strength. Please help me to know what the right thing to do is. Please help me to handle this with dignity. Please help me to know what to say to my son. Please make the hurt go away. Please, I pray for brighter days. Honestly, I’d be happy with a boring, okay day right about now. But I know, right now I need to pray.
I got a reminder of #12days from my sweet friend, it changed my outlook today. I wrote about this right after my separation from my x-husband. She said, “Maybe that’s our motto. #12days We can do anything for #12days, right? When times get tough, 12 days doesn’t seem like that many. If we can make it 12 days, then we can make it 12 more, and 12 more.” So simple. So easy. So #12days. That is the promise I will make. I will make it through the next 12 days.
Okay, I took a break.
I pulled myself together.
My Christmas lights are down. The yard blow ups are hung in the garage to dry. Except the ones that are too high for me to reach. The ones that he put up. The ones he was going to help me take down this weekend. I need a ladder and a friend for that. Then, I gathered his remaining things, dropped them off on his porch and sent a final goodbye text. I needed to. I needed them gone. I needed the closure of knowing that I returned all his stuff. It’s a step, right? A small step but I got out of bed. I wiped the tears and I did something. It wasn’t big but it was something.
I am done with my pity party. I didn’t throw a tantrum. I didn’t throw anything. I let it pass. I didn’t yell at him. I kept most of my dignity. Well, not really, that final text may have ended with, “I deserve better than this. Have a nice fucking life.” But other than that, my dignity is intact. This too shall pass. These feelings will pass. Maybe in 12 days, I will see this all differently but right now? I have to live through the hard. I have to deal with my hurt. My anger. My resentment. My disappointment. I have to figure out how to help my son through this. I have to remember that my worth is not in who I am with but in who I am. And I happened to think that girl is pretty, freaking awesome. I have to remember I have been through worse and I made it, so I will get through this. I have to remember, in the midst of chaos, sparkle. Don’t let life dull your shine.
The Manicured Mom