I have no control. My situation goes back and forth, and from one day to the next things change. I'm not a fan of this. I'm not a fan of not knowing. Of not having a plan or an end goal. It's frustrating, and beyond defeating. But there is nothing I can do about it. I just...put one foot in front of the other to keep pushing myself forward.
My husband says that he's not in a good place. He says he is unsure of every little thing in his life. He's confused. He's not sure if he'll ever be ready. Sadly, my daughter and I suffer right along with him. I've been told so many different things over the past month that have left my head spinning: I'm wanted, but then I'm not. I'm too jealous, but then I don't pay enough attention. I'm missed, but then not missed enough. I have done too little too late, or too much too soon. I am not enough, but at the same time I'm too good for someone like him. I've been told that I should leave him alone, stay out of his business, and yet I am the one at fault for not repeatedly informing him of events that pertain to our daughter. He wants us back, but then he doesn't miss our life. It's back and forth. Back and forth.
My nights are no longer my own. Before I was comforted in knowing that at
some point, whether it was 9 pm or 1 am, he would bring himself home to
us. He's not anymore. That reality is like being kicked repeatedly in the stomach every time I step through our front door. And at night, I find that my mind races and my heart feels so heavy with the sadness. He's living in a different house with his brother now. They throw parties, and invite other women over. My gut tells me that something is bound to happen, if it hasn't already. Playing with fire like that is not good. But, that's what makes him happy. One morning as we drove by I saw a woman's car parked in their drive way. And I remember just feeling so heartbroken. So lost, confused, and just hurt. From the back seat, as she looked out the window at their house, our daughter quietly stated, "Mommy. Daddy's not coming back home, is he?" And just seeing the look on her face made my heart crack. Our new reality hit me again, full force. "No, baby, I don't think he is." After I dropped her off I saw the pictures plastered on social media of the four of them all hugging each other on their couch. Later that morning when I asked him about it, he told me that I needed to stay out of his life. To stop "stalking" him because he needed space. The woman that stayed over was his brother's girlfriend, he said. He also stated that they were all just friends, and he was entitled to those. I guess he's right. However, I don't think what he's doing is very respectful to me, or to our marriage. Because, we are still married. I have male friends, but I don't go out partying with them or hugging all over them. I have more respect for my husband then that. What he's doing. Who he's inviting into his home. That's just like pouring gasoline next to an open flame. We no longer take that route anymore. It was too much for me to handle. And our daughter no longer asks to go over to see him.
Prayer, my parents, and the few close friends who know what is going on have been really getting us through our days. Keeping busy, and finals approaching next week have been huge distractions. The hardest time for me is at night when Em is finally asleep, and I'm left alone with my thoughts. I constantly wonder what he's doing, and who he's doing it with. Is he missing us? Does he regret his choices? Will he ever find his way back to me? Would I even want him to now that he's taken things so far? Sometimes, I get angry. I tell myself that I should not be okay with being a "second choice". I should not be the backup that someone settles for. I refuse to be someone's afterthought. I deserve to have someone who wants me, through the good times and the bad ones. Someone who fights for me; for us. My daughter and I deserve to have someone in our lives that wants to spend time with us. To be a family. I deserve to be wanted. Then there are nights when I sob into the shirt he left behind because I miss him so much. I feel like I'm being crushed by the weight of all the pain his absence has left behind. It echos in everything. The empty walls that once held his musical instruments. The silent rooms that no longer hold his laughter, or the music he meticulously worked on every day. And the empty drawers I refuse to fill up because they were his. I curl up on the couch, shirt in hand, and I close my eyes while I cry. I sit there long into the morning hours, waiting, pretending that he'll walk through the door at any moment.
