The Thing About A Lie

Telling a lie is like giving birth to a newborn.

You spend a lot of time thinking about it before it comes,

then planning for it’s arrival.

Wondering what the right way will be to go about delivering it,

What if something goes wrong?

When it arrives you are scared and over joyed.

You did it.

You created a perfect entity that is a part of you, but also has a life of it’s own.

Why did you ever stress so much?

That is the calm before the panic.

Prior to when you realize it is going home with you.

Slowly you begin to understand you are responsible for nurturing this being.

Because what was only a thought in your mind,

now actually exists

and

lives with you.

It  keeps you up at night. Worrying all the time.

You have to be careful about so many things.

You may come to realize you may have made a mistake

and you don’t want to keep it any more.

It is way more work than you thought it would be to maintain.

It just keeps growing.

You can’t just wish it away, or take it back.

If only you could take it back.

The thing about a lie… it’s yours forever.

Only the truth will set you free.

It’s a weird thing divorce

It’s a weird thing divorce.  We were together for ten years.

We fell in love, we shared the same bed, the same dreams… or so I thought.

There was a time we knew each other better than anyone else in the world.

And now?

I don’t even know where you were last night.  Or with who.

But in my heart I see my husband on our wedding day. 

I see him at the end of the aisle with tears in his eyes.

And I see him standing beside me alone in the reception room.

 

I want to ask him how we got from dancing at our own wedding to standing three feet apart from each other complete strangers.

Would he be able to give me the answers I seek?

Marriage comes in phases.  Some good, some not so good.

But you work through things and you grow and you change and you stick by the decisions that you made.  That is your duty as husband and wife.

“knowing that the true magic of love is not to avoid changes, but to navigate them successfully.”

 

You read those vows with me.

When you felt like things were going bad, it was your obligation as my husband, my partner, my best friend, to tell me so we could work it out.

But you didn’t.

 

Somewhere along the way our marriage stopped being about us.

Me and you and the life we wanted to have got lost.

Or maybe it was just the life I wanted to have.

Because I realize now, the life you wanted to have, didn’t include me.

Did it ever?

I cared about your well-being more than I did my own.

I was willing to break my own heart before causing even the smallest hairline fracture in yours.

That was my biggest mistake.

Letting you think you were more important than me.  More important than us.

I want you to understand and take responsibility for what you have done.  I need you to be sorry.

But to feel sorry you have to feel remorse.

It hurts me to know you have no remorse.

 

What did I do to you to deserve what you did to me?

You have broken my heart.

You have ripped apart my dreams.

You have robbed me of the belief of marriage.

You think time heals all wounds and with enough of it we will be friends.

Time softens pain, but it doesn’t erase it. 

I will forgive you but I will never forget what you did.

Of all the people who hurt me, you are the cruelest of all.

I wear my heart on my sleeve.  I love this about me.

Knowing that the people I care about never doubt what I feel about them.

Knowing they go to sleep secure in the knowledge that they are loved.

I just wanted someone to share special moments with.

Someone who loved me as much as I loved them.

I stuck through all your BS hoping we would get back to that.

 

But that was never your intention.

Sometimes you can’t see the joyful part of your life until it’s gone.

Sometimes it takes a huge loss to remind you about  what you cared about the most.

 

And sometimes you realize you married someone who could care less.

She is me when we were we.

There is somebody new.

You are a we again, just not with me.

I can’t stop thinking of her.

She’s the one who gets to hear all the details about your day.

Which is more than what I know.

Her and I share a memory of a first kiss from you.

You who was suppose to be my last kiss.

I can’t be upset with her. She met you fair and square.

She wasn’t the reason you left me.

No. You didn’t leave me for someone else.

You left me for the idea of someone else. Which hurts so much more.

I think about how excited people get when they first start dating.

I hate that you are feeling this about someone other than me.

Planning things to do with her.  Dressing up for her.  How you hate dressing up.

But you’ll do what you have to do to get her.

You’ll make sure your feathers are up, spread out and on display.

And then she’ll get the same old t-shirts and shorts that you love.  The ones with the holes and stains.

The only clothes you never complained about wearing.  Of this, I am sure.

I keep thinking about how much you duped me into believing you were a fun and adventurous guy.

And maybe you are.  You just didn’t want to be with me?

So you shot down all my ideas for going out and doing things.  You wanted to stay home and play games on the computer. For hours.

But now you are a social butterfly.  Now you enjoy going out.  With her.

She’s getting the guy I fell for.  The guy I haven’t seen in years.

And she gets him without having to cook, clean, manage the properties, take care of an ill parent, run a business, and try to figure out why you are angry all the time.

She gets the new you.

The one who isn’t cranky about your job because now you barely work.

And when you grow closer to her, you’ll want to protect her.  You’ll feel sad when she’s sad.  You’ll want to cheer her up.  You will want to take care of her.  You’ll want to make her smile.

She is me when we were we.

Once you were so sure it was me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Now you are so sure that you want to start something new with someone else.

Someone new.

I don’t want to be a we with someone new.

I don’t want to go out and start again.

My scars are still bleeding a bit.

How do you do it?  How did you make the bleeding stop?

To Get Over Someone, Get Under Someone Else

So it seems that several of my friends think that what I need is to get fucked.

They think I need to find a good looking random stranger and work out my problems on his body.

But what I can’t get them to understand is that I already had that.

I’ve been fucked by a stranger for the past six years.

It has left me empty, self conscious, vulnerable and questioning everything I once knew.

That last thing I want now is another stranger entering me only to take another part of me away.

All Cried Out

I have cried everyday for 8 months.  Everywhere. At any given time

Some days more than others.  But everyday none the less.

Walking down the aisle at the grocery store is always a minefield.

He was my family.  He was my home. He was my safe place.

He took everything away.

And never looked back.  Never looked back.

He left me drifting.  Lost and alone on my sea of tears.

I’ve gone to therapy, talked with counselors, chatted with a priest and called my friends at all hours of the night.

I’ve done yoga, gone paddle boarding, power walked and eaten entire bags of peanut MnM’s, multiple times.

I’ve meditated, gotten massages and have been hypnotized.

I’ve taken sleeping, anxiety and happy pills.

I’ve read books on divorce, lost love, self help, survival stories and grief.

I’ve watched hours of movies, TV shows and online mind mushing crap.

I’ve cleaned, reorganized, and purged the refrigerator, my closet and the bathroom.

I’m screamed into pillows, sang sad love songs and danced till I couldn’t breath.

I’ve blogged.

He’s gone out on dates with multiple women.

Then today, I wanted to cry but no tears came.

I felt like I was going to cry… the emotion was there like a blanket all around me..but my eyes remained dry.

Was it possible I was all cried out?

A few hours later, cleaning off my desk, at the bottom of a stack of papers I had set aside a year ago, I came across a random photo of him.

And…. then they reappeared.

Hello old friends.

I thought you too had abandoned me.

Toe Cramp

I got a toe cramp today in the home depot parking lot.

It took me back to the only other time I’ve had one.

I’d just pulled up to our house when it happened.  I’d never felt that kind of pain in my toe and since it came on so quickly I got a bit scared.  It felt like my toe was bending up towards me, clearly the opposite direction  it was suppose to be, all on it’s own and I couldn’t stop it.

Luckily you were home, so I called you from the car and asked you to help me as I couldn’t walk on it.

You came out and carried me into the office and laid me gently on the broken leather couch that you had fallen in love with from the clearance section of the furniture store.

I was a little panicked that I had somehow broken my toe.

You tried to assure me that was not the case.

I still wasn’t sure.

You gingerly tried to massage it, but the pain was so intense.  Against my protests you carefully kneaded, stretched, prodded and rubbed it.

So patiently you babied my toe and me until both of us were back to normal.

Then you kissed my toe and me.  My night in shinning armor.

We started to make jokes and laugh about the whole thing and how I would’ve been stuck in the car if you hadn’t picked up the phone. We created all kinds of humorous scenarios.

We laid there on that couch, side by side, for a long time giggling.

But this time I can’t call you.

This time I have to take care of it on my own.

Just like everything else.

Of course I can do it on my own.  I just liked it better when you did it for me.

I did laugh, through the tears, at the thought of me kissing my own foot.  That’s progress, right?

God I miss you.

A Good Wife

I loved being a wife.

Loved it.

I loved cooking, grocery shopping, doing laundry and keeping a clean house.
O.k. I did NOT like dusting.

Taking care of someone, to me, is like taking care of yourself.
It made me so happy.

I was honest, loyal, caring and supportive.
I made sure that you kept your bank account and I kept mine with a joint one for bills.
I didn’t want us arguing about money. And we never did.

I prided myself for never being out of anything. From toilet paper to milk in the fridge, we were always well stocked. Your clothes were always clean and put away. Hung the way you liked.

If you lost something I knew exactly where to find it.

I didn’t make you go to baby showers with me. I treated you like a man. I encouraged you to go golfing and fishing with your friends. Sometimes I would set up the play dates myself for you.

When people would meet me for the first time they would say “THAT’S your wife?”
Frumpy, boring and plain were never used to describe me.

I was spontaneous, adventurous and funny.
I always tried to keep our marriage fresh and interesting.

I packed your favorite snacks when we went to the movies.
I packed your lunches for work. Always with a sweet treat tucked inside.

I gave the best hugs.

Was I perfect? No. Is anybody?                                                                                                                                                                              Would it have mattered if I was?

I was a good wife.
I am not a wife anymore.

Love Don’t Live Here Anymore

Two weeks and one day after the divorce he found someone online and started dating.
Two weeks and one day?
He said he was lonely.
I couldn’t breath.

Everything started to spiral out of control again.

Then the truth came out.

It wasn’t work that you hated.
It was me.
You had been mad at me for 6 out of the 7 years we were married.

You gave your reasons for being so enraged with me. I just sat there with my mouth open.
What do you mean that 6 out of 7 years you harbored ill feelings towards me?
Starting out small and letting it fester to the point that anger dominated all emotions you had for me.
But never telling me. Letting me believe it was all work related.

You knew 6 years ago that you wanted out?

And yet you stayed, waiting for what?
Laying next to me each night holding my hand.
Watching me spin in circles trying to make you happy. So we could be happy.
Sacrificing my own happiness for yours.
Believing you when you said it wasn’t me.

I had no reason to doubt you. And even when I questioned it you assured me I was incorrect.

And now you tell me you single-handedly sabotaged our relationship?
That you purposely didn’t tell me what was going on because you didn’t want me to fix it?
Is that why you didn’t want to try, because you knew all along you were going to divorce me?

So all of it was a lie?
How am I suppose to swallow that?
You have already taken away so much from me and now you’ve taken my memories too?

It is so hard to believe that love don’t live here anymore…
and apparently hasn’t for a very long time.

The Day After

I didn’t have any dreams.  I woke up fine…at first..then crying a minute later.

Yesterday I was your wife.

The day after, I was someone you use to be married to.

Someone you use to know.

I prepared food the night before knowing I wouldn’t be able to function.  I skip my meals anyways.

I keep myself busy every minute.  I make lists of simple mindless tasks to do.  Organize my closet. Put photos in an album.  Stupid things that I’ve always wanted to do but never had the time.

Today all I have is time.  It seems endless.

The silence in the house has never been so loud.

I remind myself to eat.  I cry when I remember there is no one else to do so.

I watch movies all day and cry. There is a funny part that I know you will love.

I immediately pick up the phone to call you.

Then I put the phone down and cry.

Even if I make it through this day…will anything be different tomorrow?

I am not a wife anymore.  I liked being a wife.  It meant someone loved me enough to pick me.

Being divorced means I wasn’t loved enough.

Everyone says how hard divorce is.  But they never say how HARD divorce is.

You simply can not understand it until you have gone through it.

After we divorced the true pain began.