There may not be any poeticism or deeper lesson in this post. I just feel like I need to get these feelings out.
I haven't talked to my husband for a week. I haven't seen him in almost 2 months. I haven't worn my rings for a while now. And I call myself separated on the off chance anyone asks. It was awkward at first but was starting to feel normal and like a fact. The interactions between us went as probably any interactions go between people in this situation. Sometimes volitile. Sometimes more open and honest. Sometimes pained. Sometimes explosive. And then we went a week without speaking. May not sound like much but in 4 1/2 years, we have never done that. We have been forced by one reason or another to go as far as 46 hours without contact. Otherwise, even as a separated couple, we spoke daily or near daily. Then, we went a week without speaking. During that week, he was in Peru on a "spiritual journey" and I was in Mexico working hard toward my dreams and focusing on just me.
I expected the week to be grueling and hard. I didnt have a lifeline. I thought he was essential. Even if we were fighting, I still had a person to touch base with to keep my grip on a marriage I thought might last forever. The life I thought was going to be easier and more carefree. The man who I was supposed to love and who was supposed to love me. The person who I believed, at some point, was my best friend and partner. The life that turned out to be not at all what I expected but I fought harder and harder to keep within the limits of what I could tolerate. The life that I lost myself in and got pretty broken trying to hold on to. But, the week wasn't hard. It wasn't grueling. As a matter of fact, I realized that when I wasn't focusing on him, I was able to turn to me and really focus on myself. I could concentrate on what I really wanted and how I really felt. And I didn't feel guilty or wrong for it. I felt like I was free from the tether of expectations and approval seeking and damage control. And it felt good. Just as the last five months of separation had felt good. Just like having him out of sight and out of mind so much of the time felt good. I felt free. I felt like I'd finally severed the one last tie to a person who was nothing more than my last remaining crutch to cling to to abate my fear of being alone. I felt HAPPY to be alone and realized I had for quite some time. I realized he wasn't a crutch that helped me move forward but a chain that held me back.
But then a message popped up on my phone screen. Seven days of absolutely no contact, two months since we had seen each other's face and he said he had booked a flight to Mexico for tomorrow. I had no idea how to feel. My initial reaction was anger. I wasn't even sure why. I felt blind sided. I felt like a decision had been made regarding our relationship that I was, once again, not privy to. I wasn't allowed to participate in that decision. And I was angry. But after disclosing those feelings, the more important root of those feelings came out. The root of all anger, of course, is FEAR. I was scared. I AM scared.
I have tried to keep the more intimate details of our split under a careful sheet of discretion. I have tried not to publicly discuss all the ins and outs of the mountain of things that culminated in our separation. I have tried to only speak in general ideas. And I will continue to try to do that. But I also want to try to understand my fear. What am I afraid of?
I think my main fear is that his purpose for coming to my country isn't what he says it is. He says it is to show me change. He says it is to show me that he has made some realizations and transformations. To show me that the abuses and punishments and demoralizing behavior is all in the past. I can accept, in theory, that it is possible for people to change. I can accept even that the change can occur in an epiphany moment, so it can certainly happen in a week! I can accept that deep down, he has just been very confused by his own programming and is capable of the changes that would lead us back to each other. But, my blind faith seems to have expired.
Or perhaps I am just a coward. Or maybe I have now devolved back into a self protection mode to the point that I put up a wall against being hurt again. I simply am afraid to hope. I am afraid to give him the benefit of the doubt. I am afraid to go back there again. I am afraid I will be let down. Again. I am afraid I will be stomped back into the place that I just spent an enormous amount of energy and tears and fight and strength to crawl out of. I am afraid of losing myself again in the name of this man. Of ANY man.
And I told him that. In different, more specific words, but the same meaning. I am terrified and don't know if I can have any faith or hope. The doubt is enormous and the fear is twice that. His reaction seemed to be to just give up. That made me angry again. I shared my feelings and his reaction was to say "well, nevermind then." I am not mad at him for his feelings. I don't really know why I am mad. The simple fact that he just gave up and said he would cancel his flight felt like another kick to the stomach. I guess I expected him to ease my fears a little and try to assert his good intentions. To say something soothing or be more of a rock of hope that I could try to believe in. But he didn't. He just said he would cancel his flight. I don't know why I even took the moment to hope.
And then he quietly "unfriended" me on facebook. That, of course, sounds silly and insignificant but it felt like a punishment for sharing my fears. It felt punitive as do so many things he does. And then I wondered if he had really changed at all. Wasn't he just doing what he always does? "I will show that bitch! She wants to have feelings and be human, I will do something to hurt her. I will reject her and make her feel like I feel. I will play on her abandonment issues and kick her back down. I will show her!" Again. And so I tried to call him this morning after some time passed from yesterday's conversation. His phone is turned off. Straight to voicemail.
Round and round the merry go round we go. I don't know how to feel. I don't know if I am angry or discouraged or ok or strong. I do know that I feel like I am back on the roller coaster that I have little control over. And it isn't fun anymore. I don't know if I just want off the roller coaster or to leave the park completely.
For now, I will throw on my wet suit and throw myself into diving and see where the roller coaster is in about 8 hours. Because I can't change anything but my own reactions. I can't fix anything but myself. And that feels good.
No comments:
Post a Comment