This morning, we went to church. When church was over, there was this dumb lunch thing.
If you know me, you know I really don't like people, I don't like to socialize, and I DEFINITELY don't like this church.
We were sitting getting the kids together when, OF COURSE...someone comes up to us and is like, "Oh, are you going to lunch?" And it's like BLAM. Peer pressure. So we kinda smiled, and shrugged and tried to find an easy exit but there wasn't one.
I realized that lunch, even a socializing one, meant free food and I don't have to cook.
So I told Jon to put some crap in the car and before he came back, to check and see what this lunch was all about because I wanted to be sure there was something (particularly for Chelsea) to eat.
He comes back a few minutes later. I'm like, "Well?" And he just looks at me.
"I forgot," he said.
YOU FORGOT?!?!? IT WAS FIVE MINUTES AGO!
"This happens a lot," he admits.
Memory = down the toilet.
Idiot + ADD = Bigger Idiot.
WTF. I can't deal with this shit.
I was emailing....someone...recently and I came to realize that I want someone as nuts about me as I am about him. Because without that, life sucks. And it's not worth the risk and hassle. Period.
Yes, this is all over the place.
Not every moment is bad. Some are just quiet. Mostly, I'm alone. The children have gone from asking for Daddy to asking, "Is Daddy here today?" They know. Mostly, he's not here. He sees the children on Wednesday night, some of the day on Saturday and puts them to bed on Saturday night, and half of the day on Sunday. That's it. He's working 30 hours a week on top of his 40+ hours per week.
There are a few times when he takes my hand and thanks me for sticking it out; thanks me for "not giving up", thanks me for all that I am doing. When he tells me he knows this is hard and he's doing all he can to make it better.
That doesn't happen very often. But it happens.
In a little over two months, I will be 40 years old. FORTY. FUCKING FORTY. I don't feel forty, but I'm going to be. Somehow, I am going to be. And this is my life. This is me at 40. It must be a joke. Would someone give the punchline please so it can be over?
I have the money socked for the retainer. He doesn't know I have it, but I do. I'm close (ish) to having the money I would need to at least get an apartment somewhere and subsidize my bills for a few months. I don't have money to move, necessarily - like for a truck or whatever - but I have some. The lady has all of the paperwork she needs; the deed, tax returns, all kinds of shit. She has it all. I have the plan in place; file for divorce, then file bankruptcy. Finalize divorce and then finalize bankruptcy. Debt gone, credit destroyed, new life begins. He doesn't know any of it. He just thinks I'm keeping my head down, raising kids by myself and happy to see him when he gets home. He doesn't see the tears or much of the pain.
Two and a half months of this shit. Two and a half months.
I ask him how he could have done this and he says he doesn't know and that he's sorry. He says he "understands" now, like he never did before.
Isn't it too little too late though?
And which is worse? Staying for the kids or not staying? We aren't actively fighting anymore, we just have nothing going on. Oh, I know, I know....kids can sense that stuff. Eventually, mine will too. But hearing Chelsea ask for her father....and seeing how bad her behavior has gotten (and Joshua's too)...is this the right decision?
Am I going to stay in this shit for my kids? Oh God, am I? I can feel the respect just leaking from my pores. I have no respect for that. But am I going to be the one that does it? How could I live with myself? But how can I live with myself if I break up the family? He says he doesn't want divorce, never did....is working all of these hours to keep it together...he loves me, he's sorry....
Broken record.
I should have left him in 2009. I so should have. Chelsea was six months old and there was no Joshua. Did I miss my chance for a clean break? Did my stupid sense of optimism and hope destroy my chance at the life I think I deserve and desperately want? Am I really stuck with this? I know kids get over this stuff, sometimes...but my kids are different. Will they get over it? Will they ever understand? Will my daughter be some troubled teen who says, "My parents divorced when I was five..."
I know some of you pray. I don't think God is listening, but keep praying. He needs to send a fucking miracle. It's time. It's long past time. I need a bona fide miracle. Period. There is nothing else that will save this.
Miracle. Just one. Please.
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