Tuesday, August 6, 2013

August 5, 2012

I had barley heard from my husband all weekend.  He had texted me Friday saying that his friends grandfather had a massive heart attach and didn't make it.  They wanted him to stop over.  Of course, go to your hurting friends.  All I asked was don't drink too much and please come home. 

I knew he wouldn't.  Don't drink too much?  Those guys were probably already wasted.  Ok, that's fine.

Most of Saturday went by without any word from him.  He wouldn't answer when I called.  His phone would go straight to voicemail.  Wouldn't respond to texts.  What in the world is going on?

I finally heard from him via text and he said he was watching 10 kids with his friend and would be home soon.  Ok.


Hours went by.


I got a two second phone call saying his friend took his keys and hid them so he wouldn't leave.   Really?  Are we 12?  Grow up.


In the wee hours of Saturday night/Sunday morning I reached one of his friends who was wasted.  They told me my husband was drunk and passed out on the couch.  Fantastic.


Sunday morning he finally answered my call and said he had made it to work and he was coming home after. 

I decided to make him homemade jalapeno poppers and BLTS for dinner before letting him know that I didn't appreciate how he couldn't take the effort to just call and say "Hey, I'm gonna hang with my grieving friends for the weekend, ok?"  That's all I wanted.


I knew when he walked in the door.  I knew what was going to happen.  I had known it for a while but wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge it. 

He asked me to come into the living room to talk.

He had his ring off.  I noticed it instantly.


"Why is your ring off?"

"This isn't working out."

"What the fuck do you mean this isn't working out?"

"I'm not happy.  I'm not meant to be married."


EXCUSE ME? 

I can't remember the conversation that occurred after that.  I remember taking things that were displayed in our living room from our wedding and throwing them at him.  Yelling and cursing at how they were useless now.  I remember yelling at him that he wanted this.  I never once pressured him, nagged, or even joked about when he would propose.  THIS IS WHAT HE WANTED!

He had no response.  Fucking asshole.

I told him to get the fuck out of my house. 

He took a change of work clothes, one of our two pit bulls, and a box full of his marijuana paraphernalia (yes, I had married a pot head.  Let's not talk about how stupid Trish was).

I cried.  So.  Hard.

I cried as he grabbed those few things.  I cried as he leashed up our dog.  I cried as he walked out the door.  I cried harder and harder at each step he took.  My world had just crumbled around me and the one person that I wanted to comfort me was walking out the door. 

I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't move.  What just happened? Is it really happening?  Am I dreaming this?  For the love of God, WAKE UP!

My mom made it to my house in record time.  My best friend lived seven minutes away and I swear she was at my house in less than two. 

The rest of the night is a complete haze.  I have no idea how I even slept.   At some point I had texted the twat that I had married and made arrangements to talk and for him to pick up some things the next day around 2 p.m.


I needed some answers.  I wrote everything down that I wanted to say or ask.  I was prepared to start talking and to mend my marriage.  He told me himself that marriage was forever.  And I was going to hold him to that.

When he arrived nothing was said for a short while.  Finally I started asking questions.


Too much stress from the house?
Money?
The move back to Michigan?
My weight?
Was I no longer attractive to him?
Not enough sex?
Someone else?

The list went on.

All he said was no. No. No. No.


He told me I was amazing.  I did so much for him even when I didn't want to.  So what you're telling me is there is nothing wrong but you're not happy?  WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM THEN???

No answer for that either.

He bagged up most of his clothes and loaded all of his tools into his truck.  I cried. He wouldn't even look at me.

I couldn't understand how you could just ignore someone who is in so much pain.  Especially someone you claimed you loved.  I cried so hard I couldn't even breathe.  He did nothing.  I watched him back out of our driveway and watched him drive down our road and had no idea when I would see him again.