The Fight

I don’t know too many details, but the Monday before last, I was at work and the ex sent me an IM. I hadn’t heard from him in awhile but sometimes no news is good news. He simply told me, ‘I didn’t want to bother you, but I got in a fight the other night.’ Well, all of the undoing and removing and distancing I’ve done over the last 18 months or so got completely erased and I felt a familiar but frightening wash of panic sweep over me.

It turns out that he walked a few blocks from the apartment to a bar where a lot of young people hang out. I am close to 40 so this is anyone younger than me 😉 Anyway, I didn’t want too many details, but he was likely blacked out and running his mouth and some “meathead” kicked his ass. My ex is not a big guy at all. He’s 5’9″ if he stands up straight and the most I’ve ever known him to weigh was 165 and there’s no way he weighs that much now. It wouldn’t have taken too much to beat him up in a drunken stupor. He told me that his eye was black and blue and completely closed up; he said he was worried about his legs; that his knees were pretty bad. I kept asking if he was OK or needed medical attention an he said no, that he was just sad and lonely and went out someplace he had no business being. Now, I understand there are consequences but there is a sliver of me that just feels so bad for him. I don’t want him to have to live sad and alone and get beat up (I mean, what is this? Who gets BEAT UP?) and it’s just all so pathetic. I also know though, that I cannot help or save him and I told him that repeatedly that morning. I expressed to him that I was sorry that it happened and that he puts himself through that misery. I also told him I am happy he was OK and hadn’t been killed. He apologized but I told him he had no need to apologize to me; that all I ever wanted for him was to see him be able to live happily and sober.

He also went on about how he cannot keep lying to himself that he can do this, so he is planning on going back to rehab. He said he shouldn’t have left in the first place, but again I say if I got scabies somewhere and also lived with bedbugs, no amount of coaxing could have made me stay, but that’s just me. He said he was meeting with them again that Wednesday for an assessment and he went. I think the wheels are again in motion for him to go back in there. Maybe third time’s a charm.

That would leave me with a messy apartment, lots of furniture I don’t have room for, his personal belongings that I don’t want to throw away nor be responsible for and of course – and this is the one thing that will bring me to tears – my two cats that are left. I am going to have to try to figure out a way to have one of them and have asked a couple friends to be on the lookout for a home for the other. It all just seems so final and that is what I want, but my whole life I have turned away from conflict or things that make me uncomfortable and this situation sits at the peak of my mountain of situations that make me feel anxious, uncomfortable and fearful. I lost sleep about it and when I finally opened up to my boyfriend about it he said he would help me move furniture, clean, whatever I need. I know he will, too; it’s not just lip service. But it’s going to be a lot and it’s going to open wounds I’m sure, and it will be time consuming to the point that I will likely have to take time off of work that I don’t want to.

I suppose it’s all a part of a work in progress which is me getting my life back and him attempting to stay alive. It is me in the process of moving on after having stuck myself in pretty deep for almost sixteen years. I have a lot and I mean a LOT of work to do but at least I have not gone back like I had so many times in the past.

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Crying

I can’t sleep. My mind is running and it sucks because I have an eye appointment in the morning I need to get up early for. My flu is almost completely gone, too.

I knew him being civil to me wouldn’t last. He sent me a message that our furnace wasn’t working again. We’d had some trouble with it last year and the landlord (my grandfather) had it fixed. Well it’s acting up again and apparently I can do something about it. He was saying how unbearable it was there. I asked if he wanted me to call my grandpa. He went off about he’d have to clean and blah blah blah blah. Then said, I want you to start taking your stuff out of here. To which I promptly replied OK. Then he said he wished he’d known I was never coming back when I first left. I don’t know what difference that would make, but then he said, “I’m sorry I was never there for you”. I didn’t know how to react. It caught me off guard. I just told him I didn’t have any ill feelings towards him and that he didn’t have to apologize. Then he said:

“i have to. it hurts tonight. i had somebody that adored me. i had so many chances. and i just fucked up. i thought i would be dead by now, and that’s how i lived my life. it was horrible of me to put you through that.”

Well naturally, I cried. Not a ton, but I cried. I don’t know why, either. Acknowledgement? Sadness that it’s truly over? Happiness? I just don’t know. Maybe because I still, after everything, feel bad for him. He’s not a monster, but he has one living inside of him.

There were countless nights I cried myself to sleep. Countless times I reached out for affection and got a cold shoulder instead. Tried to hug him and he just stood there, arms at his side, motionless. I used to beg and cry and attempt to reason with him not to drink. I used to hide and tiptoe and avoid him. I used to cover and lie for him. I was always on his side, supporting him, hoping one day I could look back and think, Thank God that’s over with! But that day never came and it never would have and I’d still be there, smelling the smoke and asking him to please eat something and worried sick he wouldn’t come to Thanksgiving with me. I don’t miss it, I want no part of it and I’m happy to be gone.

But why am I sad? Why am I crying?

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The Flu

I’m totally sick with the flu. Or some other equally evil virus. Started two days ago with swollen glands in my throat…felt like I couldn’t swallow. Then I got achy, then yesterday afternoon the chills and fever started. Today the body aches and chills are thankfully gone but my neck feels horribly sore, along with my glands and it’s radiating up into my head. I hope it’s gone soon.

I’ve had a rough time with the husband lately. He’s nice one day, drunk the next and mad like a hornet the day after that. I haven’t seen him going on close to two weeks I think. One weekend I couldn’t go anywhere because I had car issues and he was not pleased or sympathetic. He was mad because the cats needed food. My mom graciously dropped some off for me. Then last weekend he wanted cigarettes, quarters for laundry and sweetener. I told him Saturday that I’d come Sunday to take him to the store but Sunday morning he called me, angry saying he hated me for leaving him with the cats. I asked him if he wanted to go to the store with me or just to drop the groceries off and he hung up on me. I tried calling back and texting and got no response. I didn’t make the trip. Somehow he managed to get drunk and by Tuesday was telling me to come give him a couple bucks for drinks. I told him there was no way.

Rewind to late Monday around 11:45 at night… I got a drunken voicemail from him stating that if he steps in another pile of cat puke he’s going to stick a pin or pen (I couldn’t understand him) into my face, voodoo style.

So I told him his drunken voicemail had set the tone of my day and that I never leave him horrible messages like that. I said of all the things you’ve done to me I never talk to you or treat you with anything less than kindness and respect and I’ve NEVER gotten the same in return. As I could have predicted he called about a dozen or so times after we’d hung up but I didn’t answer. I didn’t acknowledge him until he sent me an email yesterday with a photo of two of my cats. So I IM’d him and told him I wasn’t feeling well and he’s been quite civil to me since. Last night he told me it’s been a bad week for everyone but I hope you feel better. Today he told me again since I hadn’t responded and I thanked him and told him I was basically in bed by 7 last night.

I don’t regret my decision and don’t think I should go home but these moments of normality with him make my heart feel very sad.

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