I came home from Sugardope Sunday. The Husband was home. (He’s not actually my husband, but I call him that because we’ve been together eight years now. We never married.)
He looks at the TV. He says I should sit down. CNN is on. I think, “He’s going to tell me about the captured US soldiers on videotape.” And I think to myself, “I already know this.” So I say “I already saw this just this morning.”
And he turns to me and says, “I’m moving to Texas.”
“I’m sorry,” I laugh, “I thought I heard you say you were moving to Texas?”
“I’m moving to Texas. J and I are getting married.”
And I say “Oh.” just like that. There’s no crying or swearing. Is this happening to someone else? This is weird. I’m here. I’m looking through my own eyes. I can see myself. But I’m not really here.
At this point, you should know that J is an ugly woman with terrible teeth. He went to Texas and had an affair with her about a year and a half ago. A few months later he brought her to a conference I help run and flirted with her constantly. That was a little embarrassing.
And he says, “I want to be a father to our child.”
And I say, “We don’t have a child.”
And he says, “J and I have a child together, a daughter.”
And I say “Oh.”
So I do the only thing I can at this moment. I throw up.
I’ve been washing that stain on the carpet for three days now. It won’t come out, no matter what I try. I’m out of carpet cleaner. I might try bleach next. I think I’ve gone a little insane, trying to get that stain out.
We were going through what I called “The Cold War.” Two months after we bought our house, our relationship just…stopped. Everything stopped. I thought it was just a rough patch. But I wanted to stick with it as long as I could. Because I loved him. Stupid me.
I never told anyone about how rocky things were between us. Not my friends, not his parents, no one. I couldn’t speak of it. I was so embarrassed. I was a failure. I don’t know why, but I can speak now. I have to. It’s like a poison in my system that I now have to purge.
Maybe I knew this was coming. But I didn’t want to face it. God, I’ve had so much crappy shit happen to me lately. I just need to catch a break.
Please, I just need to catch a break.
I’ve called in to work and told them I’ll be coming in tomorrow. They heard what happened. I’m not sure how. I have to go in and do some work. I know it won’t kill me, but it sure feels like it will.
I know some of you have sent me email. And I’m sorry I haven’t responded. I can hardly operate email now. I’m still learning how to breathe again. If I can just learn how to breathe again, I’ll be all right.
I’m not sure this should be in the Pit. There isn’t a lot of swearing, but I might like to come back later when I’ve learned how to speak again.
And then maybe I’ll swear. Or scream. Or break something.
Or maybe I’ll just learn how to breathe again and take it from there.