I've been trying to write this post for so long. It's hard to put into words the things I have been feeling and going through the past few months.
Those of you that know me on a more personal level know that Paul left me in October. It was a normal night 2 days before Halloween. He hadn't planned on telling me he was leaving. We were getting ready for bed. I imagine had I not brought up the subject as to why he was being so resistant to buying a new house, he would have just packed up all his shit and been gone one day.
He finally told me the same old story. About how unhappy he had been for so long...that he thought he could do better...that he didn't want to even try.
I kind of slipped into another place. I was sobbing, but without tears. I felt strangely calm. I packed a suitcase and left that night. I haven't seen or spoken to him since.
The next week was a downward spiral. It took 5 more before I finally had a morning where I woke up and was glad to not be dead.
I loved him. With everything that I had in me. For 12 years he was my first and last thought every day. He was my best friend.
I always knew that I loved him more than he loved me. I was willing to accept that though. It was a small price to pay. And I could always try harder, be better, be happier, not complain and maybe he would love me more.
He cried during our wedding. I remember thinking " I wonder if he's crying because he's happy, or if he's sad that he's stuck with me now"
I never told anyone and it was a terrible thing to feel that way. But I couldn't love him enough for both of us.
The last year was so lonely for me. Things continued on as the always had. He was gone a lot , but he always was. I blamed my loneliness and heartbreak on everything but him and the new crowd of young kids he started hanging out with. Then there were nights where he was too drunk to drive home. He hated the house, hated my job, hated the fact that he couldn't sleep because someone was always keeping him awake...me, the animals, whatever.
I tip toed around him. I was always so quiet. I tried to be happier. I didn't even tell him about the new anti depressant the dr had put me on the week before.
The only thing I had ever been afraid of was losing him. I was sure I would die. The thought of all the days and years spiraling together into forever without him just paralyzed me. And I did almost die.
One night I was listening to wandering stars by portishead. It had been in my head for weeks. I read the lyrics for the first time..."the time that I will suffer less is when I never have to wake"
I cried for what seemed like hours. But that was the moment that it all became real to me. That I realized I could and had survived the one thing I was sure I couldn't live through. Nothing scared me anymore. Not even starting over.