Sunday, February 20, 2011
Nothing left but the funeral
I spent decades seeking and yearning for emotional validation until I finally realized he simply doesn't know how to give it. You can't get water from a rock and it's futile to try. To try for 30 years is sheer stupidity. When I stopped looking for anything from him I freed myself in a small way. It's not my fault if he comes home from work in a bad mood. Silence and brooding have always been his best weapons. But I don't need to fix it. It is not my problem. I do not need to let it affect me. I don't need to hear that he loves me or to have a present on a special day. I don't care any more. I buy my own presents and flowers. I look after my own emotional and physical needs.
If only making the final cut of divorce were so easy. I try to picture the words coming out of my mouth. I try to picture the best time to say them. I picture what might happen after I say them. I don't do drama. I hate big scenes. I don't want to have to ask my baby girl if she wants to move out with me or stay with her dad. I used to be so afraid he'd throw me out. Now I almost wish he would. It would probably be easier that way.
My friends tell me I should talk to a lawyer. But who? And how do I pay them? So many unknowns. So many obstacles. So much of it swirling and clouding my mind. So much pain for other people just because I want to be happy.