What are you doing here?!
That's all I kept thinking to myself over and over again. I wanted to leave, and he wanted me gone. So why was it that every time one of us tried to go, the other would fold? Do we love each other, or do we just fear being alone? Do we want to be together, or do we just want a warm body next to us at night? Will we ever know?
I wish I could remember now, the reasons that I married him. I wish I could recall that special look I gave him, the one from when we were in love I wish I had known that this whirlwind romance would end on a sour note, and we would both be trapped. Too proud to say goodbye, too bitter to work it out. This is what I always feared would happen.
My friends all tell me I can do better than him. They all told me that he wouldn't change, he wouldn't grow up, he wouldn't put my needs first. They were right. But, they never knew him the way I did. They never saw the man behind the mask. They never held him close as he cried the day he lost his job and his father on the same day. They never looked into those deep brown eyes and saw the sorrow that I saw. They never saw how much he needed me there for him. They never saw.
He was everything to me at one point in time. He was the only man alive who could make me smile. He was the only person who made me laugh so hard, I couldn't breathe. He was the only person who referred to my hysterical laugh as "choking a clown." He was the only one.
He showed me off to all of his friends in public, but in private he wouldn't touch me. He told me how much he loved me every day, but told his friends and co-workers he had married me for different, less noble reasons. He told me I was his whole life, and he lied.
I wonder if he ever figured out why it was that I hated him so much now? I wonder if he ever understood why my heart broke into a million pieces every time I laid eyes on him. I wonder if he knew all of the stories that I was aware of. I wonder if he knows....
He was once my prince charming, or so I thought. It turns out he was a magician. All he was good for was stealing my heart, stealing my life, crashing my world apart, and turning his back on me. All he was good for, was pain. I wanted so badly to let him know how I felt, but all it ever did was create an argument. I wouldn't allow that anymore. I wouldn't waste anymore of my voice or tears on pointless fights. No. I couldn't do that to myself anymore. He always had to be right. I could cry until I was blue in the face, repeating with facts reasons he was wrong, but he never believed it. I am always the bad guy.
I remember a time where things were amazing. Our first night together was spent in an old blue victorian house. The heat was off, and we didn't have enough money to turn it on. We slept together on the floor that night, holding each other tighter than I'd ever been held, and tighter than I'd ever held anyone. It was forty degrees out that night, and thirty in the house. We had no blankets. All we had was each other, and a few winter jackets. That was all we needed. In that moment, all I ever wanted was to be held safely in his arms forever.
Unfortunately, time passes...years go on, time marches forward, and things change. More than things changing, people change. The man I once loved, no longer was in my life. I wish I knew where he went. I wish I could find the man who let me lie in his lap watching horrible movies while he played with my hair. I wish I could find the man who snuggled with me every night even though it made him hot and sweaty. I wish I could find the man who held my hand in public and showed me off to his friends. I wish I knew where that man was. I wish I was still his top priority, but I'm not. Other things have come into his life, things more important than I, Things he will deny.
He doesn't love me. He wants to believe he loves me because he wants to be heroic. He wants to be the knight in shining armor, who rushed in on his trusty white horse to save the damsel in distress. He wants to believe that I am indebted to him for that. He wants to believe that our love is genuine and real, but it isn't. I will love that man until the day I die. I will love that man with every ounce of my being for as long as time allows. I have proved myself time and again through the multiple scandals, lies, and affairs. None of that matters to him. All he cares about is his own success and happiness.
Where has my love gone? And what am I to do now that I am stuck here all alone? I don't know the girl that I'm supposed to be now. Someone save me.
1 comments:
This is a continuation of the Divorce Diaries, right? I think this feels A LOT more like a diary writing than the first one. I like it. You could cut a detail here or there, but I would leave it like this cause it feels like a journal writing to me, and that's what you are going for. Here is an exercise for you...just for fun and more charactere developing. Write a couple of journal entries from BEFORE things got bad. It might help you when you are reminiscing the good times, to me those parts come off almost unbelievable, so this might make it feel more real. Also...I think you should do a detailed character sketch of both the woman writing the journal and the man in the story. That will help you get to know them both more. Great job!
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