I miss being part of a pair. I see couples, married, joking and having fun. Laughing together at their kids or smiling together watching their kids accomplish something. That was one of the things that ol’ Cheater McCheaterson said to me, that wasn’t awful, that he didn’t want to miss me looking back at him smiling about something one of our kids just did. Smiling and proud and happy. That was one of the things that seemed real and heart felt but probably was manipulative. I despise this personality disorder from which he suffers. You can’t take anything at face value. Even if some things are just that….just as they seem. I can never trust that they are.
I really miss having someone to snuggle with on the couch. I miss holding hands and hugs in the kitchen. I even miss ass grabs…and dry humps from behind when I was incredibly too busy. It was all silly and playful. I realize these were just crumbs. There were tons of low blows and jabs along the ways. There was always resistance and always criticism. I was willing to love through all of that, with only crumbs. I don’t think I thought I deserved better but I knew I didn’t deserve infidelity. Not the first time, which I was willing to forgive if he would’ve been willing to do the work. The 2nd, more disgusting time, during the time he was suppose to be working to repair our marriage, was just too much for anyone to take. Then all the mean stuff afterwards.
I miss being a part of a pair. I miss the visions I had of our future. Shit, I miss having happy visions of my future. Now all I have fear. Fear not knowing what to do. Fear of not knowing how to do it. Fear from not having my parents to help me figure it all out, even if only emotionally. Their encouragement helped me push through the fear before. Knowing they’d help if I needed them to, helped too. Even if I never needed them, knowing they were there mattered. Lately at night I have been lying in my marriage bed, starring at the ceiling, and wondering how the hell I got here. Will I always been alone? Will I ever be comfortable with anyone else. Do I even want to try? Then I think I’m not ready but I’m not getting any younger. Getting older makes me feel ugly. I wanted to grow old with someone. A pair of oldies. Didn’t seem as bad that way. Men seem to look good when they age. Women sometimes just look old. It’s totally not fair. Maybe I need Botox. Maybe a pair of Botox injections.
It’s raining. I’m moody in the rain. Sad and moody rain girl wishing for a spoon 🙄. Needing some sunshine.
☀️ 🌈 🍀-iom