I don't know how I ended up here. How I found myself in this position at this point in my life. Im broken.
I had always thought myself emotionally invulnerable, that nothing and no one could break me. When I first met him I was so in control. I knew that I wanted, where I was going, what I was going to be.
Somehow (and I don't really blame him for this) he became the focus of my universe. I found out what he wanted and took what was left over for myself. I figured out what was best for his benefit and did it silently.
He thinks I was selfish for wanting, but he doesn't see the generosity and the kindness behind my actions because I never did anything ostentatiously.
I didn't demand he see, I didn't expect reward or recognition.
When I left I gave all I had- taking only what he would not have wanted. Still he thinks that I am being selfish. Thousands of dollars worth of movies, books, games, etc. left for him, and he feels like I'm asking too much to have him pay off the credit card debt.
I'm leaving the house, which I picked out. I'm leaving the business to him that I helped to build. I'm leaving part of my soul and my dreams of peace and love.
He is taking away my deepest passions, and the feeling of acceptance, the feeling that I could do anything, ask anything without judgement and so was completely free to suggest any course, any action without being judged.
That is probably what I will miss most, that and the knowledge that I was once beautiful to him. Once desired and that I was the source of passion and lust. That was his greatest gift to me really.
That gone I don't know how to move forward. I feel like Ive lost my ballast and I'm a ship yawing to port and starboard on a choppy uneven sea of emotion. I'm lost without my anchor, and though he was so rough and rusted, covered with layers of the decay of depression and the encrustations of heavy ennui; I miss the feeling of safety that being anchored provided.
He thinks- I'm sure- that it was the financial stability I will miss, and yes being completely broke is frustrating... But it is being alone, being without a outlet for my love and emotion and passion- that is whats hard.
In time I am sure I could find another, but to tell the truth I'm not sure that I want to put myself in the position of depending on someone for my emotional wellbeing again.
But the question lingers in my heart:
If I could have carried his burden, If I could have lifted his depression and withstood his lashing out. If I could have kept the perfect house, been ready to perform at a moments notice, if I could have been all things too him would he have been happy?
If only I was stronger, and had a impenetrable emotional shield that could take a constant barrage of rage and not be dented. If only I had armor that could soak up scorn and ridicule and transmute it into energy for going on with the rigors of living in a home where you clearly are not good enough.
But I am not the Iron Man of emotion.
Maybe I should have stayed, though it might have ended up being a War of the Roses, most likely it would have just been another argument that would have blown over after a few months of me being glared at, ignored, having the living room stomped through as he went to slam his bedroom door. A million ways to display his rage, and show his derision.
If it wasn't for the child I probably would have endured.
Thank you Ariel.
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