In Sickness And In Health

I'm sick.

This is the first time I've been under the weather since the divorce.
It is so rare that I get a cold.  When I do, it's almost always stress induced and goes away in a day.
This bug is not going away.

It sucks.

There is nobody to rub my tummy, apply cool cloths to my head and baby me.

I so desperately need to be babied.  Doesn't everyone deserve that when they are sick?

I have placed a bowl of cold water on my bed to dunk my cloth in when it gets warm from the fever.
I have set an alarm to go off every four hours to remind me to take tylenol to keep the fever down.
I have bottled waters lined up on my nightstand to make sure I am keeping hydrated.

I am taking care of me.
But I wish someone else was.

He'd caress my hair while I was snuggled up to him and murmur pobrecito in my ear.
He use to make me miso soup from scratch and tell me I wasn't dying.
He'd say in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice..."It is not a tumor"

I feel like I am dying.

To get over someone, get under someone else

So it seems that several of my friends think that what I need is to get fucked.

They think I need to find a good looking random stranger and work out my problems on his body.

But what I can't get them to understand is that I already had that.

I've been fucked by a stranger for the past six years.  

It has left me empty, self conscious, vulnerable and questioning everything I once knew.  

That last thing I want now is another stranger entering me only to take another part of me away.

All Cried Out

I have cried everyday for 8 months.  Everywhere. At any given time
Some days more than others.  But everyday none the less.

Walking down the aisle at the grocery store is always a minefield.

He was my family.  He was my home. He was my safe place.

He took everything away.
And never looked back.  Never looked back.

He left me drifting.  Lost and alone on my sea of tears.

I've gone to therapy, talked with counselors, chatted with a priest and called my friends at all hours of the night.
I've done yoga, gone paddle boarding, power walked and eaten entire bags of peanut MnM's, multiple times.
I've meditated, gotten massages and have been hypnotized.
I've taken sleeping, anxiety and happy pills.
I've read books on divorce, lost love, self help, survival stories and grief.
I've watched hours of movies, TV shows and online mind mushing crap.
I've cleaned, reorganized, and purged the refrigerator, my closet and the bathroom.
I'm screamed into pillows, sang sad love songs and danced till I couldn't breathe.
I've blogged.

He's gone out on dates with multiple women.

Then today, I wanted to cry but no tears came.
I felt like I was going to cry... the emotion was there like a blanket all around me..but my eyes remained dry.

Was it possible I was all cried out?

A few hours later, cleaning off my desk, at the bottom of a stack of papers I had set aside a year ago, I came across a random photo of him.

And.... then they reappeared.
Hello old friends.
I thought you too had abandoned me.

Toe Cramp

I got a toe cramp today in the home depot parking lot.

It took me back to the only other time I've had one.
I'd just pulled up to our house when it happened.  I'd never felt that kind of pain in my toe and since it came on so quickly I got a bit scared.  It felt like my toe was bending up towards me, clearly the opposite direction  it was suppose to be, all on it's own and I couldn't stop it.

Luckily you were home, so I called you from the car and asked you to help me as I couldn't walk on it.

You came out and carried me into the office and laid me gently on the broken leather couch that you had fallen in love with from the clearance section of the furniture store.

I was a little panicked that I had somehow broken my toe.
You tried to assure me that was not the case.
I still wasn't sure.

You gingerly tried to massage it, but the pain was so intense.  Against my protests you carefully kneaded, stretched, prodded and rubbed it.

So patiently you babied my toe and me until both of us were back to normal.
Then you kissed my toe and me.  My night in shining armor.

We started to make jokes and laugh about the whole thing and how I would've been stuck in the car if you hadn't picked up the phone. We created all kinds of humorous scenarios.
We laid there on that couch, side by side, for a long time giggling.

But this time I can't call you.
This time I have to take care of it on my own.

Just like everything else.

Of course I can do it on my own.  I just liked it better when you did it for me.

I did laugh, through the tears, at the thought of me kissing my own foot.  That's progress, right?

God I miss you.

A Good Wife

I loved being a wife.

Loved it.

I loved cooking, grocery shopping, doing laundry and keeping a clean house.
O.k.  I did NOT like dusting.

Taking care of someone, to me, is like taking care of yourself.
It made me so happy.

I was honest, loyal, caring and supportive.
I made sure that you kept your bank account and I kept mine with a joint one for bills.
I didn't want us arguing about money.  And we never did.

I prided myself for never being out of anything. From toilet paper to milk in the fridge, we were always well stocked. Your clothes were always clean and put away.  Hung the way you liked.

If you lost something I knew exactly where to find it.

I didn't make you go to baby showers with me.  I treated you like a man. I encouraged you to go golfing and fishing with your friends.  Sometimes I would set up the play dates myself for you.

When people would meet me for the first time they would say "THAT'S your wife?"
Frumpy, boring and plain were never used to describe me.

I was spontaneous, adventurous and funny.
I always tried to keep our marriage fresh and interesting.

I packed your favorite snacks when we went to the movies.
I packed your lunches for work. Always with a sweet treat tucked inside.

I gave the best hugs.

Was I perfect?  No.  Is anybody?
Would it have mattered if I was?

I was a good wife.
I am not a wife anymore.

Love Don't Live Here Anymore

Two weeks and one day after the divorce he found someone online and started dating.
Two weeks and one day?
He said he was lonely.
I couldn't breathe.

Everything started to spiral out of control again.

Then the truth came out.

It wasn't work that you hated.
It was me.
You had been mad at me for 6 out of the 7 years we were married.

You gave your reasons for being so enraged with me.  I just sat there with my mouth open.
What do you mean that 6 out of 7 years you harbored ill feelings towards me?
Starting out small and letting it fester to the point that anger dominated all emotions you had for me.
But never telling me.  Letting me believe it was all work related.

You knew 6 years ago that you wanted out?

And yet you stayed, waiting for what?
Laying next to me each night holding my hand.
Watching me spin in circles trying to make you happy.  So we could be happy.
Sacrificing my own happiness for yours.
Believing you when you said it wasn't me.

I had no reason to doubt you.  And even when I questioned it you assured me I was incorrect.

And now you tell me you single-handedly sabotaged our relationship?
That you purposely didn't tell me what was going on because you didn't want me to fix it?
Is that why you didn't want to try, because you knew all along you were going to divorce me?

So all of it was a lie?
How am I suppose to swallow that?
You have already taken away so much from me and now you've taken my memories too?

It is so hard to believe that love don't live here anymore...
and apparently hasn't for a very long time.