Grief

It’s been 365 days since I stood my ground.  One whole year since I said I didn’t want to be married to you.  I said I don’t want to do this anymore.  I don’t want to pretend I’m happy when I’m not.  We were both miserable.  I told you I didn’t want anything from you, just my freedom.  I don’t care about the properties or the millions of dollars that had come and gone throughout our marriage. I don’t care about the bankruptcy.  I just want out.  I don’t care what it takes.  I don’t want to fight.  I just don’t want to do this anymore.

You said, what will people say?  I said who cares! They aren’t the ones living our lives!  I said we could show them how to consciously choose to uncouple.  We could show them that it’s possible to still be friends and support one another and our kids in a different way.  

But you couldn’t do that.  You couldn’t see another way around your ego.  You couldn’t imagine facing the fact that I don’t want you anymore.  What questions would that raise in people’s minds?  What would they think about you?  It was better for you, in your mind, to say that I had had a mental breakdown, that I’m crazy and sick and I don’t know what I’m doing.  You are a victim.  That’s how you rewrote the script.

You care more about your ego.  You care more about what people who don’t respect you in the first place think about you.  What about me?  Your wife?  The one who slept next to you for 21 years?  Doesn’t it matter what I think about you?  

What about all those years I loved you?  What about all the love I gave you?  What about how much I supported you and encouraged and stood by you?  What about our life together?  What about the family we built and all we put into it?  What about what our daughters think?  Do you really care more about what strangers think than your own children?  What kind of man do you want your daughters to marry?  Would you be happy if they married someone who treated them like you are treating me?  How would you feel if our oldest daughter, who is now turning 21, the age when I met you, brought home a 40 year old man just like you?  Would you like that for her?  Would you have any advice for her?  Would you protect her?  If she told you he forced sex onto her against her will, against her religion, would you stand up for her and protect her?  Will you see yourself in the situation and have a different perspective?  Because you seem to think there is nothing wrong with the fact that that is what you did to me.  I expect that based on the way you handled the situation with the JW organization and S and the boys, you wouldn’t feel compelled to do anything.  You would just let your daughter be a victim, and you would tell her to be quiet.  Just like you did me, only to me, your wife, you said, keep your mouth shut, or else…

Or else what?

Your face makes me sick.  Just looking at you now makes my heart feel like throwing up.  After everything I gave you.  My youth, my potential, my body.  I loved you but you didn’t receive it.  I supported you but it wasn’t enough.  You didn’t even know how to be intimate with me.  It wasn’t important to you.  How many times did I wake up to the bed shaking and you’re jerking off.  How many times did I wake up at 2am to you putting your penis in me as I slept.  Do you know that that is non consensual?  Do you know that that is rape, even if it is your wife?  Thinking about this, no matter what facts you may point to about how you had to deal with my moods and emotions and whatever, makes me realize that our whole marriage was about you taking.  You just took and raped the whole family while making it seem like we were such a burden for you to carry.  How many times did I have to steal from you to feed our family?  How many times did I ask you for grocery money and you would whine and cry and cough up $100 and tell me to make it last 2 weeks? For a family of four?  Including you!  When I would make meals, you would eat all the meat.  The girls hardly got any.. yet you scarfed down two plates.  Meanwhile I find your receipts for fast food and the ABC store.  At least someone was eating.

For 20 years we did this.  We felt trapped and so we made it ok.  But it wasn’t ok and we knew it.  Now when I see your smug face and that smirk, like you’re hiding something and you think you have the upper hand, it turns my stomach.  It turns my stomach because I refused to face it sooner.  I preferred to live in denial rather than being strong enough to love myself.

You will never see the error of your ways.  Whether I somehow find the money to “go after” you as you say and ask for what I deserve according to the law or not, you will see yourself as the victim and refuse to learn the lesson.  Not until you are on your death bed will you understand what you have done.

I grieve because I now see what the relationship with you did to me.  I see that I was married to a sad little confused boy who has no idea what he is doing.  You live in a world of make believe.  I grieve because my girls are there, watching you spin your wheels, listening to you complain and blame.  I grieve because they no longer have access to the abundance of love I have always given them.  I grieve because I can only send them love from afar and when I do that, I feel their pain and suffering.  I grieve for the injustice of it all.

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