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Monday, January 5, 2015

Or go down in flames...

11 years.

Yup. 11 years today I was a normal 19 year old who was hanging out with a boy who made her feel alive. Who made her laugh, who made her smile, who had a way with words that always made her feel special. He was perfect. Perfect for someone who's 19. We were watching MXC as we always did after dinner at his parents house and eating chocoate chocolate chip ice cream. He kept kissing me. "Your lips are really soft. I'm going to have to buy you a lifetime supply of ice cream." I never did get that lifetime supply. In fact, he's prevented from buying ice cream more than he has allowed me to buy ice cream. So we were sitting there, watching TV and I was blissfully unaware he was staring at me until he leaned over and said "what about the 5th?" we had this on going joke that we'd get together on a Friday the 13th and there was one in February. So I was a little surprised by his suggestion. I shook my head not really understanding and he laughed. And it occurred to me. "Oh shit, are you asking me out?" I blurted. He laughed again, "well I'm trying to." I felt pretty stupid so he took my head and he goes "babe, will you go out with me?" 

He was like that back then, even though he hated life like I did. We were both consumed in separate drama for separate reasons. Me with my abusive ex boyfriend and him with a girl who wished she was his ex girlfriend (which just makes it even crazier). And it was like, we were the lifeline for the other person. There were days that hit us so hard we would just sit in silence and cuddle, not saying a word. Not needing to. He was fun, he was understanding, he was sweet and considerate and he was a good person despite the hand that was dealt to him by life. He kept a smile on my face and my heart swelling with nothing but good feelings.

Fast forward to 11 years later. I know, trust me, I hate it too.

And suddenly one week or perhaps it was one night, I don't really remember at this point, everything changed. He was always irritable. Always angry. Always impatient and had nothing positive or nice to say to me. He wasn't encouraging, instead he would tell me you're not going to do shit anyway when I would tell him of my new plans. And that's how he was. I'm the type of person who loves being inspired. I love to create despite that my imagination thanks to OCD is limited, but I still try. And you would expect your husband to be your biggest fan. Always. Right? This was the guy who happily drove me to every single Walgreens in the BAY AREA in search of ONE NAIL POLISH. This is the guy who drove me happily to every book signing I could get to and was proud of me every time an author greeted me by name when I walked up. This was the guy who would read me books when I was too tired to read. This is the guy who would put on Alice in Wonderland or Serendipity when I was having a bad OCD night. 

This was the guy.

This isn't the guy.

I don't know who this guy is. I don't know what he wants from me. I don't know what he wants from life. I don't know what his favorite food is or his favorite color or what he likes to do for fun besides SnapChat other girls at 2AM and ignore me all day long. I don't know him. And honestly, at this point, I don't think I want to know him either.

New Years Eve was a pretty rough night for me. It's the second NYE I didn't get to spend with my mom and I even turned down going through with my yearly tradition. He was never into traditions anyway. So I was in bed by 1030 that night. He left to watch the fireworks even though he hates watching fireworks and he snapped all his chick friends Happy New Year and I got nothing. Luckily for me, a friend of mine had posted a stream of it happening on Main Street. Sure we could had both simply walked outside and watched it but you know what, it was kind of nice to watch it on Main Street with the music and the fireworks surrounding you (or rather the camera man, same deal) and I texted everyone I knew on the East Coast with Happy New Years and at 3am everyone on the West Coast. I didn't get a kiss, or a happy new year from him. 

It was like 2014 was a year of big scary painful changes and 2015 is a year of letting it all go.



Prior to midnight on NYE I was in the middle of a really hard hitting anxiety attack. I was alone in my room, in the dark and I was playing with this knife. I've had this knife close to me since I had to leave my job in August but I never took it out, until then. I ran it along my leg thinking of how nice it would feel to feel something other than the ball of painful chaos in the middle of my chest that won't go away. Thinking of something other than the fact that marriage has failed and the person who vowed to love, protect and take care of me has done none of those things in over a year. 

What I don't understand is if your wife has a mental problem why would you do things to trigger her with zero compassion? Why would you purposely hurt her? Why would you tell her to shut up and go to sleep when she's sobbing in bed next to you after another night you came home at 5am? You're suppose to be protecting her. Instead you abandon her. And besides the lies and the creeping around, that's something I can not forgive. I didn't cut myself. Instead I gave myself a rather big bruise on my leg, as you can see. I hit harder than I thought and I actually fell to the floor crying. At least it got my mind of the anxiety!

A few nights later this happened.



Some chick he works with who decided to voice her opinion about me despite what my original tweet had said. He seems to pick these girls who are under 23 and have this selfish bitchy vibe to them I'm seeing. Like every girl he's talked to, hung out with, constantly SnapChats with... they're all the same with different faces. The fact that she sent him a snapshot of my tweet laughing gave me the impression they had some sort of inside joke about me or that he was talking to her about how crazy I am. It's like that quote....

I'm not wondering what they said, I'm wondering why they told YOU what they said.

I thought I was prepared and over all types of betrayal by him at this point. I mean pretty much anything that could happen in that department has already happened + more.  And because she is pretty much a child, she kept on going with talking shit about me on her Twitter. And what did he do? Defend her, of course. Blame me, of course. Never mind that I was hurt or sad because obviously my emotions have no place in his life this passed year. He allows these chicks (3 total in the passed 12 months) to talk about me/talk to me like this. Without a hint of respect that you are aware that you're SnapChatting a married man at 2AM every two hours aren't you? If that isn't home wrecker action then I don't know what is. And I ended up anxious again because I felt betrayed again and I ended up punching myself in the jaw and slapping the shit out my face. I didn't bruise and I didn't make it sore, thank goodness. And of course when I tell him this he doesn't respond. I don't know what to say. So you choose to ignore me all together? I don't feel like a wife. I feel like a server. After literally beating myself up I suppose I went into shock or something because I became incredibly calm. And went to sleep.

11 years.

The Dissolution of Marriage papers have already been printed. My appointment for for an STD screening has already passed. I just need to focus on what is ahead. I have a year of pretty exciting things going on. It's just the limbo state that sucks so much.

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