I feel so alone, so scared that I can’t do this without him.  I feel like no one can hear me, no one can see me.  I feel trapped and stranded and so scared.  I don’t want this life.  I keep telling myself that no one died.  My kids are healthy and safe.  We all deserve happiness.  But it doesn’t help, nothing helps.  The physical pain, mostly in my face when I cry- it is just too much.  Everything is too much.

Putting my baby to sleep just now, for a moment he made an expression that looked like his old newborn face.  I just flashed back to his newborn days.  When I was tender and amazing and inspiring.  And how my husband didn’t see any of it.  Not one bit.  I have been so alone for so long.

I should feel liberated to be free from him pulling me down.  For being a part of a relationship that was only one sided.  I think back to magical times, or proud moments, and I remember what those were like, how he didn’t see me, didn’t care, didn’t hear me.  Could barely turn away from the TV to tell me he was proud of me.  He never once told me he was proud of me or impressed by me.  All I did was work harder and harder and harder to do more more more.  And yet it was never enough to be noticed.  I did amazing things in the past ten years.  Fucking amazing things.  AMAZING things.  With  no real recognition.  Maybe once a year a “you succeed at everything you try” but never being amazed by me.

I think of how he couldn’t hold me close.  When I’d hug him in the kitchen he couldn’t stay with me.  He always pulled away, started talking, looking off to the side.  I wasn’t even there with him, he was never there with me.

I know that the kids can’t grow up into healthy men like that, having that in front of them.

But then I think of how he turned it on the past few months.  Why couldn’t I just be happy enough with that?  Wasn’t that enough?

I do not know if all of this pain is worth it.  I can’t see through the pain.  There is no light.  There is no “time to seek joy and fulfillment” because I am fulfilled by HIM.  I want him.  I don’t want to be alone from friday night until Sunday night.  What will I do on the weekends?

Laundry, hot baths, read, clean, work on an attempt at getting business, sleep in.  Prepare meals for the week, do whatever I want on my computer, box, work out, run outside, go to the store without kids, go to visit my BFF road trip alone for the weekend.  Visit other single party friend in Chicago for weekend and live it up with her guilt free. Great.  What else- I could cry whenever I want.  Lie on the floor and sob loudly.  Sob in the shower.  Look at photo albums and sob.  Which would feel great, so fucking depressing but great.  All sound really great.  But this house, being here.  Sitting on this couch when my kids are with their father far away.  For 3 days?  I can’t bear it.  I just do not know if this is the right thing.

Can’t I forgive him?

Can’t I let go of my anger and choose to be with him?

Why can’t I?  I love him.  I hope to be with him, so why don’t I just be with him?

My sweet baby will never recall a time when the six of us were a family together.  It kills me.  He is a good man, why can’t that be enough.  Maybe it is enough.