Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A Good Wife

I believed in my life.  Now I'm doubting it. Wondering if the past 22 years were even real.

I was a kick ass mom.  I’m STILL a kick ass mom.

I thought I was a good wife.  I WAS A GOOD WIFE. 

My dad told me never to put too much pressure on Garett for anything – being responsible for a family was pressure enough.  I listened to his advice.

I never asked Garett for anything… dinners, vacations, furniture, money for cloths, to get my hair done, or stuff for the house.  I saved as much money as I could throughout the school year and used that for spending money during the summer.  Money I spent on the boys.  Money I used to buy new school cloths. 

When the boys were little guys, I would send them to their room before Garett came home so he could come home to a quiet house, take off his work boots and unwind before the boys came rushing out to greet him.

I would massage his shoulders, back and feet.

I would massage his ego… I guess a little too much because he eventually believed more of himself than he should.

I truly thought he was a good man.  He coached Mason.  He was there for all his sporting events. 

I thought he was a good husband.  He always had a job and provided for his family.

I mistook his quiet personality for shy.

I didn’t see how deceitful he is.

He faked each day for over a year - telling me he loved me, kissing my forehead before he went to work, laughing with me, holding my hand, making love.  ALL A LIE.  He later confessed, during that whole time he was cheating on me.

I didn’t see the coward he is.

We had a get together one night and the next day he tells me he’s leaving me.  Two days later he left and never looked back.  He wouldn’t return texts, my calls went straight to voicemail and he would not return my messages.

He stopped providing for our family.  Stopped paying utilities, house payment, car. 

He moved his girlfriend and her 12 year old daughter from another state to ours and set them all up in a new home.

All this during the summer months when I had no money of my own coming in.

I’m embarrassed to say, I begged him to come back to me.  I promised to change anything and everything about myself that wasn’t pleasing to him.  I meant it to.  I was ready to do whatever he wanted.

My vows meant everything to me.  My family meant everything to me.  He meant everything to me.  He was my best friend.  My rock.

Chance caught me crying uncontrollably.  He yelled, “Why are you crying over him?”

“Because I miss him!” I yelled back.

Then catching me off guard, he said, “You miss the man you THOUGHT he was.  Not the shit he really is”.

I kept on crying.  Crying because it hit me that my son no longer respected his father.  Crying because this was the first time he cursed in front of me. Crying because I knew his words were true.

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