He visits and I fall asleep in my spot.
Curled up in the soft, scratchy nape of his neck.
Tucked under his arm with my hand on his stomach.
Lie me there for a moment and suddenly I’m more tired than I’ve ever been.
I fall asleep without realizing it.
Until his chuckle at my heavy breath wakes me.
I miss my spot.
I want it back, every night.
I want us back sometimes.
I forget about all of the bad days, or they don’t seem so bad.
Or maybe just more justified than they did before.
I miss his laughter, usually at his own jokes.
I miss him calling me from work, just because.
I miss the habitual, more than genuine, ‘I love you’ exchanged at every departure.
I miss.
Then I talk to him.
I remember how frustrating his perpetual smirk was.
That dismissive tone of voice he adopts.
How everything is always, always my fault.
Or at least that I’m guilty of everything he is.
So I have no right to complain.
How he pulls out of every argument early, under the guise of preventing escalation.
Even though he started it.
He doesn’t want the other side presented.
My side.
It’s futile to persist.
I remember everything I hate about us.
How I was swallowed whole in us.
How nothing I did was important to him.
Nothing I said was relevant.
Nothing could satisfy him, or me.
My days were full then, too, of an eager longing for something different.
Something better.
I guess that’s just me.
Always dissatisfied.
I miss my spot.
I want it back, every night.
But I remember more of those old every nights.
How just as I had fallen into the second stage of sleep his arm would be yanked from under my cheek.
He’d roll over, showing me his freckled back.
Muttering something about a bad shoulder.
Or a sleeping arm.
I’d be cold and alone, my body trying to make up for the warmth he’d provided.
That he snatched away so suddenly.
I think about how I sleep alone now.
I depend on nothing but myself and my blankets for heat.
There are no sudden jolts or surprises.
I think it’s better that way; safer at least.
The less dependent on him, the better.
Even if it’s just for heat, or a pillow, at night.
I’m working on the rest of it.
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November 15, 2008 at 5:32 pm
Aww Maria.
I feel this too. You have no idea.
Love you.
You'll get through it, too. You will.
xoxoxo
When the right, better spot comes, you'll never remember this. Trust me.
The paradox of love and loss . . . you captured it. Wanting it back, but not wanting it at all. Knowing that if you gain IT, you lose YOU. Feeling lonely, but knowing that not feeling lonely might mean you'll feel alone . . . all over again.
“How I was swallowed hole in us . . . ”
Maybe right now, you are right where you should be. You are doing what is the very best for you . . . no matter what. And that takes a strength that not many have. Or ever will . . .
You have to go through all types of “spots” to get to the new ones. And the old spots, while sometimes wonderful, really hold no candle to the new spots we can't yet see or feel.
xx
Nice, if unfinished, piece there Ma'am. Sigh…
time heals all wounds and wounds all heels.
beautifully written.
hugs, hon.
applause for the writing and hugs for the absence
Very touching post. Artfully written.
Maybe someday you'll find someone to lean on for warmth with few jolts and surprises, although, I think a few of those are worth it for the right person.
once in a blue moon I miss my spot. but it's so not worth it to me to go back there. shit, I can't even go back to that state until I have a court order in hand. lolz….
I hope you stay warm. (Nice to meet you.)
erin
I remember feeling like that. Always having to remind yourself of how things REALLY were, not just the good parts.
I remember, back in the beginning of our separation, wishing that their dad was there to run the bath, like he sometimes did. Then I remembered all the cajoling and nagging I had to do to even get him to do that, and how he'd always have to do something else, and I'd end up doing it myself. I realized at that moment that it's better to just be alone than keep waiting for him to show up.
November 15, 2008 at 11:59 pm
I hate the fact that I'm about to say that I understand exactly what you're saying. Mostly, because it denigrates what you two had – compares it to what I did. Also, though, I hate it because it I hate it that you hurt.
Those words & feelings are the exact reason why I can't “just leave”. No matter how hard I cry, how awful he is or treats me, no matter how much better I deserve or how many times others scream it at me – I can't “just leave”. I've played it all out in my head,every scenario, every word, and they all end the same – exactly the feelings you describe. I know all my friends are fed up with hearing it, so I just quit talking. I know what I should do, and could do. I know I deserve better and the children deserve a happier, less “tense” environment at times not to mention what they're learning about marriage. If it were violent, there would be no question, and sometimes I'm pissed it's not a clear black & white matter. But I love him, throughout all the blurriness, and couldn't imagine life withOUT him, especially not having “my spot”.
I do admire you for doing the “right” thing and trying to make the best for yourself & the girls, more than you'll ever know! Maybe one day I'll be that strong.
sniff. I'll snuggle with you.
I remember my mom going through this same thing when my parents divorced finally. I think for her it was just the familiarity and not that she was missing HIM so much. Once she got more comfortable being apart from him, and more her own person, that feeling lessened and finally went away. It will for you too.
You can borrow my spot if you want. I'd be happy to hold you, sweetie.
i'm gonna say the same thing as ZoeyJane. i hate that i know this feeling, this being torn. i hate that you also know this as well. this post really got me today. it was beautifully written.
“My days were full then, too, of an eager longing for something different.
Something better.
I guess that’s just me.
Always dissatisfied.”
he often said i'd never be happy. he threw it on me like a curse.
Beautifully written. But ouch.
Wow. That was amazing.
I've been there, and it's so painful. You will find it again. Stay strong.
Dude, that is the worst. The rest of it is dealable, because your brain gets it, but the sleeping brain, not so much.
Stupid heart. Sometimes it just wants what we know we don't need.
Hugs babe. Big squeezy ones.
Very well written, good luck to you.
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