It turns out the positive effects of my tearful purge didn’t last as long as I’d hoped. Tears are threatening again and I’m desperate to talk to anyone who will listen just so I can clear my head of all the thoughts I can’t shut the fuck up.
But trying to actually say the words… out loud… is like trying to force myself to vomit. Difficult, unpleasant and I don’t fucking want to.
I desperately want to see my husband. But not to talk. I just want to look at him… and tell him I need a fucking hug.
And then I’d like to knock him the fuck out for putting me through this.
Walking through the hallway a few minutes ago, I passed a mutual acquaintance of ours. Unfortunately, there are several of these. The Husband and I have worked for the same company for many years and know too many of the same people. Having to respond to the polite inquiry of how he’s doing was like a paper cut. Except, in this case, it was like a million fucking paper cuts.
At first, nothing. Totally normal. “Good,” I said, because what was I going to say? I have no idea, but I hope he’s as fucking miserable as I am? I’m not positive, but I don’t think that would’ve gone over too well.
So, I smiled and I said the right thing and to the outside world everything appears as it should. Then the sting came. As I walked away, all I could think was that I have no idea how he’s doing. I haven’t talked to my husband in four days. By now he may have already made the decision that I’m not what he wants and he’s trying to think of a way to let me down easy. I don’t know. And that’s the worst fucking thing ever. Not knowing.
Last night, in the middle of a prayer (yes, I pray), in the middle of telling God it was in his hands and I trust his decision, whatever that might be… I began to beg. I didn’t want to. Begging God for anything always gets my hopes up because I start to think he might actually give me what I want. But I couldn’t stop myself. There. I said it.
As I approach this weekend and the end of his “week to figure things out,” I know I’m not prepared for either decision. I’ll be shocked if he says he wants to stay and I’ll be devastated if he says he doesn’t.
But at least I’ll finally know.