Saturday, October 6, 2012

up [spring]s the truth

I sat by myself, feeling so little on my parents large front porch, a cup of my Daddy's fresh brewed hot coffee in my hand. My son and daughter asleep in twin beds in my old bedroom. The morning air was crisp and fresh, but like any September day in Arizona, it would not last long. The heat of the day would soon arrive. I could see the mountains in the close distance and the roofs of the houses that sat below the hill my father built his house upon. I was back to my roots in this moment, surrounded by the people who loved me unconditionally. The people who knew not a thing about why I was here. Why I showed up at their doorstep at 3:30 on a Sunday morning, with a car loaded, two sleeping kids and a tear stained face. They simply took me in, no questions asked. I could see the concern and heartbrokeness for me washed over my Daddy's face. The love he has for his 5 daughters runs deeper than any love I have ever experienced. I sat alone now, I felt empty, not because I hadn't eaten a thing for the two days I had been here, but because I at this point felt as if I was no more than a shell of a girl I used to know. I had no directions as to which way to go. My husband had been trying to get me to come home. My phone never stayed quiet. It had become nothing more than a unit of torture. He wanted me to come home, he wanted to be with his wife and kids, he had an excuse for everything i threw at him. every encounter he had with her. Every joke and every pet name said between them he had a way around. I was stuck. I couldn't break up my family, torcher the kids over a situation that I could very well be making up in my head. I knew there had to be more, I knew there was a way I could catch him in something he would not have the ability to mask or hide. I didn't know what or how I was going to do it. But in the back of my head I could hear my Momma saying " if there is a will theres a way. I began to pray. Prayer was all I had. It was my only strength, The only thing i had going for me. I was 24 years old, no makeup could hide the lost girl I had become. I was useless, my worth had been spent everything i could do was just the same as anyone. there was nothing special about me nothing worth keeping around.  I may had been a pretty girl at one time I may had been in excellent shape at one time, I may had also been fun to be with, and spend time with but all that was gone now. All of who I had once been was gone, or so I was told, and been told many times over the past few years. No wonder he had found companionship with someone else, no wonder I wasn't the one he wanted anymore. No wonder he was emotionally trading me in. I had realized that it wasn't for me and wanted to keep trying, It wasn't for me he wanted to push through things. It was for the kids, it was for his own pride and image. He really did love someone else, He needed her. I didn't blame him, the pictures  I had seen of her the memories of who she had once been were beautiful, the stories I had heard him tell about her the way he lit up when he spoke her name... she must have been wonderful. I felt guilty for even blaming him, for even being upset about the situation. This girl had stolen my life and I didn't feel any right to try to take it back. I had to know what the extent of their relationship was I had no choice but to know the full story.
I went through the day taking care of the babies, cleaning my parents home, I was going on 3 days with almost no sleep at all but I had no choice I had to keep busy it was the only way I could hold myself together.  The situation at hand kept my mind focused on a way to figure out the truth. Suddenly my head began to spin, I knew the way. I knew their was someone who had insight into the situation as well. If only I could get this person to talk to me, to open up about their perception of what was happening. They're were many reasons for this individual not to. This person may not even know who I am, may not have ever even heard of me, and if so there were many reasons to hate not only my husband but myself. This was my only option I had to know, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and write that short message that with one click i knew would be delivered to this person I was putting all my hope in. " Hi I know you don't know me, but does my husband have anything to do with you and ****** breaking up?" that was it. 21 words that began the transformation of who I had known myself to be. A Facebook message and a couple of smart phones led the way to what changed EVERYTHING.
I honestly wasn't expecting a reply, much less a reply in as short of time as I had received one. I wasn't only surprised but I was impressed with this persons ability to so quickly gain my trust, to gain a common bond over something that had so much impact and effect on both our lives. a couple back and forth facebook messages and en exchange of phone numbers led to a phone call that changed it all.
Never in all my life had I been able to so easily open up with someone about the harsh events effecting me. never had anyone so easily not only heard what I was saying but listened and understood. what was only supposed to be a short change of facts and events became the beginning of a friendship and trust with someone I had never met. I was no longer alone in this situation, I was no longer the only one effected by the foolish doings of two people looking for something more, something neither of them realized they already had the best of. In this time I had been given not only one gift from God but several, I was given truth, I was given hope and I was given this man in my life, who I at the time I had no idea the very important person he would come to be in my life. I did not fully know to the extent he had so greatly touched my life. Although it had been awhile before i had spoke with him again, In those few phone calls and exchange of messages roots had begun, and bond had been created.
I now had the facts the ammunition I needed to set things straight with my husband. I hit him hard. Never allowing him to know where the information I came forward with had come from, he had no choice but to bow to his doings.... although he still was able to make himself appear to be the victim. That was an ability he had learned well with me. He knew well how to use it against me, he had years to learn that skill. I had half heatedly made my mind up that I was finished... but the other half knew, divorce was not an option. For the kids sake for the possible salvation of my husband and for my own comfort, I knew I had to still continue to try and make this work. A long talk on a tailgate in the middle of the night parked out somewhere in the desert. There I found myself, 7 months pregnant, stressed and exhausted . I could not fight anymore. I just wanted my family back. I gave into his plea. I heard his excuses his apologies. His promise to be done with her. I gave in. with hopes that maybe something would actually change, that he would actually pull his part. That I would actually end up being good enough in his eyes. As if I could make him call me the sweet little names... instead of the names like "frumpty dumpty" he had given to me, or he would tell me I looked gorgeous, beautiful or pretty...heck I would even be happy with any positive acknowledgement from him at all. I gave in to the "one more chance" plea. I gave in to the lies and excuses the manipulative bargains and the empty promises. he had trained me well. Trained me to always follow his lead. I had been warned, I had been foretold exactly how it would play out. The "VIP" had called this one. I had been talked back home, back to where my husband had wanted me,e where he needed me. He needed someone to give him the ability to gain his height back, by standing on their neck....on my neck. to fulfil his large ego and well.... to make him something to eat. That someone was me. Although I hadn't fully realized his placement for me, I had been warned, but I had not yet accepted the truth. I let down my walls, I packed up my things my children and what was left of my pride, my heart and .....what was left of me. I went home, expecting change... hoping for change.  I genuinely wanted this to work. I allowed my naive self to believe that it could. I tried, I gave it my all... One last time.

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