Thursday, December 31, 2015

A Letter to My Husband

I leave for Boston in 2 days. So the explosion will have to wait. But its coming. Its coming and it will be huge.

I am beginning to believe that to get past everything, I have to lay everything out. I have to say everything I think and feel.

I don't believe a word you say. I'm not sure I ever did. What I hear is stories. And they aren't real. There is no proof of them. The older I have gotten the more I believe in proof. In the cold hard facts. I see none of these.

What I do see is the man I married. A man who had a tortuous childhood. And for that I am truly sorry.

I love you. I do. But I can't keep living with the stories. I just want the truth.

When our 8 year old daughter asks me "so if Daddy is a doctor then why can't he help me?" ~ I don't know how to respond. All I could say is "Daddy isn't a doctor." Her response "Well he gave up, so he gave up on me.". I defended you. I told her "No no Daddy did not give up on you, he had no idea he would have a daughter like you back then.".

Aria asked me yesterday while at the grocery store "How come I see Grandpa holding Grandma's hand but Daddy never holds yours?". I didn't even answer.

You say that it goes both ways. And it does. But what you don't understand is my need for you to be the man. For you to lead. I'm tired. I am really really tired. And I know you are too.

You called me a lovesick bitch for doing what my boss at work asks. For a mistake in the schedule that I had made. As if I could love a misogynistic pig like him.

I told you I don't believe your past. And I don't. And I don't care what your past was.

What I want is you. I don't give a care about what happened before there was us.

If she doesn't make it, both of us know this marriage won't survive. And you know as well as I do what that crow in the backyard yesterday meant. It may not be her ending, but it was the sign of a possible ending ~ of a death of something should we allow it to happen.

There can't be any more excuses of "We never have the time" or "I'm so tired".

I need you to love me. In more than just words. Like a man loves a woman. And I know you have never had an example of that, and I am so so so sorry for that. But I know you know what to do.

The girls are gonna be loud. They will scream. They will get annoying. But we can't let it ruin everything. We have let it ruin us. Now I don't know what we are to each other anymore. All I know is we are not lovers, or confidants anymore. We are friends yes, friends with a mutual interest in our family. But there is no interest in each other anymore. It's why I seek out others to connect with. There's a wall between us.

I'm so sorry. But I want you to know I love you. And I love you in the way a woman loves a man. I want to feel the way I did when you moved down here from Minnesota and I had rug burns on my legs. I want us to be us again. To laugh. For you to smile like I said you used to smile like David Tennant did as the Doctor. (Why do you think he is my favorite? Because he looks like you! Why do I love Loki? Because he is tall, thin and mischievous like you!)

I want our children to see affection and love from and between their parents. I want them to tell me about things you did with them. Places you took them while Mommy was at work.

I know you will be mad I put this in the public realm. But I think ours is a cautionary tale. It needs to be heard, to be read.

I don't want others to fall prey to this. To lose sight of one another because of the addition of a medically complex child. I gave my everything to her, while you shut down and retreated. Its neither of our faults.

Come with me ok? I want you to come with me. Come with me. Be that adventurer I knew you as. Hear the joy in the annoying noises our children make. Be my lover, my confidant again.

Come with me.

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