It boggles my mind that we are at this place again. Didn’t we do this just last March? I moved out. Took my cat. I was serious and ready to move on from this pain and struggle. It was only a matter of days before you called me and said you missed me and wanted me back. You made all these statements about how you want to grow. Read those relationship books. How counseling was still an option. I believed you with all my heart.
We worked and continued building a life together. In June, you surprised me by getting down on one knee and saying those incredibly wonderful things. Do you remember what you said? You do want to spend the rest of your life with me. You do want me to be the mother of your children. It was the happiest day of my life. The zenith that I went to at that moment is now mirrored in the nadir at which I find myself now. I really wouldn’t have thought that I could feel worse than I have in the past after arguments we’ve had. I was wrong.
I am beyond hurt. Beyond angry. Beyond disappointed at the lack of faith that you have. In me. In us. And not least of all, in yourself. You take me for granted so easily. You take for granted the life that we had and were working towards, together. After you asked me to marry you, you now take it all back. Nothing could hurt more. I can’t make any sense of it and the pain takes over in a way that makes it hard to function. Right now, being paralyzed is better than the alternative of conscious thought.
If I start thinking, then I think about how just last week we were laughing in bed, you spooning me when we were doing our impressions of Frankenstein’s monster singing putting on the ritz. A hearty laugh. Our bodies shook. Your embrace was warm and loving. I think about our house that we are fixing up, the kitchen with the slow cooker cooking soup and chicken. A truly domestic scene worthy of the pages of Good Housekeeping. I think about our cats and the cute little kitten that you like to talk to and tell her how Mommy did such a good job choosing her. I think about a morning two days ago when you grasped my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze before getting out of bed. It was that evening you unloaded all your fears and insecurities on me under the guise of hateful honesty.
