"Miss Martha, you are so weird!" "I know . . . isn't it wonderful!?"

Archive for December, 2012

Among my many words of wisdom . . .

Never EVER marry a man that you wouldn’t be proud to have as a son.

 

 

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I

am so stressed that my body is locked and I am in AGONY.  Well . . . perspective . . . I’m not in pain at all compared to pre-back surgery.

 

However, I am in a lot of pain.  Physical manifestations of psychological rumblings.

 

 

 

Like distant thunder

and an old man’s joints know

and the cows lie down

and the leaves flip over

the wind is picking up . . .

And . . .

. . . I typed too soon last night.

 

He blew up because the torte didn’t come out right.  Yes.  You read that correctly.  Screaming, berating, name-calling.  Yeah.  Over food.  Sooooo rational.  (Can you smell the sarcasm?)

 

Then he yelled at me because the smell of my tea “makes me sick” so I took my tea and my computer, and went upstairs for the night.  I don’t mind living in my bedroom . . . I just don’t want to share it with him anymore.
AND . . . I don’t think that I should have to retreat in a house that I PAY FOR.

Things have been almost fine

lately.  Probably because I’ve finally decided that I’m done.

 

When someone who was very special to your wife dies, and your wife attempts to go to her funeral, only to find out afterwards HOW she died, and your wife comes home and, through tears, tells you what happens . . . YOU DON’T LAUGH.

 

It wouldn’t be funny if it were a stranger.

 

I no longer even want to care how he feels or what he thinks.  It doesn’t count anymore.  What little pity I had left for him evaporated with my tears.

 

With all the name calling and screaming and breaking my things and insulting my family and telling me that I’m worthless . . . that one laugh resonated so deep.  Too deep.

 

Finally.

If anyone ever wonders why . . .

. . . I’m done . . . here’s another reason . . .

 

K:  “So, I guess we’re not putting up a Christmas tree this year?”

M:  “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

K:  “Call my mom.”

M:  “Why?”

K:  “Because she’ll come over and help you, it would be done by now.”

 

Because, you know, I married his mother.

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