past on the patio part 2
8:57 p.m. - 2003-09-22
June 6, 1999
It is so easy for other people to tell you how to live your life. They are so full of advice for you. Most of the time; however, they do speak from experience.
You know what is even easier? Letting someone else tell you how to live your life. If you give them the steering wheel, then you don't have to drive. If you let someone tell you what to do, then you don't have too many decisions to make.
When I left my father's house to live with my first husband, I had no experience of being on my own. It was easy to just let my husband make the decisions. Once he reasoned with me, "Well, someone has got to have the final say if no agreement can be reached." Wow! Does that statement not speak volumes about the kind of marriage I had?
It may have been 1991, but not in my marriage. There was no compromise, no give and take. When dinner was finished, so was he. He didn't even push his chair in most of the time.
It's amazing how you can emotionally withdraw from a marriage so gradually that the other person doesn't even know it. I began to hate everything about him.
One morning in about the sixth year of our marriage, we got into a horrible argument. Harsh words were exchanged. My husband ended the argument by spitting in my face. It was the ultimate insult. Have you ever had this happen to you? If yes, then you know how humiliated I was...how I even contemplated ending my life.
For two days, I did not even get out of bed. Where was my husband, you ask? Gone to the lake for the weekend...out having fun.
I laid in bed for two days. I don't remember eating. I must have gotten up to do various things. I just don't remember.
On the third day of feeling sorry for myself, I had a revelation: Who needs him? I could care less if he lives or dies. I had myself. I had my family. I would rather be alone than be with him. He didn't even deserve me.
It was the beginning of a very long and ugly divorce, and he ended up doing much worse to me.
One thing is for certain. I never once looked back. I never waivered in my decision. I never gave a damn about him again. I had no desire to talk to him, see him or hear about him. Wherever he is, I hope he is far away from me.