To my dear husband,
I don’t feel like I know you. You, the man that I have shared my hopes, dreams, fears and most intimate moments with. And I don’t feel that I know you anymore. Or trust you. I feel you are a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
For a minute I am going to allow myself to put that blame on you. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust a single thing you say to me. But I don’t question you. I quietly accept whatever truth you give me. I accept it and I bear it on my shoulders. I carry it around with me, keeping track of the many possible truths in my head. It is too much to bear these days… all of the excuses for staying out too late, working too hard, the restaurant taking too long on your carry out order, being called back to work, or helping out a needy friend… they’ve all piled up like a huge mountain of trash in the middle of a stinky, dirty landfill. The gulls of truth circling overheard, casting down my doubts and my suspicions over it all.
No, I don’t know you anymore. If I take parts and pieces of you and how you treat me, I can almost sew together a quilt of acceptability. I can almost make it work. I can almost talk myself into letting you fool me.
But then everything else you do and all of the poor, selfish decisions you’ve made come flooding back and it’s like my sad little quilt gets soaked in lighter fluid. And then it is just sitting there, waiting to become a flaming pile of trash.
What is wrong with you? Why are you so selfish? Why do you blame me for everything? Why do you hate everything?
When did you ever love me? And why? Why did you ever love me? Isn’t love supposed to last? Isn’t it supposed to triumph over the hard parts, the sad parts and the ugly parts? Maybe it’s not the love, but the loyalty and the sacrifice that you can’t muster. Maybe… maybe you truly love me as much as you are able. But that love doesn’t automatically come with the loyalty and faithfulness that I thought it would. I feel so naïve.
When you spoke with me and told me how unhappy you are, and then said that if you can’t be happy then you don’t want to be with me… you shattered what I thought love was. Now I realize what has been missing between us. There is only one of us that has sacrificed; one of us that has been loyal; one of us that has been faithful. And the rest was a big, stinky, dirty pile of trash destined for the landfill of lies. For this quick minute, I want to tell you to go. You are free. Just go. Leave me. I will incinerate the trash pile, build my new life and be better, do better. But we are tied by our child and I want them to have whatever love you are willing to give when you can give it. But one promise I will keep, my lovely husband. You are never to start your trash pile of lies with our child. Never. For the first time in your life, try to give the faithful, the honest, the pure, the true. Do not give them this baggage to carry around for all of their days.