How was it? (journal excerpt)

Did I like it or did I fight you on that too?

I’ll never know.

It’s my own damn fault right?

Why keep being so excessive?

Set limits!

Pain from the injury to the inside of my lip where my teeth cut deep into my flesh is a constant reminder of my indulgences.

Is it his fault at all?

He was drunk too.

I’ll never know. I can’t remember shit.

I know, however, that I am responsible for me

Nobody else will protect me as best as I can protect myself and I need to start there

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#917 “I miss you” 3/17/17

The spell wore off 

romance can’t compete with cramps

They scrutinize my insides wringing me dry

Waking from my daze the wonderment is prevalent 

Questions reiterate 

Again, feelings of betrayal creep back in 

Blasting beats to overcome the thumps from within 

My heart, my veins, my eyes swell and heave 

I bury the emotions to save face

Keep adding the checks next to my lists 

This waiting by for you won’t last 

I can’t continue to be so obtuse

Fear wearing off to face change and explain

The phoney naïveté my life has been 

truth be revealed

confrontation, depending on who it is may not be as easy as it seems

I can confront friends about bad relationships and call them out on their shit

I can phrase challenges and discrepancies to my clients

I can’t confront my husband about the mysterious “I miss you” text from an unsaved number he got though

Now it’s affecting everything

Every time he looks at  me I wonder if he’s thinking of more lies

Every time he shows me affection I wonder if he’s just trying to “throw me off”

I doubt every story he tells and every intention he’s had for the past forty eight hours

since I saw the words ” I miss you” light up on the fuckin I-watch I bought him

the unsaved NY 917 number brings back the vision of the picture of the woman in her underwear that was saved on the hard drive among our children’s Holiday band concerts

I am spiraling down

to a dark place again

Isolating in irritation and contemplation

uncalled for bad moods and shitty attitude’s are spewing out of me

can’t talk to anyone because he’s a prince in all their eyes and I can never dethrone him

I have too much respect for him

but does he respect me?

Is he lying to me? Is he cheating? Would he ever tell me the truth if he was?

 

 

Hindsight

The fifteen year old pregnant girl could not look into the future to see 

A good marriage 

A beautiful home 

Smart and able children 

All she could think about was how she was going to finish high school and go to college?

She wondered if what she had with her boyfriend was love or obligation?

She imagined a life in the hustle of NYC 

She couldn’t see the future 

She saw the looks, read the statistics, and disappointed her loved ones back then. 

I want to travel back in time to tell her she’s on the right path 

To encourage her on those dark days 

To let her know in twenty years, it’s all okay

We are happy, healthy, and love one another with the utmost loyalty, fortitude, & humility 

singularduality                    (a name acrostic)

Somehow I always manage to cycle around to these doubts and feelings

In a marriage there always seems to be

Needs and desires that go unmet

Guessing at the right way to convey

Unlikely to find the right setting or time

Longing in the process to just blurt out the words

Achingly I distance myself, going against the urge

Re-evaluating how I love, perhaps I give too much

Deeming that I deserve more protection, trust, and love

Unmet, is the sensation left again

Another year to weigh in, the writings tell the truth

Love isn’t always enough

Importance of loyalty is the message coming through

Thoughtfully I plan the next steps to take, as I consider my life and how it’s all about

You

languages

love languages

I must remember to recognize when he is not speaking mine to me

He’s speaking his to me

He checks over the engine and vacuums the interior

I would prefer a back rub or a kiss

I am grateful, however, for the love he gives

Cause it’s mine and intended for me

from a thinker, not a feeler

to an extrovert from an introvert

which is why its hard for him to do

 

 

That was today? 

The kind of day that’s split and off kilter 

My morning broken down at home, where all I did was work.

To school I go to work. 

The homicidal and suicidal words spoken by the youth I hear impresses upon me in an eternal way. 

Anger, pain, anxiousness, and sadness are handed to me in pieces as I attempt to help the babies put their puzzles back together

There’s a sick kid I must lay my own eyes, hands, and voice upon at home.

I need emotional support that I feel none of them are strong enough to give. 

Off I go to be a master. 

I cry in the car when suddenly, there’s a Jeep Wrangler blazing in flames on the side of the road. 

The universe placed me in Group Counseling class this night and I shared that there was no material thing I’d run back in the burning house for. 

And upon my return home, my two answered the same. 

I’m doing okay

A depressed person would have skipped rehearsal tonight.

Another instinct may have been the feel of a blade

I’m up, I’m out…despite the heaviness in my heart.

I still take all his bad decisions personally.

His choices to lie and hurt my mother make me feel like I’m not important enough to consider in his life choices

I don’t feel considered, let alone loved

What about the years he’s supposed to make up for?

Hes supposed to strive for happiness and unity to make up for all that time he did

The best thing he’s given me is the ability to relate to the at risk youth I work with day in and day out.

Thanks?

No.

Just let her be. Let her go. You’re killing her. Slowly and painfully daily. Let me have the rest of the time I have with her in peace