november 8

November 8, 2009 - Sunday 

the other side Current mood:  awake i literally woke up this morning and there he was. right in my face. now i don’t much care for waking up to someone staring at me, certainly not accompanied by confrontational banter. but god damn, that’s precisely what i got this beautiful sunday morning. “you are running away from me, from this problem” “you just aren’t trying hard enough, not trying as hard as i am” “why are you shutting me out” “do you even love me anymore” “you are giving up everything” “do you realize how much you are hurting everyone around you” “i’m the only person who has ever loved you unconditionally” “are you going to go back to work?” “we can’t afford to live in two places” “didn’t we make these vows to each other” “don’t you think the best thing to do is continue to try” “don’t you want what’s best for our kids” shit, this is the fan. fan, this is the shit. let the slinging begin. that’s a whole bunch to try and answer before my first cup of piping hot columbian. it sounds terrible unapologetic and cold but i’m done. i was done long ago. i don’t feel like defending my position or my feelings. i feel like i’m entitled to the way i feel. might make me a heartless bitch but i'm finished. in fact, i was done before we got married, i just didn’t know it. on the other hand, he’s hanging on by a thread. looking for just a little reassurance, a little glimmer, an explanation. i’m ready to walk the other way and move forward. but this confrontation this morning, it got me thinking. when exactly did that happened for me? when was i “done”? i was surprised by what i found when i looked at our history. what i’ve come to realize is that there was a turning point. a fork in the road so to speak. i didn’t see it then but it’s crystal clear now. i believe it was the day i found out i was pregnant for the first time. we had been dating a little over a year and living together for a few months. the response from him was one that i will never ever forget. he came home from work, i sat him down and the tears came easily. i told him I was pregnant and scared. that I didn’t know how it could have happened given the contraception but i was. he replied with “we can’t have a baby right now. we aren’t even married. you’ll have to have an abortion. we'll make the appointment for you.” he hugged me, told me he loved me but never asked me what I wanted. did i want a baby at the time? hell no, i wasn’t ready. i was 25 but nowhere near ready to have a family. do i regret the decision now? no, resoundingly, no. it was the right thing to do. but did I ever feel like I had a choice? no, i wasn’t given that option. that day something in me died. it died along with that embryo a few weeks later. my sense of self, my purpose, my voice. i couldn’t even whisper that day. i was gone. my spirit crushed. it was then that i realized the harsh reality of this man. that in order to have a life with him, i would have to sacrifice my voice. it was his way or no way. i was no longer fine just the way i was. i had to be something different. i changed. i chose to change. and that is where the wall began to build. steadily over time, it has grown into a monster. a wall made of the strongest materials. impervious. un-scalable. indestructible. no amount of strength or determination can tear it down. there is nothing he can do. and it's sad really. terribly tragic. to think that i built that wall with my own hands. willing to do it. that i made it not to keep him out but to keep myself out. and now i'm ready to hear my own voice again. to see myself. to let myself in. but it have to say goodbye to him first. i'm ready to reclaim what's left on the other side of that wall.