How am I supposed to pretend I didn’t see those messages? How am I supposed to pretend it’s alright to sit down with him and eat a meal, when he literally makes me want to puke? How am I supposed to be OK with the fact that he is calling his girlfriend so much that he is sucking up our shared minutes and cost us $70 in overages last month? How am I supposed to be alright with him being near me?
How am I supposed to sit there and take him railing at me about the overages without letting him know that I still have access to the account?
I shouldn’t keep looking for stuff, but I do. I went to our wireless account and downloaded all of the phone usage and messaging data from the last two bills. There was one call there to her for 4.5 hours. What in the hell could they talk about for that long? And the messages flying back and forth. Thousands of messages. Hundreds of picture messages (which leads me to believe that they are sexting).
How am I supposed to pretend I don’t know this stuff? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I walk through the day like a damn zombie. I keep seeing those damn messages and pictures in my head. I toss and turn all night. The dreams are terrific. (sarcasm there, for those who don’t recognize it) I’m supposed to go to a smoking cessation class next month where they will give me Chantix. If you’ve ever taken the med, you know it gives the most bizarre dreams. I’m not looking forward to those.
I want to ask his Chief to send him away from me. Six months to a year. Those time lines mean he can go to Iraq or Afghanistan. My friend asked, “If he dies or is injured, could you live with it? Would you be guilty?” I thought about it for a moment, because I wanted to check with myself. The honest answer? No, I wouldn’t feel guilty. I have no feelings left for that man but hurt and hatred.
That’s right. Hatred. I hate what he is doing to our family, I hate what he is doing to me, I hate how he makes me feel. I hate him. It’s visceral and it comes from my gut, so I know it’s real.
I die a little every day knowing that they are talking so much. You know what really ticks me off, though? I sat there and commiserated with the man about how it wasn’t fair what they were doing to him at work. But, hark, what do those phone bills say? Hours spent talking to her at work. AT WORK! WTF man? They are threatening to take your shop away from you and your talking to your little ho at work for hours on end? What is wrong with you?
Oh, wait, that’s right – you’re a man and you’re thinking with your little head. No, not that little head – the one below your waist.
Yes, it sounds like I’m a man hater right now. I’m truly not. Some of my best friends are guys. They are totally different from the man that I am currently married to. I have to keep reminding myself of that, but I know it’s true.
I was going to post reasons that I have to be happy about my life, but I just don’t have it in me right now. It just isn’t there for me.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Maybe tomorrow the lawyer will tell me that I can totally f*ck him over. Maybe, just maybe, the sun will come out and I’ll be happier.
Maybe, by tomorrow, I’ll have forgotten all about the phone bill. Probably not, but it’s worth hoping for.
As if today weren’t bad enough, I went to his FB page and found this.
WARNING: The image below may cause nausea, vomiting or high-school giggle fests. Please look at your own risk.
Told you it was vomit inducing.