I talk to my mother nearly every day. She is, quite honestly, one of my very best friends. I tell her *almost* everything. There are just some things that a mother shouldn’t know and I keep those to myself. However, I’ve stopped holding back where it concerns the dissolving of my marriage.
Today I told her that my
douchebag husband, might be useful if I get this job I interviewed for. I would need to get into the base system and since the asshole he works at the squadron that handles those things, I might be able to get the stuff done quicker.
I told her, “I’ll use him for my purposes and then throw him away like the toilet paper I wiped my butt with.”
She laughed and said, “Well, as long as you’re not bitter at all!”
Who? Me? Bitter? No way!
OK, yes I’m bitter. I’m bitter about the way this whole thing has gone down. I’m bitter about the fact that he is throwing all of his energies into this woman instead of his job. I’m bitter about the fact that I’ve already been thrown away even though I’m RIGHT FREAKING HERE!
Because I think that’s what hurts the most. The one person in the world that is supposed to care about, by dint of the vows they took, is your spouse. They are legally bound to care about you (alright, I know this sounds naive, but follow my logic here). They are supposed to care that you don’t feel good or that your down or that something happened to you that isn’t right or fair. They are SUPPOSED to care.
And he doesn’t anymore. He doesn’t come right out and say, “I don’t care about you anymore.” No, it’s more insidious than that. It’s me telling him where I’m going (so he can wonder if I don’t come back) and him saying, “Whatever.” Or me asking him a question and him answering, “I don’t care.”
He has done that all through our marriage, when he’s miffed or pissed. And it doesn’t hurt any less than it hurts now. Especially now when he’s also posting all those wonderful Farmville pictures for all to see. Cause those pictures are just salt in the wound.
I should be able to call up my husband and celebrate things with him, accomplishments in my life. When I told him I had two job interviews today, instead of the scheduled one, he texted me “Sweet. I wish you the best of luck.” Not because he wanted to celebrate the triumph, but because I need the money to move out so that we can get a divorce.
I don’t know if I have a leg to stand on with this. I couldn’t give a crap less about him either. But at least I’m trying to pretend I do. When he wanted to bitch about his job, I commiserated with him. Told him he was right and the powers that be were wrong. When something goes well for him, I tell him, “Good job.” When he talks about his schooling and other professional education, I support him.
Maybe I should just quit that. It doesn’t do any good. He’s not going to reciprocate in any way, shape or form. Why should I expend the effort if he’s not going to? Why should I pretend to be anything other than what I am? I’ve been pretending for a long time and I’m sick of it.
At this point, I have to pretend to eat with him because he turns my stomach so badly.
I just want all of this to be over. I want it finished and done with. The aftermath of being forgotten I should be able to handle nicely.
The process of being forgotten, well…it’s a bitch.