I woke this morning feeling sad. Just like I had lost something and I didn’t know how to get it back (or if I even wanted it back). Then this afternoon I got the call that I didn’t get either job I interviewed for. That was enough to unleash the flood gates. I went downstairs and told my husband and he had some flippant comment like, “Sorry you didn’t get the job.”
No encouraging words. No, “It’s their loss.” None of that. Just, “Sorry you didn’t get the job.”
Thanks for the support. I appreciate it.
I started to walk up the stairs but couldn’t make it. I sat down and started to cry. Cry is to genteel a term for what I did. I sobbed. I sniffled. I bawled. It was just too much. I had just reached my breaking point.
He came up the stairs and sat down next to me, rubbing my back. Through the tears I told him that we would no longer share a bed and that sex was forever off the menu. (Yes, I shouldn’t have to tell him these things, but I felt that having it out in the open would be better and lead to no misunderstanding.)
Then, through the tears, I asked him to stop humiliating me on Facebook. I told him that those Farmville pictures posted on his page were a bit much and they just added salt to the wound. I asked him why he posted them. Was it revenge or that he wanted to humiliate me or what? He said, and I quote, “I honestly didn’t think about how they would make you feel.”
Yes, he is just that clueless.
I told him that he’s already gone, that I don’t feel like he’s here anymore. He told me he would always be here. So I asked him why he stopped sleeping in bed with me (he did that on his own, I hadn’t yet kicked him out). He said it didn’t feel right to sleep with me anymore.
I said, “Cause you’re already gone.”
He had no comment.
He told me that he wouldn’t lie to me, that he felt alive for the first time in a long time.
I told him, “I guess I had to die to make you feel alive.”
He had no comment.
As he left this afternoon I said, “My mother used to tell my brother, when he was being bad, that she loved him but she didn’t like him very much.”
He says, “Are you trying to tell me something?”
I said, “I love you, but I don’t like you very much.”
He got in his car and drove away.
After he had left, I sent him a text apologizing for crying all over him. He sent back a text that said, “No, it’s my fault. I’m acting like a jackass.”
I had no comment.