Wednesday, October 2, 2013

"Mawmm, Can Daddy Hold Me?"

I hear his music before I hear the car door slam.
This is how I know he's home.
He has come back.
For us.
I run down the driveway, and meet him halfway to the house.
I jump in his arms and he picks me up.
As I wrap my legs around his waist and kiss his neck,
I breathe in his smell and run my hands up the back of his freshly cut hair.
I'm home.
Adaline comes running up behind me.
"Mawwwm what are you doing, Mawmm? Oh Daddy. My Daddy is home!! My Daddy came to my house to see me, aww I love you Daddy! Mawmm can Daddy hold me? Get down!"
My feet touch the ground, but I feel like I'm flying still.
He bends and picks up our girl.
I see the man who owns every piece of my soul hold the life we made together...
Equal parts me. Equal parts him...
In his strong callous covered hands.
He pulls me in.
Holding both of his girls.
All three of us are crying and kissing.
I am HOME...



And then I wake up.

Alone.

Wet from tears and sweat.
Heart racing.

Alone.

It has been one whole year since he held his girls in his arms.
One whole year since he kissed us good bye with out a second thought.
And I am still shattered.
Living inside of my dreams and fantasies because reality hurts too much.
The reality is, my husband lives with another woman.
And I am for all intents and purposes a single mother.
Who still walks every day with her husbands name tattooed on her like a scarlet letter.
A reminder every day of what she never really had.
A reminder of every memory she holds in her soul.

Life is g r e a t.
I have a beautiful, smart, healthy three year old daughter.
Her curls are getting longer and longer,
It seems every day her eyes get brighter,
and her lashes get longer like her Daddy's.
She walks with a bounce just like he does.
She sings and dances just like he used to.
It has been One whole year, and 17 days since she was in his arms..
and somehow she still has so much of him in her.
I am so lucky I get to see the good parts, my favorite parts of him, in her.

I have more friends, yah know the real kind..the kind that are family, than I have ever had.
I have crossfit which fills me with passion and strength I never knew I had.
I am moving in a positive direction every day.
More into the woman I was supposed to be.
Less of the woman I became when I was with him.
And if you were to run into me at the market while we were shopping for produce...
And you were to ask me "how are you doing?"
I would tell you "I'm great. Happy. Really happy."
And I would mean it.
I would really mean it.
I am happy.

BUT when I let it, there's a hole.
And it hurts me.
And I miss him.

Everynight as I sit cross legged on the floor reading to Adaline, I sniff her little head and she laughs.
She smells so much like him, it's the strangest thing ever.
I never want to forget that smell.
That is the smell of home.


I just want to wrap my legs around his waist, and breate in his smell.
We could do it.
We could all be home.




Tuesday, September 10, 2013

"You were dwelling on being a victim instead of reveling in being a survivor."

Today it's been a year since the car was packed and we started our journey home.
I don't even know that girl who looked out the window with tears in her eyes as we passed through the city.

My story has become my identity.
Being a woman who was abused and left was who I let myself be.
But now a year later I am so much more than that.

I don't want to won't tell that part of my story anymore.
I want to will live and relish in the opportunity for a new start.
I want to will take advantage of being strong enough to take my life back.
I want to will be the woman I know I was always meant to be.

Today is the first day of the second year of my divorce.
The last year has been for healing, this year will be for building.



Monday, August 26, 2013

never win the war



Sometimes we expect betrayal when it happens. Other times it takes us completely by surprise. When I found out Adam's girlfriend was invited to one of my Arkansas friends baby shower...that was a surprise. I had never honestly felt more betrayed in my whole life than in that moment. How could they welcome her into their home knowing full well what she took from me, what she took from Addy. How could HE allow that to even happen? And then I realized, honestly it didn't even matter.

We haven't spoke in over a week, and I intend for it to stay that way. There is no reason for there to be further conversation. The horse is dead, and though I am not flying my white flag, quite the opposite really, I am done. Resigned. Giving up.

The fact of the matter is my life, who I am, who I have become is more of myself now then ever before when I was with Adam. For the first time in my entire life I truly am okay with who I have become. I trust my decisions, and I know my own strength.

Every step of the way, from the first time he hit me, to when I found out about his cheating, to when I found out about his girlfriend...finding about her visting my home, then weeks later moving in. When he didn't pay me money he was supposed to, every time he pays less child support then we agreed on...every single time I've let it surprise me. Disappoint me. I've left my life open to him to hurt me, to hate me, to punish me. What's he punishing me for? I don't know, his own guilt probably. If he even has the capacity to feel that emotion.

Reguardless. I'm done.
I have no more words about him.
For him.
Positive or negative.
It just is.
He was my husnand.
He was Adaline's Dad.
Now he's not.
Life goes on.
One day the nightmares and cold sweats will stop.
One day I will stop crying, stop hurting.
And for now I think the only thing I can do is cut him off.
He may win the battles, but he will never win the war.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Four eyes.
Two Hazel.
Two green.
Four arms.
Two brown.
Two ivory.
Four feet.
Dancing.
His lips pressed to my ear singing to me as he twirls me around the kitchen.

My sweet boy.
The boy I made a family with.
The boy I wanted to grow old with.

He was mine and I was his.
I was his dream.
His world.
And he reminded me every single day.

Then he went away and became a soldier.
He was mean and distant.
When I was upset or being stubborn he didn't grab me and drag me across the floor anymore...singing in my ear.

He was the only one who touched me.
Even if they were hateful touches.
It made it better later when he kissed away the pain.

I survived for the last 5 years on memories of MY sweet boy.

It has been eleven months since he held me for the last time.
Since he made love to me.
Since he held me and we cried.
Since he kissed me on the forehead, said to me "I will always love you Al." and then said "Goodbye"

When he walked out of that door in his uniform and went back to work, his expression didn't change.
His composure didn't waiver.
He wasn't my sweet boy anymore.
There was nothing about him that I recognised, besides those deep sad hazel eyes,
and those sweet little lips that used to sing to me.

It has been eleven months since I have let anyone touch me.
Not my family.
Not my friends.
Even when my Adaline touches me I flinch.
I can't look in anyone's eyes...
Any touch, any compliment, any attention makes me nervous.
Shut down.

Who was I?
What did he do to me that made me this person?
I am so happy, my life is so full.
But I am so guarded.

Why did he break down all my walls, just to build his own and walk away.
I'm left broken, and he's there, being her sweet boy.
Spending weekends with her and OUR friends.
People I shared our darkest secrets with.
People I trusted.
The betrayal never ends.
I just want it to end.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

I'd still choose you.

Your hands can heal,
Your hands can bruise.
I don't have a choice,
But I'd still choose you.
I don't love you,
But I always will...

No truer words ever existed.
In so many ways I am a better person, I'm happier, my life is full.
Emotionally I feel fulfilled, something I never felt in my marriage.
I am starting to remember all the reasons I absolutely despised Adam & the way I never trusted him.
The way when something went wrong I always turned to my Dad and then fixed it myself.
Adam was never the head of our household, physically, mentally or spiritually.
For years I pushed him away and wines that I wanted to go home.
How could he not stray from our marriage?
He knew I hated him, but he also knew I was too loyal to ever leave!
So he did what he had to to make me go.
He tried yelling, that didn't work.
He tried hitting, that didn't work.
Then he admitted to cheating, even that almost didn't work.
It wasn't until the day I looked in Addy's eyes as he held me against the wall that I knew it was time to go.
I hate him so much.
He failed us.
He isn't a man.
...why does my soul still ache for him?
...why deep in my gut do I feel like calling him in the middle of the night when I wake up from a bad dream, or when addy does something exciting?
....why.

Monday, August 19, 2013

Letting the Bad Thing Catch Me...

"Hello
It's me again
A whole lot's changed
Since I left and
I don't know I guess
I felt like checking in
Surprise
You let it ring
Well it's your turn to
Leave me hanging
I don't care
I know you love it
When you see me call
I wonder who you're loving now
I'm guessing we won't work things out
You know what they say
You can't have it so you want it back
I'm way past that
Believe me
If you could be in my life
Like you've been on my mind
It'd be so easy
Hello
It's me again
It's three days now
That you've been in my dreams
And I don't know, I guess
You've just been on my mind
I don't know, I guess
I think about you all the time
I wonder if she's much like me
I wonder if she's what you need"



We avoid it for only so long before the bad thing we are running from catches us.
The Past.
Him.
He is my dark thing.
And he always catches me...
Wether it's through a memory, a nightmare, or hearing his sleepy voice on a Saturday morning through the phone from 1,500 miles away.


Sometimes I wonder if I do it to myself on purpose, allow him in.
And sometimes I'm pretty sure he does do it on purpose, allows me to.

We celebrated Adaline's third birthday this past weekend. Her birthday was in June, but my Nana passed the weekend before her party, so we cancled it. Saturday morning as I was trying to get us ready to go to the grocery store he called. His sleepy little voice wanted to talk to Addy. Instead I argued. I screamed. I cried. I shook. I threw myself around.

I could just see his bare chest, and his hand in the waist band of his navy blue nike shorts while he paced around the room and looked out the window talking to me. Listening to me allow him to take me to that place...again. I think that is the hardest part about these moments, I know that man better than I know myself. And it absolutely kills me knowing that she was there, in the kitchen making his eggs, wearing one of his t-shirts, and they were getting ready for a day together. When he's home, when he's with her...he is so mean, his words break my heart in two. Especially when just a few days ago, while he was on a trip he spoke to me like he used to. We shared a memory for a second...it made my heart skip a little. Then he went home to her, and it made those few moments, and the memory of the dresser with my legs wrapped around his waist, my nails running up his strong back, absolutely irrelevant.

I cried most of the morning, I let it chase me, and catch me.
I surrendered to the dark thing.


Being surrounded by people is something that I love. I love to cook for everyone. I love to have everyone come into a clean house. To see all my hard work and to laugh and smile and drink and be happy. We used to have parties every weekend in Arkansas. It made it feel like home, like we were all a real family, eventhough all of us were miles and miles from our real homes. Our real families.

This weekend, Addy's birthday was the first party I have hosted not in my own home. It was the first time I had made pasta salad and not put it in my matching serve ware. It was the first time I had cut up all the veggies, not on my bamboo cutting board with my Henkel knives. It was the first time I made corn bread with out my kitchen aid stand mixer. In my kitchen. On my stove. In my home. And it was more then I could handle. I let it catch me again. I stood and chooped and cried and cried and cried.

I've had nightmares every night this past week.
Dreams of him.
The bad thing caught me, even in my sleep.

Some days are harder then others. Some days I can hate him and mean it. I can hate him for all he gave us, then took away. I can hate him for the fact that he would never be where he is today if it weren't for me, yet he is a disrespectful little rat who says things like "you're not my family anymore" "you'll never be half the woman she is Al" "you never finish anything you do Al" "you aren't going to win, I won't give up this fight al" AL AL AL! I hate when he calls me Al. I hate that I don't hate him. I hate that when I close my eyes he is all that I see. I hate that I cannot escape him. I try and try and try.

But the truth is, I love my husband. I am in love with my husband. Still.
And it is absolutely destroying me.
I want him to just come home.
To feel my skin, and remember.
To look at Adaline and know we are a family.
And I know that is exactly why he hasn't come home.
Hurt people, Hurt people.
My voice on a Saturday morning does exactly the same thing to him as his does to me.
I hear it every time he says Al, even if it's in hate.
He has to say those things, for what, for her? For himself?
The truth is I never did anything to hurt that man. I have never done anything but give him every bit of me that I had to give and then some.
I just don't want to be his ghost anymore.
I'm sick of the bad thing catching me.
How much longer can this possibly take?
It's been a year, he is trying to fool his heart into believe he has moved on...
And I am drowing.
Some days are great, I love being with out him...
And then the darkness catches me, and all I want is him to come home and save us.



Friday, August 16, 2013

Rising every time we fall...

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but rising everytime we fall."

twenty two weeks.




That's how long ago I started crossfit.
Twenty weeks ago my heart was in pieces.
I was 40 pounds heavier.
I was lonley.
And I had absolutely no idea who I was anymore now that I wasn't "Adam's Wife"
All my best friends were 1500 miles away.
I was miserable, and lost, and I felt like a failure.

In the last twenty two weeks I have started to put myself together agian.
Crossfit gave me confidence, strength, taught me to love myself again.
Crossfit gave me a family.
Crossfit has made me a better Mother, a more patient person.
Crossfit has taught me how strong I really am.
Crossfit has given me the strength to tell Adam to go to hell, and actually mean it.
Crossfit has given me a place to escape...to work out all my emotions.

Every bit of work I put into crossfit, I get back.
Something I did not get from my marriage.




Being a single, divorced, young mother is something that I was ashamed of.
Now I know it shows how strong I am.
I made a choice to leave a bad situation, to protect my baby and myself.
To not settle for something that no longer made me happy.
I didn't "run" away from my marriage.
I didn't "quit" my marriage because it was hard.
I left because I was getting less then I deserved.

In those last weeks I found strength somewhere inside of myself...
As soon as I got home, I lost it.

The day I walked into crossfit I found it again.

I had a bad week this week, I let myself get frustrated, I QUIT my first WOD ever...
I cried and freaked out because I failed at something.
Crossfit girls don't do that.
I don't do that.Adam used to always say to me "You never finish anything you start..."
He knew that would cut deeper than anything he could have ever said.
He was always so good with words that way.
But it wasn't true then, and it isn't true now.
On Wednesday as I sat on the loading dock and cried all I heard was Adam...
"You never finish anything to start"
Over and Over and Over.


Wednesday I talked to my girlfriends that I crossfit with, they reminded me how far I have come and encouraged me.
Wednesday Izz's dad followed me out of the gym to see what was wrong...
Because I don't quit but that night I did.
He talked to me for a good twenty minutes, and I felt so much better when I left.
This morning Izz texted me to ask if I was alright, told me to come back Monday stronger.
Reminded me that everyone has an off day, that we fail so that we are stronger in life.
Afterall it's how we rise from the fall that defines us, not the fall itself.

The most valuable thing Crossfit has given me is a family.
Not the kind of family I had with Adam, the kind where you give everything...
And in return get torn down.
NO.
Crossfit has given me the kind of family that builds eachother up, and encourages eachother.
When one of us falls we pick eachother up.
That is the kind of family I am proud to be part of.