I feel like I have lost so much this year.
So I am glad this shit is almost over. A part of me is anyway. Then another part of me wonders what more I will lose of myself THIS year. Which piece will go next?
When I was seven years old I wanted to be a President. When I was ten I wanted to be Miss World. When I was 16 I wanted to be the youngest best selling author. When I was 18 I just wanted a boyfriend. And that want never stopped. I just wanted someone to live for. freaking pathetic but it was how I was wired. How I AM wired. Boyfriends, to one too many losers, to one husband.
And here I am still alone and wishing I had just stuck with the best selling author thing.
I had gotten married over five years ago. I am still married. Legally. This year alone we have talked of separation probably half a dozen times, been separated for 8 months now. We thought it was where we lived, so we moved. We thought it was our families so we distanced ourselves from them. We have fought about the petty things. Those are the things I have written about. "Haha men and their X Boxes. Haha men and their obsessions. Haha haha... ha ha. Hmmm."
I wish it was all about X Box. I wish it was all about all night binges on Halo and The Red Shoe Diaries. I wish I wish I wish...
I have been raised never to quit things yet I have always been a quitter. And for once in my life I vowed... "I will not quit this. I will make this work. IT WILL WORK."
So I told myself lies. I told myself I didn't matter. When he screamed at me, when he told me to get the fcuk out of his life I told myself "I am hard to live with." When he told me he didn't want me because I wasn't as pretty as when we first met I told myself "Yes. He is right. Go to the gym. Do not let yourself go." When he told me he stayed with me because he felt sorry for me I said to myself "Yes. Of course." When he told me he didn't want the same days off as me because he stated "I need my alone time. I don't need to see you that much." I thought "Yes. Again, I am not anything special. I will never be a woman a man can truly be in love with." When he would get violently drunk and fall asleep on the couch every night I thought "What could I do differently?" When he told me his whole family hated me I tried everything in my power to think of ways to get them to love me even though I could drop a million dirhams on their door step and they would still wish I was someone else. I never understood who they wanted me to be. But I tried my damndest to be that someone. Jesus, pathetic. All of it.
He will never read this because he has no interest in what I have to say or do. He does not know I write. Well... He knows I type things sometimes. He doesn't know I have over 300 old journals, started novels, short stories, or articles... just on this computer. When I told him about the boxes and boxes of notebooks I had from when I was a kid he thought it was odd that i was collecting so much junk and always seemed top complain about his box of wires... I don't sing in the shower anymore. I don't read as much. It all seems so trivial. But its as if he never knew my soul. Its as if he never cared.
And of course, I can be blamed still. I did marry him even knowing all of this.
I don't have any balls, literally or figuratively. And I use to have big ones! (Figuratively.) I prided myself on a strong sense of self-worth, identification, confidence and all those other Oprah-ish qualities you read about in magazines. The ones with the big headlines and the toothy brunette in pastels next to the big positive captioned woman mantras. I loved myself. I loved my life. (somewhat.) I was interesting to talk to. When I laughed it was real. It wasn't out of politeness. It wasn't out of not having any clue what else to do or say.
Part of me still fears losing him. Part of me is so scared of regretting him later, wishing I had kept trying. Its what keeps me still. Its what makes me apologize for arguments he starts and finishes. Its what makes me beg for him not to leave me, its what makes me turn into something that makes me sick.
My life is literally in ruins. I can say that with little worry or care. I have no idea what to do. I have no idea what the next step is. I just know there has to be something more then this. I always swore to myself this would never be me. And I am right in the thick of it, the thick of a nightmare. I have to get out of it. I have given this whole thing about 23 second chances. Well there's really no such thing as ANOTHER second chance is there?
The initial shame of it all went away a long time ago. I come from a family and community that still thinks of a dissolution of marriage as a sin. But all I can say is this... I haven't felt God in a long time. So this can't be something He would necessarily wish for me to sustain. I tell myself this and it makes me weep. Because the potential disappointment overwhelms me still, I can't completely fool myself about that. But I find myself slowly no longer caring what others will think.
I'm not one of those dumbass bitches that says "I deserve better" because no one deserves anything in life and love. What you get is what you demand. And I have to start demanding something else.
Because a part of me is still that sheepish teenage book worm who wants a love to live for. Not one that makes her feel like dying.
My heart and brain somehow feels much lighter after unloading this off my chest. I don't have that trsutful people around me to say this to them without being judged in anyways.
This is posted here in hopes that a few may actually read this and say a prayer out aloud for things to change for the better.