Stupidity. Insanity. Over and over and expecting a different outcome. That is the entire purpose of breaking old patterns, building new and stronger ones. Like a broken bone. But sometimes, bones merely become horribly disfigured…
Like today. Here I am, sitting here wondering what it would be like to try surviving, knowing he will, someday, if not now, be lying and cheating and falling apart, if I could live with that.
Shouldn’t I rather be alone?
Where? Where will I be living?
Well, jump off that cliff. Fly into the night. See where it takes you.
Don’t beat yourself up for thinking about being with him again, dearheart. It is normal to wish. It is normal to wonder. It is normal to try to rationalize yourself back in to the known from a greater fear of the unknown.
Better the devil you know?
Better the love you have for yourself? Try that one, see if that fits even better. Don’t you love yourself enough to take care of yourself, protect yourself, know you deserve better, so much better, and manifest that in your life?
Because I am capable of great, open hearted love. Because I am strong and capable of accepting a great deal of human darkness. Because if he is ever going to recover, he has to fix this here, now, not run because he will only repeat and lose his mirror and his way and his growth. And I, mine. Projection? Maybe. For both.
Because if I stay I will be compromising my own values and accepting a world of pain, forever. Codepdency 101. And I know I will keep dancing close and far away, always terrified, never settling still, only settling for what little he is capable of giving. Never really here, never really there, never really anywhere.
Isn’t that life, too?
And would I be staying for all the horribly wrong reasons? What about my joy in life? What about my healing?
Can I heal if I don’t know the outcome of his healing? Is that simply paying too much attention to his issues and not enough to mine? Is that just obsessing? If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t wonder or worry? I shouldn’t care?
If I am stuck here anyway, is it wrong to try real kindness, for both of us?
Until I end up in such pain I am lashing out and screaming inside again?
Practicing patience, kindness, forgiveness?
Am I really that big a person?
Or that small?
Practice makes…….. perfect insanity?
Only questions? No answers. No visions. Nothing.
That, my dearheart, is truth.
I wished for honesty.
I got used.
It is no longer my ‘job’ to meet him halfway. I tried that. He used my willingness to be honest, and trusting, and supportive as a weapon. He took all my love, all my support, all my devotion, and threw it at whores for his pleasure.
It is his obligation to prove that he wants to be here, no where else, with no one else, more than anything in his life. Otherwise, he gets off scott free and I end up used all over again when he is convinced that I will stay no matter how cruel he treats me. All I gain is time. All I lose is more years I could have spent open for someone who actually knows how to care about another human being.
I don’t even know if I know how to care anymore. Gods, I do not ever ever want to treat someone else the way he treated me because of the fear and scars he has beaten in to me. He may think he never hit me, he never called me names, he never openly hurt me. Exactly.
If he had been open, I would have known how abused I was being, and left when I might have had a better chance.
No, he abused me in secret, in private, in his fantasy world where he was King-Infant. I got all the years of his abuse smashed into me in a few weeks, then more hits over the next months. He thinks I am playing victim. I am a victim. The abuse just doesn’t leave the kind of bruises that people expect. But it is abuse, hideous, insidious, and deadly just the same.
His excuse is he was too afraid.
I am now more terrified of him than anyone.
I have no idea just what he is actually capable of.
How many more lies is he willing to tell me to get what he wants?
He practiced lies and deceit and running sex ruts into his brain and immediate gratification and abuse for years.
I have practiced fear and sobbing and dancing on the edge of a sword for over a year.
I have practiced victim, because living in this house, with him, I feel like one.
I have tried to practice kindness, but it is so fleeting.
I have wanted to practice strength.
I want to practice freedom.