You Didn’t Ever Fight For Me

Very shortly thereafter, I got drunk.

That weekend, I was scheduled to housesit for Jeff and Jenny, and take care of their sweet dog, Mia.  I was exhausted from the day’s events, and asked Andrea to come over and stay with me.

I didn’t want to be alone.

She brought flowers, two bottles of champagne, and beer, just in case.  We drank the champagne pretty quickly and ended up outside, running around, giggling and playing tag within the confines of the white picket fence.  I did handstands and cartwheels.  Eventually we collapsed into a heap of laughter on the front lawn, laid on our backs and watched shooting stars fall from the sky.  We dubbed ourselves, “The Harmless Housesitters”.   It felt good to “play” and temporarily escape the surge of pain that was sure to hit after I emotionally processed what had just happened.

We woke up the next morning and giggled our way to Roscoe’s House of Chicken ‘n Waffles for breakfast.   I publicly announced my drunkenness and lack of a bra on Facebook and, frankly, didn’t give a shit.  I had been hiding for a long time.  It felt good to finally look — and be — imperfect.

I spent the rest of the day on Jeff and Jenny’s sunny porch, writing.

I am not strong.  I am weak and needy. Sad, lonely, hurt.  Incredibly hurt that my husband made the choices he did.  We were happy, I thought.  I was happy with him.  I didn’t want to be divorced.  And even though it’s a nice fantasy to think that there is someone out there who will love me and be affectionate; warm and caring – do I really believe it?  Will the love go away?  Who really will love me?

God, I am having a hard time now – the effects of the nervousness have worn off, as has the beer.  And at the end of the day I am alone.  My husband will leave for Australia in one week and I probably will never see him again.

God, I know You are sovereign over all creation and situations.  You have my life in Your grip. You have his.  And You have our marriage.

I genuinely do not want to be married to him anymore.  His journey is far too long and vast – I believe You can perform miracles but I don’t know what Your plan is.

And still – he was the one.  My husband.  My favorite person in the world.  Who betrayed himself, first.  And hurt me deeper than I have ever thought imaginable.  My husband, so plagued by his sin, could no longer truly love me.  And it hurt so badly and it still hurts so much…there really wasn’t closure but how CAN there be?  He’s tragically incapable of doing anything, taking any responsibility.

Yet he will forever remain a part of my soul.  My husband, whom I loved so much.  And still love.  And lost. 

I am scarred, broken.  But I know I am healing.

A couple of days later I had dinner with Tim, Joseph, Katie, Curt and Kathy.  Tim and my husband had met for coffee earlier in the day.  Tim sensed my husband was experiencing a major internal struggle.  He expressed his concern and wonderment at the whole thing  — and told me he was continuing to pray for our reconciliation.

I was confused.  I had the support of all of our friends, but I didn’t want any of them to pray for the reconciliation of my marriage.  I was done.  I had already experienced the final death of the relationship and done all of the work to end it, “amicably”.  My husband did nothing, showed up and told me he was done, and got to walk away, scott-free.

I had lost – and was continuing to lose – everything.  I just wanted to focus on getting the divorce done.  I had just a few days left while my husband was in town, so I had to take advantage of it.  I made an appointment with both the Mediator and our marriage counselor.

I emailed my husband:
If you have any time I think it would be good to talk through the mediation paperwork so we can save some money (time) on Thursday.

Thanks,

L

He offered to meet up with me that night, and somewhere in Pasadena around 8:00 would work.

I mostly need to get information from you.  I can just photocopy the forms that she gave me and you can fill them out.  Any way we can calmly fill out info and allow the mediator to teach us the process will be good. Could we could make it 7:00?  You name the place, I can’t think of one.

He suggested the Yard House.  It immediately stung my heart.

I’d kind of prefer not to go there, since we were there for our wedding anniversary.
I need you to bring all of your bank info (even Australia bank), Sallie Mae, credit cards, etc.  Don’t worry, it’s just information.

He then suggested Lucky Baldwin’s, because he wanted a beer.

I made an appointment with (our marriage counselor) at 5:00 for Wednesday, Maybe we should just meet then?  Unless you want to meet tonight, too.

He didn’t feel like talking about anything, but if I wanted to meet up with him for any other reason, then he was up for it.

I don’t know what else there is to talk about, I guess. Both people are done with a relationship.  I just want it to end well.

He disagreed with such a thing as “ending it well”.  He was tired of fighting, arguing, feeling like he was hurting, and being hurt.

Me too.
I guess if you could hug me one more time I’d really like that, but I don’t trust you at all and I don’t think you really, truly care.
I’m tired of fighting with you.  We are both losing.  Nobody wins.  I never wanted this.
You didn’t ever fight for me.

He didn’t feel like getting into it, and said that he was going for a walk.

Ahh, yes, the walk.  I remember that well. OK.
See you Wednesday.

He balked at my response.

I’m sorry.  I just have sad memories of the last walk you took.
No more digs.
We can end this well.  I want to, because I love you.  And you are free.  I am setting you free.

He never wanted to be free, and said that he never would be.  He just wanted understanding.

I know.  I hear you.
And I just wanted to be loved and not left.

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