Remind me

When I was younger, I would cling to certain songs that I could relate to- as if they were written specifically for my life. I don’t really do that anymore. I live in this shadow of thinking where everything is okay and if I have an issue with mentally accepting something, I place the thought on the back burner. -My way of no longer being guilty of “over-analyzing” things.

“If you still love me, don’t just assume I know.”

The past couple of years, my life- my life as a mother and wife can be expressed as everything in the form of a fairy tale. Granted, I don’t have the white horse. I don’t have the closet full of ball gowns, and as of late I do not have the prince charming.

Ever since my husband had asked for a divorce over a couple weeks ago, my life has been rattled. I’m disoriented and confused as to how to play out my ordinary life- to fix this.

“All those things that you used to do, that made me fall in love with you. Remind me.”

There is no question in my mind the love that I have for my husband. Even up until the moment that I thought he was engaging in an affair with another woman, I still plead for him to work it out with me. Clearly, the subject of him being involved in such an act was false- but how can I not suspect this from occurring? He never initiates sex and I’ve busted him masterbating more than once. At the very least, it was a hit at my body image- or self-esteem in some way. I’m throwing myself at you left and right… why wouldn’t you want this?

This all has cascaded to a taboo relationship these past couple of weeks. That, or he thinks that the issue of throwing divorce in my face is over and done with. Case closed.      Nope. Far from.

There are so many instincts inside me. Telling me to run. Or to go stay at a girlfriends house for a while. But I stay. I stay in fear that my absence will invoke a divorce lawyer on his part. Sometimes I wonder if that’s for the best. I mean, respectfully, who wants to be with someone that you have to persuade to stay with you all the time?

More specifically, he doesn’t look at me the same. More so the opposite. I find him giving me legitimate looks of disgust when I eat something greasy or full of fat. I always feel like I’m under a microscope. And the worst part is there are so many times that I feel that I’m not good enough. I feel like I’m in a constant competition to be the best person I can be for my husband- not because he makes me feel this way in a good way, I feel that I need to be all these things in order for him to stay.

Not that I feel I should have to sell myself- If someone were to read this entry: I strive to be great. I strive to stay in shape and have goals at all times. I’m 550% faithful to my husband and my marriage. There is always dinner on the table waiting for him when he comes home, a healthy packed breakfast and lunch waiting every morning in the refrigerator. Always. I am not the breadwinner in this family by any means, and I hate that I have little means of supplementing our income since our children are so young and daycare is so expensive. I like to think of myself as supermom. My children’s needs are always met before mine and the house, laundry, vacuum, mopping, cleaning of sorts is always done before my husband returns home from work because I genuinely do not want him to lift a finger after his rough days at work. I am two semesters away from a Bachelors Degree in Criminal Justice. (Thus will make me the breadwinner in the household and does not change my opinion of my husband.)And I’m ridiculously physically fit. I can run 13 miles like it’s nothing and strive to run a full marathon this April. I am respectfully and constantly showing my husband how much I genuinely appreciate everything he does for me and the girls.

And ultimately, I feel like nothing. I feel that there are some days that I’m looking into the eyes of Mark Senior. The apathetic, narcissistic asshole of a pigheaded father in law of mine. I am living the nightmare of marrying my father in law.

I always thought that marriage was this wonderful fairy tale. That there is a man that will love you no matter what- give you the world and want nothing in return. I saw a life of chivalry, and romance. Bliss. Happiness. Unconditional.

I look at pictures of us- when we were happy. I can’t help but ponder, “What happened?” or “Who are these people?”

I hate myself everyday for allowing the way he treats me to continue. The old Jessica wouldn’t stand for this shit.


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