Stuff – just more stuff

It’s been forever since I sat down to…. unleash some of my thoughts.  It feels like so much has happened, yet everything is the same.  Life keeps moving, no matter how much I want and need it to slow down and maybe even stop for a bit.  Just a short press of the pause button, that’s all I would like.  That’s not true.  I want a lot more.  Like a lot, a lot.  A fuck-ton more. 

What do I want?  I want answers.  I want discussion.  If someone asked, “how is your relationship/marriage?” What would the answer be?  Good?  OK?  Normal?  Is that the truth?  Is that what is perceived or what is real? 

Thinking back over the last almost four years, I have left and returned three times.  Not once was there any meaningful communication when I returned.  Just silence.  I always crawled back, tail between my legs.  Back into the position of wife, mom, Mimi, daughter, sister.  The way everyone expects me to be.  Not me as a person, but me as a wife, mom, Mimi, daughter, sister.  As long as I am here, everything is ok.  As long as I go to sleep in the same bed, wake up in the same bed, do the same things over and over again, everything is ok.  Because I am here, where I am supposed to be. 

Nothing was ever worked out or talked about when I returned.  It was just accepted that things go back to “normal” to the status quo. But there was always silence when I came back.  The silence is uncomfortable, but somehow comfortable.  Because after the chaos of the kids and grandkids leave, the silence returns.  The silence has always been part of the relationship.  There are just times where the silence screamed louder than others.   This is one of those times.  I feel the anger, the rush of emotion, the resentment, the fear, the unhappiness.  I feel it all from you, but we can’t talk about it.  Talking will make it real.

My therapist once told me, no good marriage ends in an affair.  There I said it.  The word.  The word that gets ignored.  The action that gets ignored. 

Something just hit me and hit me hard.  The times I came back, the times there were small talks, the times where I needed more, the times where the emotions were rolling out of me; I was never asked what I wanted.  I have asked that question thousands of times.  What do you want?  It’s a hard question to ask, right?  What do I want?

Author: howdoilifeweb

Late 40's, wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend.

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