I let it out and I let it out some more. And, I'm coming to terms with having reached my limit. It took two years. H has broken me down. What we stood for is no longer. Twenty-four months of suffering is outweighing the 32 years of goodness he's provided. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I mourned H's absence. I mourned our M. I mourned the future I thought we had.
Why am I a mess all over again? What could be left mourn?
Ahh....the kids...
I love our kids and I've considered standing for their sake. For the family unit. Their little hearts. Their future of having 2 of each future celebration. I thought I knew the definition of broken home. It's called a broken home for a reason.
At this point, I'm not sure what the definition of winning looks like. The idea of looking at their father who once meant so much to all of us. That's a lot to ask of myself. Today, H is an absent body who does a lot of complaining and lives for his happiness he can't seem to find. I'm not competing. Call me weak. Call me strong. Let 'em.
I now focus on re-forgiving the man I once knew. Love H. Forgive the sin. This, this may take forever. I hope I can get there. For me.
I communicated 2 simple boundaries. Stay out of jail. Do not step outside our marriage. Apparently, I asked for too much.
Confusion. Hurt. Emptiness. Heaviness. Sorrow. Even I can't fix this. Drop the rope. Fully. Fully, drop the rope.
Is divorce what I want? Do I file bc the avoidant never will? Do I tell our adult kids?
Year after year, February proves to be the longest short month.
