So, in my new life, midnight is, apparently, crying time. I can't stop. I'm crying over things that haven't even happened yet, and things that are just impossible to fix. The overwhelming unfulfillable desire that's pretty much taking charge is "I WANT TO GO HOME." Because more than anything, I do. I want to go home. I want my husband back...the one that a good majority of this blog has been about over the years, the one from before the other night, in that INSTANT where everything went to hell. I just want to go home. The last time I felt this way, and cried this hard, the unfulfillable demand I was making of the Universe was, "I WANT MY DADDY BACK." That's how deep this hurts.
I'm not some hero who bravely and decisively "did the right thing" and then everything was great. I'm conflicted, I'm depressed, I'm anxious, and I'm homesick. Bella isn't yet, but she will be soon. Mostly right now, she wants to be where I am, though she's very worried about her dad. I'm worried about him. His family has shut me out, and I don't know if they're doing the same to him, but I wouldn't know, since they won't speak to me. I do know that he has nowhere to go. Nowhere. No one in his family will take him in. His only income comes from disability, and his health insurance is mine. And yet, we need for him to get out of the house for a bit, so we can get in.
I can't believe the three of us are not seeing the Harry Potter movie together. It's unthinkable. I don't know--maybe stuff like that wouldn't be so bad. It's in public, then we leave, and we don't have to speak at all, but Bella gets to spend fun time with her dad. I don't know. I don't know ANYTHING.
And here, I'm going to just go ahead and share the most shameful secret I have right now, right out there in public, because maybe someone else is at THIS decision point, and this could help.
That secret is that, deep inside, I am actually thinking to myself, "If I had just kept quiet about this and handled it in my own way, I could be at home right now." I could have us in separate rooms, leading civil but non-intimate lives together. I could have my financial information protected, and he would undoubtedly, at this point, give me complete control over all finances. I COULD BE HOME, AND NO ONE WOULD BE THE WISER. I could be surrounded by my dogs, looking out those big windows at my beautiful horses. I could be discussing that new med cocktail the doc put him on with my husband, and we'd undoubtedly be sharing some of our inside shrink-jokes, and things would SEEM normal. Almost. Curse it, it's canning season, and all my jars are there. So many tiny things that are ruined, and these combine into one colossal, painful, longing for the impossible.
So there it is. I know it can't be, but I can't make it not be what I wish for, in my heart of hearts. I want to go home. I just want to go home to a different life.