Drift

The red velvet curtain has closed, the heavy blood stained material will part no more. I am no longer pregnant. I cramped pretty bad, took a lot of pain pills and now its over. I passed what I assumed (and was later confirmed, thanks Nurse Wretched) to be the actual placenta and fetus. It was a soft yet firm ball of tissue that bounced out of my panties like a rubber toy. I picked it up in my hand and felt that still, wet warmth. At that moment I knew. I knew.

The abortion itself wasn't as bad as I thought. I took the meds, fell asleep, woke to the sound of G knocking at the door, woke to talk with him a little and then shared the delicious Japanese food that he brought. He laughed at how fucked up I was. He cuddled with me some, got me another pain pill when the time came, and then laid with me as I drifted back into the codeine dream. When I woke at around four the lights were all off. I got up and took a shower, brushed my teeth, smoked a bowl and laid back down. At this point the waves of sadness, relief, and longing took over me. I cried. When G opened his eyes he asked me what was wrong, but didn't budge to comfort or hold me. I felt something die inside. I didn't feel that he was there with me.

I called that morning to his work after he left and tried to break up with him. My heart was breaking, I didn't know how to cope. In my haze of hormones and emotions and pharmaceutical opiates it was the right thing to do. He didn't call me back that day. I cried off and on late into the night. I woke early with no notice from him and took his things with me to his house to leave them there. Seeing his things made me feel so sad and lonely that I couldn't bear to have them in my space.

Yes, in retrospect, I feel that I over reacted. The last weeks have been hard on me physically and emotionally. I haven't had the time or energy to really think things through. Well, rationally, that is. Sure, it's a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart. I have to really look at things with my eyes wide open due to my depression. I tend to inflict my crazy on those I love. I'm working on that.

I got a text later that afternoon from his phone, the one that had been MIA for the last month. We talked. He told me that he loved me and that he didn't want to split. He got sad and got drunk that night and instead of walking home, he walked the mile to the house where his phone was and got it turned on that day. I can see that he is trying. I can see that I have my own set of issues to work through. I can see that we need to take it a day at a time and cross each bridge as it comes, because I see this man as someone I could potentially have a future with. I know that a man is not a plan (thanks to Ms Single Mama) but this one is one I'd like to keep around for a while if I can.

Edit the sad parts

G came over the night I wrote my last blog post. He was drunk, had been robbed by his cabbie and his thuggish friends, and he was pissed off. It wasn't really a supportive event. He came by work the next day and we got to talk a little. Then I hung out with him the night before last. That was better. I much prefer to see him when he isn't drinking. Its a bit like swimming upstream when I try to have a meaningful conversation with him otherwise. It was good talking with him on Friday, though. He's going to spend that day with me while I'm going through the hard parts. He's going to pay for half. He is being incredibly supportive and kind to me through this whole thing. I just have fear that after its over that he might get out while the getting is good. I plan to get an IUD either way, I don't want this to happen again. But I'm afraid that he may be scared off. I don't blame him one little bit.

I'm working on a painting right now that captures what I'm feeling completely. I'm trying to channel this into creativity so that I can deal with it all. I'm just overwhelmed when I'm feeling anything at all.

Exactly where I'm at

The last few years of my life have been filled with depression and desperation. I wanted out of my marriage so badly, and god knows why I stayed as long as I did. I was young when we met and didn't heed the red flags waving all around me. I was blinded by love, or whatever it was that I was blinded by. I know that when I met my ex-husband that I was hungry for someone who wanted me all to themselves for a change. I wanted to settle down some and have a boyfriend. I didn't want this limbo I had been kept in with the relationship I had before him.

The relationship I left before I got together with my ex was fraught with problems, from the lack of my communication to his lack of commitment. I still love and care for him and we still talk from to time to time and are on good terms. We saw one another back before the new year and had a good afternoon together. He was in town because his band had a break in their touring schedule and we had been meaning to meet up when he had a chance for at least a year. We kissed. The kiss was good but the connection that we had was shot to shit. That is what it took to see that I'm much more over him than I gave myself credit for. I thought he was the closest thing to "the one" that I would find for many years. I used that as a crutch. I can see that now.

Its sad to say that I knew things were over before I even got pregnant with my first son. I knew it, though. I was planning to leave him and move in with my best friend. We had an apartment picked out and everything. I wound up pregnant. Being young and foolish and having had an abortion previously, I didn't want to terminate. Of course I love my sons very much, but in retrospect, motherhood isn't really something that I feel I was cut out for. Other women seem to have this preternatural ability to care for and coddle their children. I just don't experience that well of nurturing. I'm not sure if I'm defective or what, but its just not there.

Once I tried to leave him. A few years ago. He just didn't stay away. It didn't take. After promises to work on things and make them better we reconciled. We had another child. Things were still shitty and he was getting more controlling and more emotionally abusive as time went on. I felt trapped by the children. I couldn't leave the house if he wasn't watching them and with his full time job, his band, his religion, his friends.. There just wasn't time for me.

I hit the brick wall about a year ago. I knew this wasn't for me. I got fed the fuck up with bullshit and excuses and being accused of cheating when there wasn't time in the day nor an opportunity available. I started painting again and spending less time on the internet, less time on message boards (which were a great help and support when I needed them, but I don't feel so much that I need it anymore) and more time out of the house and doing things. He hated it. He was jealous and nervous and accusatory. I was becoming more emotionally divorced from him as time went on. With every email break in, rude look when the phone rang, mean question.. My heart hardened and turned away. I lost all sexual interest in him. I started having a crush on one of my artist friends, I started having dreams. I wanted to look nice. I started taking care of myself again. Despite the increase in number and intensity of the fights with my ex I was feeling good about myself for a change. I did things because I wanted to do them, no other reason. That was completely new.

Now I'm in a place where I'm doing what is best for my kids and I and I'm seeing that what is good for them is going to be what is good for me in the long run. I want to get an education and going to school will provide us all a better future, so that is my next aim. I've got a good job now that makes me happy. They can see me earning money and calling the financial shots, making my own decisions, not having to cook and clean because it was my "job" and being tethered to the house because I happened to be the female counterpart of this thing. These are things that worried me deeply about my marriage to their father. Knowing that this is what they perceived to be normal was nauseating. I don't want my sons to grow up to be sexist assholes. So they see me happy right now, doing what I want. They get to spend time with their dad, they get to spend time with me, and about once a week they get both of us at the same time. I want to be friends with him, I mean, I was married to him for seven years and I do have two kids with him. The person he was when we met isn't the person that is there now. I accept this and understand it a little easier than he does, I think.