I am spending my day in bed, nursing a cold. Trent told me I should read and relax and "stay off the computer", he said. "Why?" I had to ask. "It stresses you out to be on the computer. Don't do it. No Computer." "Nonsense." I said (well, maybe not those exact words) - and here I am, hours later, typing away.
I began writing my 3rd chapter of my book - Day 3 of my count down before I moved out in the dead of night to hide out until after my now ex was served with the protective order I had taken out on him. That got me questioning the order of things and so I pulled out my journals and began reading... that, of course, brings back all sorts of memories. The problem is, I poured out my heart in my journals during the worst of times. I know there were good times. I alluded to them and even mentioned that my entries made everything sound so bad with my marriage - but there were good times too. Unfortunately, they only lasted for a few hours or days. I mentioned how my first husband would blame me for our problems, and tell me I was weird, that all his previous girlfriends had liked doing this perverse act or that. Wish I'd known about those girlfriends before I married him.
In just the year of time I covered in my reading, he had locked me out of the house twice, kicked a hole in the wall, thrown a sack of flour at me while I sat at our new computer, torn the latch off the wall,because I locked the screen door so I could leave the main door open for the breeze and didn't get to the door to let him in in time. He didn't feel that he should have to ring the door bell or knock to be let in his own house. He didn't like it when I retorted that he had locked me out two days earlier and I lived here too. There was a reference to his girlfriend, Samantha,, that at the time he had denied having an affair with (only to admit to it 6 years later after I left him), and threats to go meet up with his other girlfriends if I didn't get my act together (he said it in not so nice words though). That's not the worst of it, but I'll spare you the details.
When I re-read my journal entries, it is hard not to want to beat myself up emotionally for staying through such emotional abuse. I am so grateful for my sweet husband who builds me up continually. This morning, as I looked in the mirror, first thing out of bed, I commented on the leftover mascara under my eyes, and my funky hair in the words, "Man, I look hashed this morning." Trent told me not to say that about myself. That I was so incredibly beautiful and I should never forget it.
What a stark contrast from the name calling I received daily with my first husband.
My ex does deserve some points. He did say, repeatedly in a letter I saved, that it was probably his fault that things were bad between us and that he wasn't blaming me. He said that some day I would realize it and leave him. I was a glutton for punishment I guess, because it took me 7 years to do it.
I marvel how things change given the amount of experience one has. My realm of experience was so limited then, I couldn't imagine life without Horace (I do believe that is how I've referred to him in the past). I loved him so much it hurt to think of life without him, even minus his drinking and smoking, swearing, and cheating, and damage to our belongings, including me. Now, I find it hard to remember why I stayed. If I hadn't stayed as long as I did, I wouldn't be with my sweety pie now. I wouldn't have had my two oldest kids. I wouldn't appreciate what I now have in my current marriage, and I wouldn't be the strong, independent, successful, self-assured woman I am today - even if I do think I look a bit hashed in the mornings! So - maybe my heart is a bit calloused because of my first relationship and I'm having a hard time getting to the sweet, juicy tidbits of reasons for loving my first husband, but I'm better for it.
PS - That doesn't mean I would wish my experiences on anyone else to teach them what I learned the hard way. Learn from my mistakes! Don't repeat them!
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