Each day that passed the pain lessened, but the memories just don't fade. They're kept fresh in my mind and because of that absolutely nothing that my husband does helps alleviate this burden. He's accepted what he's done and he's appologized until he anus bled, mostly because I tend to fuck you in the ass until you give me what I need. Why does it take so much? Who knows.
Since that day I've done everything and anything to get over it. Just put it behind me and move on. I'm trying something that I've never really been able to do before. Stop talking about it. To him that is. I've said what I need to say, and he's accepted it and taken everything I've dished out. I have nothing more in me. There's nothing more I can say.
The last time we went over the subject must have been the weekend before last. I didn't write about this last incident because I was too ashamed. Both of myself and my husband. That there's something wrong with us is no question.
Because of the massive meltdown at my sisters house I've had to touch on the subject time and again to get everything out on the table, let him know that we as a couple aren't out of hot water and unburden myself of all this resentment. It's all I know to do. I've talked about it with friends and my mother, but really the only person I can resolve this with is Rigid. I still haven't talked to my sister and I know that when I'm ready to do that I'll feel better, but at the moment I just can't bring myself to look at her let alone pick up the phone. To tell the truth it's not even because I'm angry at her. I'm ashamed. About everything. There's nothing I can do to make what I did go away for her and there's nothing I can do to erase the actions of that night.
Thursday before last it all hit me again. I had showered and began to cry with rage and humiliation. When I'd calmed down I got out and toweled myself off, got dressed and prepared myself for another heated discussion. We talked about everything under the sun. From why he refuses to take me to the cinema to see a movie that I want to watch, such as a girl movie, to why I'm still unable to move on. Saturday rolled by and Rigid was home early from work. I decided we should relax a little at the cinema and thought we could watch either Harry Potter or The Bourn Ultimatum. I swear on all that is ghastly and evil that I was going to do rock paper scissors so we could avoid an argument.
Rigid checked the showtimes. We were both excited to be going as we hadn't been in so long. I really wanted to watch both movies, but he knew that if I had the choice I would watch Harry Potter over Bourn. When he checked the times the Bourn Ultimatum was showing at 5pm and Harry Potter at 7pm. It was 4:25pm, the choice was obvious. One tiny problem. Knowing that I wanted to watch Harry Potter so badly I could feel my insides turning inside out Rigid made one fatal mistake. He didn't have the consideration of checking any other local theaters for a better showtime. He closed down the windows as fast as he could and walked away from the computer wagging his tail because he was going to watch the movie he wanted to watch. I sat there looking at him incredulously and asked him why he didn't check other theaters.
"Fuck that, I fucking hate Harry Potter anyway. You know I don't want to see that movie. I don't give a shit about that Harry Potter cunt." Well, that's what I heard. Probably not exactly what was said, but if you could just hear, see, watch in slow motion as the shit goes hurdeling towards the fun you would die of laughter. My brain slowly started to fry. I almost didn't even know why the hell I was so angry, but It happened and there was nothing I could do about it. But I'm trying. I'm fucking trying to god damned hard it's not even funny. How I managed not to throw every object in the room at his head I'll never know. I just got in the car and got ready to go. After a few choice words of course.
As we drove to the theater the anger swelled in my chest and burned my cheeks red hot. They were coming and there was nothing I could do. Giant fat wet tears rolled down my face and I wept. I wept because my husband can be such a fucking dickhead. There's no better word for it than that. The worst thing you can do is ask me something stupid when I'm crying after an argument. You've heard the saying before. There's no such thing as a stupid question. Oh my FUCK are they wrong! There is such a thing, I know, my husband's full of stupid questions. Why am I fucking crying. You who are sitting there reading this. YOU who don't know me. YOU can fucking tell me why I'm crying, but my husband who was right there in the thick of it...nope...can't wrap his head around it. So, what does a clueless man do in such a case? Ask incessantly over and over again why you're crying and tell you that if it was going to be such a big deal you would have taken them to see the movie they wanted to see in the first place because it's not really that big a fucking deal to be crying over it like a baby.
FUCKING WOW...say it with me. WOW! Of course I'm not speaking at this point. I'm just choking on my tears trying not to vomit on his lap. I can do this on command you know. I cry and cry wanting to rip every curly lock of his head, but managing to keep my hands to myself. The control, the resillience...absolutely unremarkable. Since he was getting nothing out of me he decided to take the initiative and head to the grocery store instead. Something we'd spoken about earlier when deciding to go to the cinema. Grocery's first or a movie? Movie...great.
So as we head over to the left instead of the right my chest contricts even more. What the fuck makes you think I'm in the mood to go shopping? I'm even more enraged than I was before. His stupidity is absolutely astounding, but there we go. We finally park and I eventually gain some measure of control. He decides he should get out of the car and I believe I managed to get something out at that point. "I'm not getting the fuck out of this car. What the hell makes you think I'm in the mood to go shopping right now? What's wrong with you???"
"Well, you're not telling me what's wrong Maharet. If I had known you wanted to go to see that movie that badly I would have done that instead. It's not anything to be getting like that over." he said. Can you just see the brilliance? Isn't it palpable?
We argued in the car. I wasn't going to give him a clue at what point he lost me though and that just confused and infuriated him. What do I need to do? Write a book so he understands? Eventually he got the idea, after about 15-20 minutes, that we should just go home. I didn't want to go grocery shopping or watch a movie. I just wanted to lie down. Instead we continued our discussion at home.
I eventually gave in and let him know exactly at what point he hurt my feelings and why. I gave him every little detail. You end up gettin so tired of being "the bitch" all the time. When all you ask is not to be taken for granted. How many movies have I gone to watch that I've not wanted to watch? And why is it that he has no idea? Because I never complain. There's no point. Why would I sit there and rub it in his face? I can just see it now, 'I hope you don't think that I want to watch that movie. You do understand that I have no interest in watching a testosterone driven film today, tomorrow or any day with you because you bore me and so does your brainless mainstream movie choice.' (Like Harry Potter insn't main stream. HAH!)
The point is that eventually because I was able to finally express myself properly I was able to help him understand. It was difficult for him as most things are, but we got there in the end. And in the end we did go see Harry Potter and it was fabulous. I love the books and I love to see the authors work come to life in those movies. Fuck it if no one looks like they're in secondary school. I don't care. IT'S A FANTASY FILM!
Before we went to the movies I did say a lot of awful things. True things, but awful all the same. "Our relationship is hanging by a thread.", "You have to understand that we're not okay and will probably never be.", and my favorite, "If you ever put your hands on me or push me to the point where I put my hands on you it's over, I promise you that. "
He told me he understands completely and will do everthing possible not to make those mistakes again. You see, every argument that we have seems to end up there. I end up back where I was a month ago. Filled with anger, despair and humiliation...abandoned all over again.
I'm trying though. By god I'm trying and by the end of the converstaion we were ready to put it all behind us and enjoy our time together, for you never know how long it'll last.
The movie was great and even he enjoyed it. As we were leaving the theater we were greated by all the sounds and smells at the courtyard. The air was filled with the aroma of great tasting food. Ofcourse we know better. It smells like great tasting food, but it usually tastes like crap. So we decided to grab something on the way home, we'd actually decided this well ahead of time. movies first, food later. Rigid took one look at his watch. 9:30 pm. Oh my, it's late. "Fuck I didn't realize how LATE it is. Well, let's just get you something to eat and I'll go home, take a shower and go to bed. I have to get up at 4am tomorrow." As if I had no clue.
I was filled instantly with fury. Maybe I was wrong to be so angry, but did he have to do that right then and there? He INHALES his food in 10 minutes. I take two fucking bites, LITERALLY, of my food and he's completely done. I have sat there eating dinner and, I swear to god, start cutting my steak, put a bite in my mouth and he's halfway done with his food. How the hell is he going to tell me that he now has no time to eat? He hadn't eaten all day long. I KNEW he was starving because he kept interrupting the film to remind me. I asked him to pick out a place to eat, he did and we were ready to go there. He picked that moment to shove the fact that he SACRIFICED his day JUST so I could watch the movie of my choice so far up my ass it tickled my throat. I WAS FUCKING PISSED!!!!
I clamped my trap shut before I said something I'd regret and slapped my feet on the pavement as I hauled ass to the car. My fat ass must have looked like I was speed walking to the parking lot. It was his turn to be justifiably pissed off. Now I was the asshole for getting angry over absolutely nothing and I was wrong. I had to accept that fact that I was wrong and he was right. That there was nothing wrong with anything he did. He didn't do anytihing to upset me on purpose and I WAS WRONG. I quietly disagreed and asked that he just take me home. "It's FINE, if you don't want to eat because you have no time, then just take me home. Why would I want to eat alone?" I said.
"No Maharet! I'm not going to have you go hungry just because I have to get up so early in the morning. If I had realized what time we'd be getting out of the movies I would have eaten earlier." he explained. Right, because we weren't spending two fucking hours talking about why he pissed me off in the first place.
Well, I wouldn't have it. I had every right to be upset. Guess what? He wouldn't have it either. To say we butted heads...no. We didn't butt heads, nothing as simple as that. We collided head on with the blunt force of an asteroid slamming the moon from every single fucking angle you could think of. Shit...I think we created another galaxy because by the time we made it to a side street by the house we were full on screaming at each other at the tops of our lungs. My problem is that I will not be outdone. I'd lost my mind. I can't have anyone tell me that I can't get upset about something. That I have no right to be upset. It's not like I can just stop myself from getting angry. You simply have to let it pass. I'm not unreasonable. If you give me a moment to compose myself and I'm wrong I have no problem admitting it and appologizing imemediately. But with both of us feeling justified we simply weren't getting anywhere and I just...My brain was melted.
I slammed my fist on the passengerside dashboard and he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Have you ever seen a train crash? I was fucking derailed. I felt a tinsy squeeze and I fucking lost my mind. I screamed and screamed, "Don't touch me, don't fucking touch me!" Like a maniac on crack, slipped my hand quickly away as I took his hand in mine, slammed my forearm up against his tricep and used my weight and position to lock his arm up. He was driving with his other hand and I yanked him even more off balance and held his arm in place until it cracked. Just as I felt the urge to go further than I really needed to I released him and screamed not to touch me or I'll hurt him. I can't remember what he said, but again...Out of my mind so I slammed my fist on the dashboard, ripped the wooden rosary off the rearview mirror and slapped the mirror off the windshield.
Just then the strangest thing happened. The devil suddenly screamed in my ear, "DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE? DO YOU WANT TO DIE??????" The peculiar thing was that the devil had an English accent. I never looked at this horrible creature. I never gave it a second glance. Unfortunately, for reasons unbenownst to me I tend to react to fright. Rather quickly in fact. I smacked Rigid In the face with a closed fist so fast I shocked myself and by the look of his face, after I'd smacked him and turned to look at him, he was equally as shocked.
"That's it, it's over. You hit me. We're through. You said it yourself. If you hit me again we're over. Remember? You said it, now that's what's going to happen." he said as he steered the car away from the parked truck he was deliberately heading towards on the wrong side of the road. I instantly regretted what I did. I felt goaded into it, but I regretted it. It's inexcusable. Inexcusable as it may be I knew it wasn't a reason to end the relationship. We were both fucking dead wrong. He threatened my life in a moving vehicle while on the wrong side of the road yet my love burned stong for him. Close your mouth. It's not becoming. I said it alright. I realized what I had. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye I realized why I love this man and I wasn't about to let him go.
Less than a minute later we were screeching to a halt in front of my apartment. He was walking out of my life forever. When he's determined to do something there's no stopping him, but I stopped him. I wouldn't let him out of the house. He had to get inside to return something back to his boss before he came back home to pack his bags for the last time.
I begged him to think about what he was doing. To think about why I acted out and why I struck him. He couldn't. He was stuck. I blocked his exit from the bedroom and slammed my back into the door knob. It stung like a mother fucker but I didn't let him past. I made him sit down. I begged him to reconsider and pleaded that he not leave me. I repeated what he did and what he said over and over again and it finally struck a cord. Then he began to immediately beat himself up calling himself a piece of shit. Saying that I didn't deserve what he did to me and that I should be with someone else. That I would be better off. After everything that he'd put me through he still thought that he was worth it, that we were worth it, but now it was over. He didn't understand why he does the things he does or why he pushes things so far and he just didn't want to do that to me anymore. He could see it was killing me and he didn't want to be responsible for torchuring me this way anymore.
I didn't let him go. I couldn't. After everything we'd been through, everything we've overcome I coudln't let this get in the way. We were both wrong. Both of us. Be it that we were hungry, tired, stressed....constipated, I don't care. We were wrong, but we love each other. Suddnely I realized the depsperate need we had to put the past behind us and move forward.
In the end everything fades. The bruises on my hands are fading. The shame I felt is fading. The anger is fading. The pain in my knuckles and joints is fading. All those things, those horrible memories they're slowly fading away while our love and understanding grows stronger with each passing day.
In the end we all fade away, but this putrid world we live in keeps on spinning. Your world is what you make of it. Change is up to you. Improvement is up to you. No one can help you be a better person. Not a soul.
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