Some days it's all too much.
I woke up ready to tackle the day... and then got stuck waiting for my friend - who was sleeping in. That's all good and fine, and I didn't ask her husband if she was up and getting ready or sleeping in.. so that's my fault. But I wasted a lot of time this morning waiting. That's fine. Once she was up and ready, she went with me back to the house, my house, our house and helped me pack and organize some things there. I could only handle being there for 2 hours. I was in the craft room/guest room, which is where he has been sleeping for months now. Early on, I would get into the bed after he left for work and I would inhale the lingering scent of him. It smelled different then but it was still him. His body had laid there. So being in the room with the bed... I couldn't take much of it. I did the bare minimum and then we left. I did throw out 3 bags of trash, gave a bag of craft supplies to a neighbor, and gave my friend 2 sets of sheets (We had 7 sets, so I'm sure I'll get by just fine with the remaining 5 sets.. I'll probably purge down to 4 still.... I don't want to have so much stuff that I don't have room and I'm just moving stuff for the sake of having stuff... We shall see). She did organize my jewelry which was nice, When we moved from Japan to D.C. he did it for me, I hate that kind of stuff. I need to purge through the necklaces and earrings.. I want to go so minimalistic that I have an easier streamlined life. But for now, the jewelry is packed.
I then met a couple who's looking for a sitter for their baby in a couple of weeks. They just moved here from Germany. They seemed nice, young, and their boy is cute. So that'll be some easy money in a couple of weeks.
I came back to the house (where I'm staying/living, not our house) around 8pm. I came down to my room and debated going to bed. But I have had this sinking feeling in my stomach for hours now. (it's 11:40pm now). It won't go away. It's this horrible empty feeling. Like I'm missing something. someone.
I was telling my friend (who helped me this morning, I'm also staying at her house for the month of July) that I look at pictures of my husband and I and I'm not sure if I should keep them because *I* was there (in Tokyo, in Hawaii, on various vacations) or if they'll just create sadness in years to come. I really thought he was the love of my life. But in reality, he was just a big liar and the man in those pictures, the man I've been falling in love with over the past (almost) 6 years, just doesn't exist. But it's not that I made him out to be greater than he was. He had everyone fooled. Everyone thought we were so happy and good for each other. Everyone has been as dumbfounded by all of this as me. Only they don't have the heartache that goes with it.
I haven't cried in about a week. Probably the longest I have gone without crying in the past 4 months. When this all first surfaced, "this nonsense" is what I call it because it IS nonsensical! Anyway, when this all first started, I cried ALL THE TIME. I wasn't sleeping or eating. I was barely functioning.
I miss him. It's not fair. Even if he's just living in some sort of perceived self-happiness, he still shouldn't be there. with her. There isn't a single thing about this that's right. Or good. And I hate that even in all the missing, and feeling like a part of me is missing, like someone is trying to rip my arm off.. the pain that comes with it; there is also healing.
I'm trying to make some semblance of a life from this madness; but it hit me this evening as I was looking at apartments, that he created all of this mess. I mean I knew that, I've been telling people that for months, "He created all of this mess and I just have to try and clean it up as best as I can for myself." But HE DID THIS. I didn't have any part of this. I didn't want any part of this.
I tried to steer us away from this, to protect our broken marriage.
Tried to still do good for him, for us.
Tried to go to counseling, tried to work on myself,
Tried to be a better communicator,
Tried to make him happy,
Tried to make myself available for him,
Tried to be interested in his hobbies,
and I failed. I shouldn't say that.
I WORKED.
I tried.
I was willing to put the work in. I was willing to put in 20000000000%.
He just stopped.
He stopped caring,
stopped wanting anything to do with me, us, our life, our plans.
He stopped loving me (although sometimes I wonder if he's so angry now because he DOES still love me and he does realize that it wasn't me.. although maybe that's just what I want him to think/feel).
He failed me.
He failed us.
He quit.
It wasn't me.
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