Dirty Messy Love

Our fifteen year anniversary was six months ago. I think maybe we went out to dinner. It’s been, such a long road… unpaved, unlit, massive pot holes, people darting out in front of us at night in the dark. A long, rough road.

So much has been said. Too much. So much has gone unsaid. Too much. I could’ve kept living half alive, quiet, as long as my daughters were safe, and doing okay. But once they got dragged into the fighting, screaming, yelling, blaming, there was nothing else that could be done.

It was over.

My 15yr old doesn’t even talk to me now. It’s world crushing. Every day there’s no response my heart shatters. Her friends ignored her on the first day of school and I was torn to pieces not being able to help comfort her through that. She’s doing better now. She has a boyfriend and she seems to be okay. That helps, but I’m missing out on a lifetime. She’s only a kid for a couple blinks, and then she’s gone. I’ll never get this time back. All I can do is love her. Text her how much I love her, occasional funny things, inspirational things… I can’t force her to respond, make her forgive me. I can only stay the course.

It was so volatile at the end. She’d throw my dresser drawers on the porch. Scream and yell obscenities and her own skewed truths right in front of the girls. Made me die inside.

“YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON ME!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs one night while the girls lay awake in their beds. Right? At least I think he did. A girl slept in his bed! Twice! That’s cheating right?? Well, as long as I think so then it is. It’s definitely crossing a line for damn sure… does it matter if our marriage was already broken? No! I mean, maybe? I dunno.

I owned up to my mistakes. I know I was an absent mother and wife for a year and a half. I was drunk and gone for 18 months. My kids wondered where I was and my husband worked and took care of them.

I finally snapped out of it. I asked him if I ruined our marriage. He said noooo. He assured me everything was fiiiine. I set out to make amends! Then his work sent him away for a year. Everything was good. I took care of the kids like a pro and our love was stronger than ever… right?

Fuck no! It was 100% over! I couldn’t tell her that right before I left her alone with my kids for a year! I needed her happy and healthy. I needed my babies to be okay.

It was an impossible choice that I made and I don’t think I’d change it.

I admit, the other decision to live my life fully while I was gone was a selfish one. I made as many friends as I could, I talked to everyone. It was amazing. My neighbors, my co-workers, bartenders, patrons, everyone! I cooked food, I sold food, collaborated with a chef and a DJ… I had the time of my life.

Yes, a girl slept in my bed, twice. Unfortunately, nothing happened. She just wanted to be friends. #friendzone

But I danced, I wooed, I charmed, I drank, I ate, I lived. I met my best friend / soulmate, Adrian. We did everything together. He showed me the ways. We bonded over our failed, miserable, inescapable marriages. He taught me some Spanish! He even cried a few times our last night out on the town together. The sun rose over the harbor lighting up the pristine water and empty tethered boats before he sent me off in a taxi to the airport. It was real. We still talk every day four years later.

I came home and she was doing better. I figured I could give us another chance. But that didn’t last long. The alcohol came back, cops showed up at my door once for her hitting a parked car, falling down drunk multiple times a week including holidays with friends and family… and how did I deal with it? I’d clean it up, and then I’d text someone. I’d text an old female friend to just talk. Or I’d look at girls on tinder for the fun of it, maybe even message em just to start a conversation (never worked). The right thing? Admirable? Of course not! Condonable? No. Understandable? Maybe? I dunno. But it’s how I dealt. It’s how I stayed.

She got better! She got on meds. But I had been done for far too long to care. 14 years. And I was getting worse. I sent $10 to a random cute chic on TikTok for nothing cuz I never did that before and I wanted to. Terrible! Or just dumb. Or both.

So naturally, as always, light had been shed on the darkness. She woke me up one morning by asking me abruptly, “what is Adrian’s wife gonna tell me about you?” I woke up, scared, anxious, defeated. I laid it all out for her. I told her everything I’ve wanted to get out for years. Thus started World War 3. For me it was 3 years ago. For her it was just now. And every tiny thing that I didn’t even care to remember or purposely hid was uncovered.

A whole year of the most awful, anxious, tumultuous time in our lives.

“YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON ME!!!”

My world cracked. And my babies fell through.

Rings through my ears, piercing my chest still now after a year. The kids didn’t need this. They don’t deserve this turmoil. And now it’s all on me to make it right. I work every day on this impossible task. It’ll pay off, some day.

She still claims she wanted to work it out and not “give up.” But all that fighting was toxic for the kids. I had to stop it.

He’s the love of my life. I just wasn’t his. He stayed for fifteen years in misery just to make a “happy family.” Just to protect our baby girls. I tell him how hard that must’ve been, how lonely. And how commendable it was to even attempt it. His father daughter dances were a treasure to behold. Their birthdays, even my birthdays were always spectacular. He did his best. I’m just so mad at it all and I can’t let it go…