It’s so hard to wrap my brain around what I thought I had in my life – a loving husband, a wonderful home, a good job and a beautiful baby girl. I’m left with my good job, a part-time beautiful baby girl and damage to my heart and soul that will take years to heal. And, so far, there are no consequences to him for his bad behavior (which I’m sure he knew going in to this). He has nothing to lose in this fight so he is fighting to the death with every dirty trick in the book. It hurts, a bone-scorching kind of hurt, to realize that there was NEVER any kind of love there. None. An illusion. A game of charades gone horribly wrong.
I’m moving forward though, in baby steps, at best. We move in to our own place this weekend albeit with no furniture of any kind. I’m praying that my request for some of the furniture is met with receptiveness and a willingness to put on a good show by returning it. Do I sound naive? Unfortunately I believe that I will always be and I have no idea how to curb that. Do I want to curb that? Kill that tiny piece of me that remains the open, carefree, small town girl from middle-of-nowhere, Wyoming? I love that girl and her willingness to love a husband turned monster who she believed was her soulmate. Her one and only. Naivete at it’s finest.
So I will continue on, cleaning up the messes he has so far been gleefully making for me and praying that God’s hand will be evident in all of this. Because, up to this point, I have been unable to explain the madness.