Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
I thought this was what I wanted. I was starting to panic about what I had been all I’ll ever have. I thought I wanted more. I was sure that there was something missing in my life, and I thought I had found it with Wendy.
So why do I feel this way? Why have I started feeling unfulfilled and empty inside? Is it the kids? Is that it? Is it the thought of missing their lives that’s making me feel like this? I want so badly to pin down a reason, an explanation for the uneasy feeling that keeps hounding my heels.
Something about the weekend has triggered me only I’m not sure exactly what it is. Is it the fact that my friends and family have gone on with their lives without me, including my ex-wife? Or is it the ease with which my son clung to my best friend? Or maybe it was the way Rachel had ignored my presence while driving back to the home we once shared.
Whatever it is, it has left me feeling a sense of limbo, like my world is off-kilter somehow. Had I already fallen out of love with Wendy? Is that it? Would things be different if my friends and family accepted her? Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m just missing my social life outside of my relationship with her. I’ll have to do something about that and I know just where to start.
RACHEL
I felt nervous after putting out feelers about getting back into the workforce. But it was time. It was only a few months until Kevin started going to school for a few hours each day, and even with the baby, it would free me up some; besides, it was still best to get a head start because who knows how long it’s going to take to actually find something.
One thing I will say, is it helps to be kind to the friends and family of your significant other as long as it’s warranted. I never stood in the way of any of his friendships and was always welcoming; my home was always open, night or day, to any one of them that were in need.
Because my family was halfway across the country, his became mine, and I nurtured those relationships the best I could before and after we got married. Now, those people have been my main source of support, except for my family, who called often and came out to see me twice since the breakup.
Those same people were now on the hunt for a job for me, and I didn’t feel as if I was doing it alone. I have more offers for free babysitting than I know what to do with, but I have yet to take anyone up on them, except for Sunday when I ran away to avoid facing Doug and his side piece.
I don’t know why it was suddenly too much. Maybe it was the injustice of celebrating my baby’s first birthday, knowing that her little world had already been crushed by the selfishness of two grown adults, one of whom was her father, and neither of which cared.
I looked at the videos and pictures of her smiling, happy face, and it broke my heart that I had brought her into a broken world. My poor son was already feeling the strains and showing the signs of what it meant to live in two separate homes.
They’re the reason I choose to remain calm. Not pride, not strength, just knowing that I’m all they have because their father had proven himself to be untrustworthy and weak. My parents are getting up there in age, and so are his, and our siblings have their own lives to lead. So, if nothing else, I need to be strong for my kids.
But sometimes it’s so hard. Sometimes I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for about a month. I want to just turn everything off and sleep away this pain and uncertainty. I want my peace of mind back.
There are moments throughout the day when I actually forget, and then I remember, and the pain is as fresh as the first time. My therapist has been treating me for PTSD, among other things; another thing I didn’t know was a thing.
I have trauma, she says, which I can attest to, but there’s no happy pill I can take to make it all better. I have to endure one day at a time, just like everyone else. I’m trying my hardest not to give in to the darkness that keeps calling out to me.
Some days, I feel as if I would scream without stopping. I want so badly to go into a room and lock the door just so I can scream into the void. But I can’t because I have two little people depending on me, and I refuse to be as selfish as their father.