Yesterday was a really rough day.
I came home. And much like a spaceship reentering Earth’s atmosphere, I felt like everything was on fire.
Oh, and my skin was peeled off my body.
I walked into my house to find Mr. Wonderful everywhere. I knew it would be bad, but I wasn’t prepared for how truly awful it would be.
Two photos on my nightstand. His clothes, both in a pile on the floor and in a drawer in my dresser. The valentines I gave him still in that dresser drawer. All of his toiletries still in the bathroom. A photo of the two of us on my fridge. Cards he gave me. A drawing his daughter The Ladybug made for me, complete with her careful spelling of a nickname no one will call me ever again. Stickers I bought for The Ladybug, and a children’s magazine I saved for her because it was called Ladybug. A case of Mr. Wonderful’s pop. His shoes. A pile of his hair where I trimmed his ‘do in the basement. The sense that he will be home any moment … and the bitter knowledge that no, he’s not coming back.
I can’t stop crying. And not pretty crying – crying where you suck in air in freakish gasps and then sob almost like an animal.
I am hurt so deeply. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with – who treated me poorly but in whom I still see the kind, loving man I fell in love with – has told me that he doesn’t want to be with me. But he wants to be friends because I’m so awesome. I’m so awesome that he doesn’t want to deal with my shit. But he wants to hang out.
And the lovely little girl that I loved? She probably won’t remember me. She won’t ever know that there was a woman who cared about her so deeply, and who was nervous but excited about becoming her stepmom. And maybe someday I’ll see her and recognize her, and she won’t give me a second glance.
So Mr. Wonderful, this is why I put all of your stuff in my shed and asked you to come get it at your earliest convenience. It’s a meager attempt at self preservation. And if you really love me as much as you say you do, you’ll understand.
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6 comments:
You poor dear. I'm so sorry. Please stop calling him Mr. Wonderful he should be called Mr. Made a Huge Mistake.
Linda
Or Mr. Jerkwad.
Ladybug will remember you--your kindness and your love towards her. No worries there. She's probably feeling just as woeful.
I think you should just torch the pile, but that's why I think you're a better person than me. You didn't and you are ending things with dignity. That says so much about your character.
Take care.
Agreed. He's no Mr. Wonderful. He's more Mr. Wonderfully-f*d-up. (Sorry for the language.) Come back to work and we'll give you some support!
Hell to the no on hanging out.
you poor poor thing! I'm with Linda. and everyone else.
i'm so sorry you are hurting! take care of yourself girl, we all want to come over and take care of you....
"I can’t stop crying. And not pretty crying – crying where you suck in air in freakish gasps and then sob almost like an animal."
That describes me during the worst breakup I ever had. I never knew that heart break was something you physically felt. That kind of crying was so healing for me. I cried that way for weeks, until one day, there just weren't any tears left. And then it started to get better, as I know it will for you.
You may miss the Mr. W you fell in love with, but I bet you won't miss how poorly he treated you!
May God comfort you in your sadness. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." ~Matthew 5
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