I was happy. Finally happy in what I did, who I was with, how much I was making, and where I was spending my time. And then September came. My husband stopped talking to me as much, not something new. So it was easy for me not to notice when he shut down completely. As it stood I barely saw him anyway, with my budding career, his ongoing love affair with his business, and kids, who would notice an extended quiet treatment? I didn't. Just like I didn't notice his happiness that I thought came from us, our family. It didn't. I now know it came from a woman he had met through a business acquaintances at Afropunk, the weekend of my show. The show he was not to busy to help me prepare to put on, but was too busy to come see. The show he later told me was a waste of money because it didn't do as well as I'd hoped it would. Meanwhile in Brooklyn, he was taking in the sounds of some of my favorite musicians while also meeting a new woman. Someone who at 24, has her whole life figured out and is well on her way to being a somebody. Unlike his wife who is well on her way to whogivesafuck. They've been talking ever since. They speak every night, every day have lunch together. She's met my kids 4 times. He has taken them on 4 dates together. From the moment he met her, his best friend and business partner has been encouraging him to audition her for his new wife. And he has. He has lied raking the day to spend with her. lying about being at work when he's really with her. Laughing at me with his friend. Fucking me because I'm his wife and I want it but telling her that nothing is going on between us. And when I tell her the truth, he tells her I'm lying. And she believes it. It almost makes me wish I had a disease to give to his lying ass, just so she could catch something from me and know that I'm not lying. I just love him and want him. And if he's going to kiss me and our kids with her pussy on his breath, the least he could do is be honest about it. Do me a favor and file the divorce, stop sleeping with me, stop telling me how I deserve better because if I did why didn't he give it to me? Why marry someone just to divorce them? Why put me through nights and nights of endless scrutiny just to leave me. His friends hype him up, making him believe he is so right in everything. As of I've never been a good woman for or to him. They like to believe they know everything. Because he's so fucking honest. That he is always right. That I am some type of villain that just happened to have his babies. They, like him, know very little of how I feel. Like how any time I have cried he's told me to shut the fuck up. Not hold me, not comfort me. Just tell me to shut the fuck up. Like how I begged and begged and begged time and again for him to invest some time in us, in his family: but he was always too busy. It how for over a year I worked two jobs so he could stay home build his businesses and his health but can he stand by me the same way?
What's really funny is that I don't want a divorce. I don't even care whether he had a girlfriend. I just wanted honesty. I just wanted time with my husband. But things are funny, I spend years taking care if him and coincidently when he is healthy he finds a girl that's younger to develop with. Suddenly now that he has money of his own, he's got time for everyone but the wife who worked her ass off for him and our family. Six women before her and now her. All together he's been cheating for a year and a half, I was just too stupid to know it. I'm even stupider to still love and want him. To still hope for a family with him because i didn't plan on raising our kids with anyone else. I'm so stupid that I've already tried to kill myself because I couldn't stand the thought of not being with him and stupider still because I still can see a future without him in it. Stupid because I'd rather die then be without him. Stupid because I allowed him to takeeverything from me and still want to give him the remnants I have left. For that I can't really blame him, it's not his fault i'm this stupid. I was never taught that its ok to love myself. It took his hands being wrapped around my neck for me to begin to even learn how to do that. But I abandoned it in the hope of a family with the person I love. I cheated and lied and hoped we had moved on when he said her forgave me but I was wrong and still I clung to him hoping for love. We sat up night after night never making any sense and sometimes making progress but I did it every night because it was for the faith I had our love.
And now my kids confuse mommy with Ollyssa, they want her to have his next baby and say shit like this to me daily. Yet I am not supposed to be mad at her. Because I can't be mad at him because I love him too much. And everything I have done has never been enough. I recently dislocated my knee and spent the day is overwhelming pain while still doing mommy stuff. The plan was to go to the hospital that night. Instead I went to the hospital. Alone. I sat being harassed by a crazy man, alone. Went through horrendous pain of a needle in my kneecap alone. Yet there he was popping in at 3am to see how I was and I couldn't be more elated in my morphine haze because for just that moment, he seemed to care. He seemed to care. The very next morning I was back to not existing because I talk too damn much when I pointed out the suspiciousness of his grandmothers hospitality considering I know she hates me. Just the night before she couldn't wait for me to leave her house, knowing I had no place to go, yet suddenly she welcomes me with open arms because I'm injured? Come on. But as always I'm to blame in this scenario and don't exist for the remainder of the day. I've been so lonely for so long. So alone for so long, I can't even say. Yet I still lied just to see if he'd believe it. Telling him i had slept with someone I hadn't been with for a year. And he ate it up. That's when I knew, he had completely stopped paying any attention at all.
There is no point to this post. I'm just a lonely, bitter, broken girl who never knew how to love herself. So how could I love anyone else? And why should anyone else love me? When I'm dead and gone I guess I'll know the reason for all of this pain. My father says faith through the had time will bring me an unforeseen reward. My question is, when will my hard time end? And what could possibly be my reward? losing my family? losing what was left of my heart? losing myself? no thanks, i'd rather lose my life. i'm already my husbands side chick/charity case. Every time I think things are getting better, they're really getting worse. I'm just the butt of a never ending joke. Like cosmic quicksand.
Now that I know how to be successful at death, why cry anymore? Why shouldn't I just kill myself?
