Veneers

I read an article tonight on suicide (No. I'm not suicidal. It was related to a student's paper. And besides, after reading the article, you may not be suicidal either - ever. O_o...) One of the things the author discusses is that suicide is considered murder, and therefore a sin, not because of self-inflicted harm, but due to the harm caused to the person's family and friends. Most importantly, suicide only hurts the people who care about you. The people who don't care, won't give a fuck if you are dead or not. 

Last night was a night of trying to decide how much of a fuck I give.

It was a night of honesty, long over due. A time where I stopped being scared of "what might be" long enough to face reality. I gave my wedding rings back to my husband. It was a moment of rashness, but I don't think I could have stopped wearing them, and I wouldn't have known what to do with them. They meant so much to me. My marriage meant so much to me.

I also realized I was really the only person who was married.

Ever since I was old enough to really think, I wanted to be a wife and mother. I wanted to have a partner to share life with. I wanted someone who, no matter what was going on in the outside world, I could be confident because I had someone at home who had my back. I wanted the security that came with knowing someone loved you. I wanted to be married. I wanted a storybook story, with a happy ending.

I ended up with a Ben Fold's song. Except, I don't have any where to fly too, and no one waiting for me when I get there. Ten years of social isolation will do that for you. Panic inducing to say the least.

It was also a night of sweetness, long over due. I hugged my husband for the last time (first time?). I might hug that man again, but last night I said goodbye to my husband. I don't regret it. I got to say goodbye on my terms. I was able to tell him that he was loved, and I wished him well.

He apologized for treating me badly, and I realized I had been waiting for that apology for ten years. I had been waiting for honesty with my husband for ten years. I had been craving **that** hug for ten years.

And I think I am dying today.

I have to violate who I am to give him what he wants. I am old-fashioned enough to think that I am failing him by giving up. I can taste my marriage vows on my tongue tonight, and they taste like ash. I really don't know how I am going to look at myself in the mirror, for the rest of my life, knowing that I broke my promises to him. I have resisted this divorce because it feels like I am betraying him. I have resisted this divorce because, in my heart of hearts, I know it is wrong. I just wanted him to stop treating me badly. I didn't know how to get my needs met, and I acted badly trying to get them met, but I never betrayed him or my marriage vows. Now he is asking me to do just that, and I hate being put in a position where I have to do something I know is wrong - is evil - is violating **me** - is violating my kid, my family, his family, our family, and him. I have to participate in murdering our marriage.

I think that this divorce is hurting the people he is leaving behind, the people who care about him. I don't want any part of that. I don't want to be responsible for hurting him, or anyone else. He said that my wanting our marriage wasn't fair, because it would involve more than me. I can't help but think that a divorce does the same thing - it involves more than him. I understand there isn't a right answer to this. And ultimately, I don't have a choice. I will sign the divorce papers.

I think I might hate him, just a little, for putting me in this position. Everything else, I can handle - even the adultery - this? This feels like he is raping my soul and I have to spread my legs and take it with a smiling veneer of politeness on my face and pretend that I liked it when he is done.