
I realized, officially, last night that my marriage is completely over. I suppose I have been holding out hope, subconsciously thinking that maybe I'd start to matter to him again. I won't. I don't.
But, before this realization fully sunk in, I called him.... it was the second time since everything went down that I called him, crying, yelling, begging him to just take notice of me. His eyes have been caught by another though. And, it seems he's finally getting the attention I never gave him. He's finally found someone who is not going to ignore him, turn to another, shut off, or transform into a frigid bitch. He's... replaced me.
I knew it would happen. I told everyone that I hoped he'd find someone he could trust. I said all the right things and smiled at the right times. But then it happened. Then he really did. And, I cried ridiculous amounts of hopeless tears. I made it all day with my boys.... holding those tears in. When we got home, I hid in the bathroom and sobbed. For an hour.
I'm so angry at him. So entirely consumed with anger. When I was there, when I was doing everything just to get his attention, when I NEEDED him, he fucking wasn't there. And, I never was enough. It was only after I fully tuned out that he opened up. And, then... he gave me six days to sort through everything I was feeling. Six days. I gave him my life, you know? I asked for time... I asked for space... I asked for a separation so we could both find ourselves. He gave me six days.
I'll never understand why I wasn't important to him. I'm not sure I'm going to be okay.
Regardless, though, I won't call him again. Not like that. Not with the hopes that he'll actually hear what I'm saying or that he'll actually be interested or give a damn as to what's going on with me.
It's going to be a tough week.
A really tough week.





