tonepoems
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What is your sexual orientation: Straight
Who in your life has "personality" issues: Romantic partner
Posts: 12
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« on: April 18, 2017, 09:45:30 AM » |
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Let me tell you a little bit about my amazing husband. You see, he was one of the most kind, thoughtful men I ever knew. I’m not just talking “he opens the door for you” thoughtful, but someone who was truly in tune to the needs of others. Not only in his relationships, but even when he worked (which is why in addition to being my husband, was one of the best people I ever worked with.)
As a husband, I felt like I hit the jackpot. Aside from the outward appearances of being smart and cute, I could go on for days on how attentive and kind he was. So many nights he’d rub my feet when I came home tired from work. He loved to talk to me throughout the day while we were at work, yet still always asked me how my day was when I came home. I never felt alone and I always felt loved. He was selfless (even in the bedroom) and I felt like he always looked out for me. The best part was that no one made me laugh like he did. My favorite things about him are his humor, his creativity, and his sarcasm.
We bonded over quips, sometimes we had fun being a little too judgmental of other people together, we shared adventures, learned new things together. We raced cars, jumped out of planes, and took epic vacations.
But even when we weren’t doing exciting things, everything just felt so wonderful. Whether we were just sitting in the same room reading a book, or working on projects side-by-side, I always felt like I had a partner. I fell in love with my husband more and more every day.
I feel like YOU were lurking in the darkness, jealous of our happiness, and just sitting there, slowly formulating your plan and as saw us laugh and kiss throughout the years. Just waiting for your moment to eat away at the man I love so much.
At first, it was the tiniest of things…so small that if you blinked, you would miss it. Perhaps a reaction that seemed over the top, or a burst of anger or jealousy that I couldn’t understand. But it happened so infrequently that I would forget. Or maybe, I thought, I needed to work on being more thoughtful, more sensitive. I started to adapt.
But that wasn’t enough for YOU. YOU had to start picking away even more. Slowly the days where my husband felt depressed happened more frequently and lasted longer. The excitement to try new things started to go away.
Isn’t that how all marriages go? I thought. Surely the excitement can’t last forever. That’s all this is, a little rut, a little bump in the road. After all, all the smiles, the laughter, the “I love yous” were still there every single day.
I see now that’s how YOU work…slowly in the shadows, with brilliant patience, moving ever so slowly without making a sound, waiting for your chance to pounce.
The tragedy is my husband saw YOU coming long before I did, but because of the amazing man he was, he tried to protect me from YOU.
I’d get glimpses of his pain while he was first trying to fight you – little mentions that he screamed on the top of his lungs on his drive home, but it didn’t resonate because I never saw it. Then came the little physical signs, a quick clench of the fist, an angry shudder, a quieter disposition – but those were quickly hidden away every time I noticed and replaced with a smile and more declarations of love if I ever questioned it.
And that STILL wasn’t good enough for YOU. The beers at lunch were no longer about socializing with co-workers, the nightly bourbon was no longer about unwinding after a long day. It became more and more about drowning YOU out, lessening your intensity, maybe keeping you just sleepy enough to give my husband’s mind a few hours of peace.
Little did I realize that was just feeding YOU all along and making YOU stronger. After all, I had no idea what we were about to face, I had no idea the pain in my husband’s head and heart. I simply had no idea. YOU took my blissful ignorance and started driving your ugly wedge, slowly widening the crack in the unit we had become.
It was so slow and so intricate, that if we heard the creak of the opening gap and stood still to listen, you’d stop making a sound and throw in a couple of moments that felt good, just long enough for us to stop listening again. We would shoo away the pesky fly, unaware of the putrid beast they were surrounding.
Which brings us to the beginning of the end. From my perspective, YOU took away the husband that I knew. From his, he was so desperate to get rid of his pain that he started to grasp at anything and everything that might numb his pain or distract him enough or give him hope from sinking in whole.
New cars, new jobs, new cities, more drinking, new people to confide in. Anything that could give him some sense of feeling alive. And YOU, you managed to push me out of the way while you imposed your plan that I suddenly found myself on an island, unable to reach my husband, unable to be heard by anyone as I pleaded that something was wrong. Just like that, my husband couldn’t hear me anymore. He was wrapped up in YOUR dark cloud, deafened by his own thoughts.
I see him start to fight. Instinctively, I try to fight, too. I fight to get my husband back, fight to get my best friend back, fight for my own sanity, fight because I’m angry at not seeing the signs, fight because this is all so wrong.
But it’s all a joke to YOU. YOU see the pain, the will, the strength we both try to put together and YOU laugh. We haven’t seen anything yet.
YOU continue to toy with my husband’s mind, torture him with your thoughts, drive him to drink and drink and drink, and when that’s not enough, to cut, to rage, to punch, and when that’s not enough, to make him feel so desperately lost that he just wants to die. YOU have eaten away at all his joy and his will and his emotions.
Throughout the pain, throughout trying to stay afloat, my husband still tries to protect me, pushing me away from him, pushing me away from YOU, trying to save me from what he may become. YOU turned me into a symbol of failure and of weakness in my husband’s mind. Perhaps I’m blamed a little, too. Why didn’t I see it coming? Why didn’t I question it more? Why didn’t I insist something was wrong? Why didn’t fight back sooner?
YOU exiled me to this island, where I can’t reach my husband, he can’t hear my screams, and I fall to the ground helpless in knowing I can’t even fight. All I can do is watch you devour the man I love.
Now, nothing brings him joy. All he feels is pain. If for a brief moment he finds light and laughter in a distraction, YOU knock him down and punish him so severely that he’s falls to the ground and stays down so he’s forced to crawl.
And I watch and watch and scream and there’s nothing I can do except continue to scream in hopes that a little sound gets through. Anything to give the man I love a little more fight, a little more resolve to stand up to YOU and break YOU.
___ you BPD. While I can’t fight for my husband, I can continue insisting that YOU can’t ___ing have him. He will find a way, I know he will because I know the man that he is and I know he’s strong and full of love and he will win. And I will be there, hoping he hears my cheers and feels my love.
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