Not so Valentine’s Day

I’ve tried a bunch of times to write about the events after my ex-husband’s death.  The words just don’t seem to flow to my fingertips.  Instead they just get jumbled up in a whole mess of feelings and emotions that seem to gobble them up before I have a chance to type them up.

Needless to say, I have a lot of unresolved feelings in regards to his death, him, and our relationship.

There is still a lot of guilt and hurt.  So much regret.  I’m sure it is all because of hindsight.

Not only that but my feelings about my ex and our relationship are all muddled and romanticized if you will, due to the fact that I have been so bogged down in the shittiness of my relationship with P.  I thought things were bad with my ex….but compared to how things are with P…In comparison, things with my ex don’t seem as bad now.

The grass is greener.  So they say.

Either way, it’s all still grass.

I don’t remember P really being there once my ex’s death was revealed.  I don’t want to paint P as a total emotional dick during this….I mean, he did tell me it wasn’t my fault.  I believe he let me “grieve”, or gave me the space to do so.  I have to admit, it probably was very awkward for him.  Maybe he just didn’t know what his role was to be?

My family was extremely close to my ex.  It didn’t matter how many times he may have fucked up, my family loved him.  Unconditionally.  He was a son.  A brother.  A grandson.  A friend.  Not only were he and I together for about 14 years, but my family was intertwined in that time span as well.  It hit us all very hard because of how he took his life.  We all saw he was a good person.  He was just lost.  No one knew what to do.

I think P might have been intimidated by all of this.  Afterall, my family wasn’t, and hasn’t been too keen on him.  This too could have factored into P’s distance.

I went out to P’s a few days after I received the news.  I just needed a place to be where I could feel safe.  A place I could just sit and be and feel, yet a place that was familiar…and home.

I needed someone to put their arms around me and tell me they loved me.  I needed someone to just kiss me on the head.  To rub my back.  To draw me a bath and make me dinner.  To just know that I needed some sort of sanctuary from the hurt I was going through.

I needed someone who would have done anything to just take care of me.

I can’t even articulate what it was that I needed.  Comfort.  Unconditional love and support.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t receiving all that from friends and family….I NEEDED it from P.

He was there….but not.  Aloof.

We had made plans to go out to dinner for Valentine’s day, but since the service was to be held on that day, we decided to go the saturday before.

Mind you, this was still 2 days after I found out.  A lot of people were reaching out to me.  Sending their condolences.  Wanting to know what happened.  Details about when the service would be. Checking up on me.

We were walking out the door to go to dinner, when my phone chimed an incoming text.  P got pissy and started getting agitated.  He made a remark something along the lines of “Tell them to fuck off, you’re with me now.”

Not his exact words.  But he was mad that people were texting and calling quite frequently.  He didn’t understand why people were texting me so much.

I was already in a fragile mental state.  I looked down the stairs at him.  I might’ve said something.  He probably said something back, which only agitated and pushed me further.

I took off my coat and went straight into the bathroom.  Grabbing a small pair of scissors, i began to dig into my skin.

Self mutilation had always been an unhealthy coping mechanism for me.  Frustration is a big trigger of mine.  Since I was always frustrated with how P was acting towards me, it seemed I was doing it more and more.

P pushed through the door, saw what I was doing and yelled at me to get the fuck out.  Not out of the bathroom….but to get the fuck out of his life.  He didn’t want to deal with my bullshit.  He told me to get my shit and to get the fuck out.

This enraged me even more.  I was so far emotionally distraught, and here he was exasperating it even more.  I think I threw something at him.  I collected my things and told him that I hoped everyone he loved died.  See how it felt.

There was a huge blanket of snow covering my car, so I had to clean it off.  I couldn’t believe  how P had acted.  I sobbed as i cleared away the layers, my heart breaking beyond anything I had ever felt.  This was the last thing I needed at this particular moment.

P came out with the dog… as though he was just walking her.  I went over to him and told him I didnt want to go.  That I was sorry.  I was a mess.  I needed help.

He probably told me to stop acting like an asshole.  That he was getting tired of putting up with my bullshit.  I was just so emotionally spent I didn’t care.  I would have given anything to just not feel the hurt and heaviness in my heart.  He let me come back in the house.  We went to dinner.  And I stuffed it all back inside me as though nothing….nothing in the world could possibly be wrong.

He offered to go to the funeral….I declined his offer.  I knew that he really didn’t want to be there.  The awkwardness of the situation was far greater than his love and concern.

Valentine’s day 2012, I  had to say goodbye to a man I once shared my life with.   I had to see his family whom I hadn’t seen since I decided to leave.  People with whom I was once so close too, but now there was nothing more than awkward silences between us.

On top of all this, it was I who had to initiate the sentiments of Valentine’s day with P.  It was I who had to check in with him.

I needed him.  I needed him to love me.  To show me he did.  That he had my back in all this.  Regardless of the circumstances or who it involved.  Had the tables been turned, I would have offered my unconditional love and support.  I would have done anything to help ease his sadness….all for the simple fact that his pain, his sadness, pains me.  Not in an annoying way.  Not in a way that is cumbersome to me….but in that way that comes with loving someone.  Unconditionally.  Empathetic.

Sadly, looking back now….I’m not sure he is capable of empathy.

~ by spanglebaby52 on December 17, 2013.

2 Responses to “Not so Valentine’s Day”

  1. What can one say… but virtual hugs. It’s only up from here. xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: