I cry out for his love he withdraws. I see him leave often for trips that don't make any sense. He lies about things that don't even matter. I have hope and want our journey to change. It does not. He rushes out the door often. I cry, I yearn, I pine for love, any love.
I worry about what is really happening. Is it me? Am I not lovable? What did I do to cause this? I try therapy with him. To no avail. He lies. Doesn't care. Laughs at my want of common courtesies. No empathy within him.
He pulls my arm. Throws things in my direction when I don't have enough toilet paper in the bath. Rushes at me when the guest room closet is left open. Screams obscenities that feel like darts into my soul when I shop and buy bath bubbles for myself.
Help me. I am falling down, deep, into a dark hole. Who am I. Then a burst of energy rises from my soul. I have to look. What must I do after 15 years? Pretend, just survive, recoil from life's beauty or die? I must walk tall for my kids even though I feel like a glassed over manikin.
I smell the leather as I unzip the bag. God tells me to look inside and accept. Pressed shirts, primped pants, everything looks too perfect. Dear God, hold me as I stare breathless into Hell.
Blog hop # 52 Journey---- This is non-ficton unfortunately about a dear friend of mine.