Wednesday, May 2, 2012

In the Beginning

I have been married for just shy of 11 months. It has been the worst year of my life. Rarely does a day pass where I don't think I would have a more full life with my three children on my own. I never thought being alone was a bad thing, I've never been afraid of being alone. I just thought my life with my husband would be richer and that he possessed all of the things I do not, thereby balancing my faults.

The first year we spent together was amazing. I never fully fell in love with him, but I loved being with him. I find his physical presence calming and I like the person I was becoming with him. When things started truly getting serious, I had to make a decision. Of course I was already aware of his faults but everyone has faults, especially me. I made a decision that all of the places I messed up before were places I wouldn't go if I had him in my life. My life with him would be a happy one.

I made a decision to love him.

We got engaged after dating for two years. I moved in with him for a year after we got engaged and it started going to shit. 

Much to my detriment, I am nothing if not adaptable. So I gave him credit after credit for the big changes that occurred in his life after finding a new house with a woman and her three children. Naturally, it would be a difficult situation. I still had my children at the end of every day to balance me out. He had nothing.

So I ignored the read flags, opted on the side of stability for myself and my children and married the douchebag one year later.

Four years.  That's how long we've been together now. The last two are erasing all traces of the relationship that made me decide to love him.

I told myself at the beginning of this year that I would start this blog so I could keep better track of my ups and downs and hopefully use the trends to create better communication. But I have the most flexible personality of anyone you'll ever meet and I always calm down about things by the time I would sit down and write them.

Now, I've come to the conclusion that I must write this. My sole intent in life is to get myself to a financially secure place where I can leave him. I want to make him hurt the way he's made me hurt and I don't have a vindictive bone in my body. Yet, that's where I'm at.

And it's certainly not a healthy home.