Home For Christmas

No matter how old I am, there is nothing like the feeling of being at home with my parents. It is 100% my safe zone.  I wanted to run, run, run and in my mind, being back home, I had escaped the matter at hand. Reality, however, would soon follow me when Henry arrived three days later.

It was Thursday evening and Henry was slated to arrive at my parent’s house at 4 a.m. Friday.  Any discussion I have had with Henry, while truthful (for the most part), at this point was to honestly tell him what he wanted to hear.  Was this the best thing to do?  No.  Why did I do this?  I was scared…of him, of us, of the present and the future.  I had given him my power.  It was his way or no way during this time.

I had numerous messaging conversations with Tara about this entire issue and about Henry.  Tara is my sister from another mister.  She knows me like the back of my hand; the good, the bad and the ugly yet through all of that, she still loves me as I love her. When Henry arrived at my parent’s home at 4 in the morning, he greeted the dogs and then was out in the living area for a period of time.

“Wake up.”

“Wake up!”

It was Henry.  He turned the light on as I looked at him in a confused state.  He backs up, takes his wedding ring off and throws it onto the bed toward me.

“I want a divorce.”  He said.

While I knew deep down this is what I ultimately wanted too, his behavior threw me for a loop.

“You left the computer on and I read your messaging conversation with Tara.”  He told me.

“How DARE you bash me like that to her,” he said, “I would NEVER in a million years talk about you that way to ANYONE!”

In truth, I cannot remember this conversation to 100% accuracy.  What I know is that I shared my feelings about Henry to Tara.  Did I mean ill will by it?  No.  I was venting, I was desperate and she was the only person, at the time, I felt I share everything with.  Did I intentionally bash him?  In my mind, no.  In his mind, yes.

I never intended to hurt Henry.  It was now something I felt I was doing over and over again.  I dealt him a crushing blow.  He left, in tears and drove to his parent’s house.  I felt like the worst human being ever to walk the Earth.

It was now 6 a.m.  Crying, I cracked the door to my parent’s room.  They asked me what was going on.

“We’re getting divorced.” I told them.

Merry effing Christmas.

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