Friday, February 29, 2008
I don’t even know how to start this and that’s because nobody but me is going to see it. I guess I don’t want to put it–what I’m feeling–in writing because then it solidifies what I feel is happening.
I really do believe my marriage is over. I do.
I honestly thought Mario and I had beat the odds; that we were “that” teenage couple that actually stayed together for the rest of our lives. That’s what I always thought, from the moment I met him.
God, here I go with the fucking crying. I can’t stand that shit. Why can’t I be like him? Why can’t I just NOT care about anything? About my family? I don’t meant that. I’d always care about my kids. I just wish I didn’t have to care about him. Then it wouldn’t hurt as much knowing that the rollercoaster ride’s over and that it’s finally coming to a stop.
After 11 years. I can’t believe this.
Back when we first got together it always felt like it was over because he was such a dick, but I had that hope deep in my adolescent, naive heart that things would work out.
Our first year of marriage it felt like it was over because he was still a dick and I was so needy from the two years before of being with him, but I always knew it would work out because we were new at the whole marriage thing and everyone said the first year was the hardest.
Our fourth year of marriage it felt like it was over because after I had Jaylen he was awful to me all over again. I’m still not sure if he resented me for having a kid, or getting fat, or getting flabby after giving birth, or heck, if he was fucking someone else. But I knew it would get better because I honestly believed that God had us meet for a reason.
Hm. Now I guess I know why he never wanted to get married through the church. He’d feel too fucking guilty.
I don’t know what to do to fix anything. I tried being patient. I tried not giving a fuck about him not spending time with me and the kids. I tried being okay with him always going with his friends or cousins. But I can’t try anymore. I don’t think I’m being selfish at all when I say that I never received anything in return. Material things can only keep you happy for so long.
And now…my period’s late. Once I started working our sex life plummeted into oblivion. Then I started feeling heavier and heavier and I started wondering if maybe everyone’s advice about the pill keeping you fat started creeping its way into my head. So I got off the pill. I figured, shit, we’re not having sex anyway. My luck would have it that we actually were intimate either 3 or 4 times since my last period. Mrs. Ruiz started hers last month right after I did. I told her about my dilemma. She called me today to tell me she got hers. I still haven’t.
God forgive me for saying this: A child is a blessing, but I really don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t. If we’re not already headed in that path, another child will definitely get us on the road to divorce. He got me that stupid Bluetooth shit for the Equinox and while I was standing next to him while he was installing it he asked me if I’d gotten my period. I told him no. Then he implied that I should get an abortion because he didn’t want another kid. I can’t be married to someone like that. He’s way passed not caring about me anymore. Not even when we were 16-years-old and I got pregnant with Eenan did he ever once ask me to get an abortion. And now, at 25 and 26, married for almost 9 years and both employed he’s asking me to? I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with him. I seriously wouldn’t doubt if he’s with someone else. Why else would he change so much? I know he’s resented me since I brought up having another baby and got pregnant with Alaethia. I know he never wanted her. Or maybe it’s because I finally did get fat; maybe he’s repulsed by my body. Or maybe because the house is always dirty, or because I don’t make him breakfast anymore, or sometimes I’m too tired to make dinner or lunch. Or maybe he is with that Abby bitch or some other bitch like her (it would explain his non-existent libido). But I never expected him to be this way. To treat me and the kids like such shit. And I don’t mean he’s physically abusing us or anything, but verbally abusing me and ignoring the kids is just as bad. Putting himself and everyone else before us is just as bad.
I really do like my job, but I blame working for ruining my marriage. I should have just listened to him and stayed home with Alaethia. But no. I was tired of people asking me what I was “doing” and hated seeing them cock their head to the side and sadly say, “Oh…” when I’d tell them I was a stay-at-home mom.
Or maybe it wasn’t the job at all and were doomed from the beginning.
And I’m realizing that maybe I’m really not even going to have a dream house. Stupid thing to think about, but I had this lovely vision of us outside on our back porch, sitting on a lawn loveseat, my legs on his lap watching the kids running in our carpet grass. Then we’d go inside and wash up, make popcorn in our spacey, bright, clean kitchen and snuggle up on our green couches in the family room and watch movies on the 47″.
I also realized tonight that he’s in it for himself now. We were supposed to go to Jorge’s tonight. We were celebrating Sammy’s birthday, but we were going afterwards. 8 o’clock rolls around, so I ask him if he’s ready. He says he’s waiting for Adan so he can workout. Bullshit. Last night he was over there for 3 hours and was on fucking Myspace. He ends up falling asleep on the couch and then just sits around moping. It’s 9:30 and I ask him if he’s ready to go now. He said no, it’s too late. Really? I remember leaving the house last week at 9:45 and getting there at 10. I already knew what he was doing. He had other plans. Sure enough, about 10 minutes later he comes up to me, with that stupid expression on his face that I hate, and asks if he can go to Manny. I told him, “It’s too late to go to Jorge’s but you’ll go to Manny’s? Without us?” He gets all defensive and rolls his eyes and yells, “That’s why I’m asking you! If you don’t want me to go I won’t go!” So I figure he came to the room to stew for a while but when I come over here at 10:30, he’s gone. I texted him, but he doesn’t have the decency or balls to respond.
I see him and I just don’t feel the same. I feel so angry towards him. He won’t change. He won’t make us happy. He won’t make me happy. He would have done it by now. Like he’d say back when we were dating and back when he was into “cruising” and going to Watson’s (probably at the strip clubs Watson worked at), “You can’t change anyone unless they want to change themselves.” He was right all along.