I can go from fine to a puddle of hysterics in a second. I really hate that. I feel like I have no control over my emotions at all. I absolutely hate that.
If someone is nice to me, I fall apart. If someone is shitty, I fall apart. Today, someone threatened me and has the means to carry it out, and that is about the only thing that made me mad instead of sad. Maybe I need more of that.
Tonight, Mandy helped me pack up stuff in Barry's closet. He left a lot of his stuff here--thousands of dollars of clothes, shoes, etc. Lots still with tags on it, and some I know were his favorites. He said he took what he wanted, and to do whatever I wanted to with the leftovers. What I want is for him to come live here and use it all, but I guess I do not get that option. So we packed away a lot of things I am sure he will wish he had later like his padded butt shorts for biking, and special biking socks and stuff like that, and made a bunch of bags of things to give away. I kept some things that I love, like some old favorite shirts that we both wore. I am sure there will be a day when I do not want to look at those things, and will move them on, but for now, I still want them.
Then we put up the ever present laundry and put some of my things in his closet. He had the master bedroom closet to himself with all the fancy organizer stuff in it, while my stuff was always in guest room closets with no lights in them. I never thought that much of it before, but now I realize how crazy that was since he did not even live here most of the time. He just had so many clothes and he wanted it that way. That is another prime example of how things may have looked one way outside of this house, but were another way inside of it, that most people would never have realized.
Then I spent a long time on the phone with a guy friend who is sure that Barry has been cheating on me for years, and it is my fault for being such a bitch who takes care of business. I do not think he has been cheating on me, but maybe he has. I do not think he is that kind of person. I am not sure it really matters.
I know I am a handful. My friend called me a mastiff. That is probably pretty close to accurate. I do not want to be, I just feel like I have had to be. It has pissed me off for a long time that just because I CAN take care of myself, I should not HAVE to all the time. I should never have to wonder if he would defend me or stand up for me should the situation arise. I don't know how come being strong, independent and capable turned into a bad thing--and how come, if you are those things, you cannot also have someone who loves you and wants to help you be all of that?
So that was a disturbing conversation. I know he said a lot of things I did not want to hear, but needed to--but nothing that has not been running through my head anyway.
One thing that bothered me, I have heard for the second time now. Did I give up too easy? Was I supposed to beg and plead for him to love me? To stay? To let me fix it? To guilt him into changing his mind? Am I supposed to track him down, and proposition him, and would it matter if I did?
I am trying so hard to get through this. I know the things I did wrong in this relationship. I know the things he did wrong. My friend seemed to think I do not value my marriage if I do not go down fighting and kicking and screaming like a banshee. I think what I am doing is trying to respect Barry's decision. It is killing me, but I really feel like this is so far gone that there was no point. That I did not get let in on the secret until after the body was decomposing in the ground seemed to be a calculated move so that I could NOT change his mind. I do not think I could stand to do the post-mortem again and to resort to my old ways of getting my way at any cost would destroy any chance Barry and I have of salvaging a friendship out of this. I guess I am hedging my bets.
And that is another thing--something I do not think people understand about me--it was never about getting my way at all costs, because quite often I did not know where I ended and Barry started, so never was a decision made in my life without consideration of where he stood on the issue. I think he never really understood that, no matter how many times I tried to explain that. Just because I did not do something his way did not mean that I did not consider it. And quite often, he would not give me an opinion to work with so I had to work it out for myself. I think maybe I guessed wrong on a lot of things, huh?
I have not let my mind even entertain the thought that I could change his mind. I do not think I could live like that, waiting for the other shoe to drop, not being able to trust what I see or feel....it sounds like a special kind of hell. I don't think I am giving up, I think I am just accepting his decision because I do not have any choice.
I am mixed up. Its hard not being able to talk all this through with him, but I am trying to let him have what he wants, and that is to be away from me. That leaves me to sort it all out in my mind by myself. I do not want to talk bad about him, that seems unfair, especially as I worry what he is telling people about what happened. I want to be as respectful as possible of him. I know he is struggling with this too--obviously not like I am, but he says it is not easy for him either.
This better get easier.