Oh, Honey

I didn't want to say it aloud that morning in late November. Still, I had one of my paranoid visions––you know, anxiety-ridden irrational fear manifesting as mental images unsuitable for children. As my husband left for work, I imagined he might be involved in a terrible car accident. I thought, "What would I do if he died?" I mean, honest to goodness, what the fuck would I do? Sure, I'd survive. An old friend recently told me, "You'll get through this. You always do." And she's right. I've made eye contact with the devil as I escaped the bowels of hell. The stinging chill of bare ass hitting rock bottom is a feeling so familiar to me that warm comfort scares me senseless.

But, the thought of my best friend, my son's father, the man for whom I've fought tooth and nail for nearly a decade, ceasing to live and breathe, left me breathless, terrified, and nauseous. Of course, he lived to see another day. Then, roughly ten days later, he broke my heart and shattered my world. It felt almost like he'd died like in my nightmare. But, unlike the fictional car crash dreamed up by my fear, this is reality. And my husband didn't die. But it felt like he did. And now it feels like his ghost is haunting me.

Around ten at night on December 8th, 2022, he asked for a divorce. But, he decided he'd rather stay by Christmas day–still living in the house we share due to a lack of funds required to abandon your family. Perhaps, he had a change of heart because he felt guilty. Maybe, he's not in love with the other woman after all. But, on the other hand, it could be that he's come to his senses where his six-year-old son is concerned.

He's still here. And, still communicating with her.
It doesn't matter.

What matters is how I am and how I'm feeling. So how do I process this?

She is apparently in cohorts with a "crisis" advocate from the local police department because she's pretending I attacked her. Oh, if she only knew right. We can all agree: had I come for her, there'd be no investigation.

Touche, Victoria. Touche.