The hardest part is the loneliness. When I was in elementary school, I was made fun of. A lot. I was often the butt of jokes, which taught me to smile when I wanted to cry and laugh when I wanted to yell. At school, I was surrounded by kids but I always felt alone.
When I got married, I got busier than normal. I was now responsible for a household, bills, and finishing school and if I had any free time, it was usually spent at home. My ex and I would argue any time I wanted to go out without him because he felt excluded. I was isolated, but thought it was ok because I was at least with him. And then my oldest daughter was born and I suddenly realized I didn't have the time or energy to parent both my husband and my daughter. I asked him for help. He instead chose to start an affair. Afterwards, he "came back" to me, but I still felt alone. One of the more telling things he said during this whole ordeal was to his mistress: "I don't care if I lose Becki, but I don't want to lose my kids. Don't tell her about us."
He lived with me, but he was never really there.
My kids are trying and take a lot of work, but they give me immense joy. That said, I have no one with whom to share that joy. My heart feels empty most days. I chose to get married because I didn't want to go through life alone. I wanted to share the things I loved with someone. But I chose a man who only loved himself, who chose to love only the things that he valued. And it turns out, I wasn't someone he valued.
So I'm lonely. I've been lonely going on 5 years. And loneliness is a common feeling for me.
They say you have to learn to be alone to be happy with someone else. I've learned loneliness for so long. I've given everything I have to another person, just to have it rejected and be replaced (twice in a row now). Both by people who promised to be there for me and take care of me.
I have to take care of myself. That's not a new lesson. But it gets harder and harder everyday to be alone.
“Wash the plate not because it is dirty nor because you are told to wash it, but because you love the person who will use it next.” - Saint Teresa of Calcutta Every night after dinner, Niles does the dishes. Mostly, he stacks them in the dishwasher and runs it, but often he also hand washes the pots and pans, setting them in the drying rack and putting them away later when they've air-dried enough. He always clears the table and wipes it down, making sure everything is the way it was (sometimes cleaner than it was) before we sat down to eat. At the beginning of our relationship, when he’d do this I felt somewhat at a loss. Doing the dishes had always been my responsibility, along with nearly every other household chore, and I wondered what to do with myself while this other person took care of it. It was one of many mundane tasks that had always been on my already-full plate and freeing that space felt almost like cheating. A little breathing room felt suffocating in the con...
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