Stay or Go

I can feel my whole body tense up when he enters the house. It's worse when he's in the same room. And it's not just me. I can see how he negatively affects everyone in the house. He's become the elephant in the room that we're trying so desperately not to see. He's ignoring everyone as well. Every so often he'll drop a "request", his tone dripping with venom.

Last night's request was that we clear off a shelf on the refrigerator for his food. He refuses to eat any food we buy or prepare. I've told my mother that this will actually help us with our budget since he always refused to eat leftovers. We will only have to make a few big meals and coast along on leftovers the rest of the week. But back to the shelf thing. He made his request, my mom shrugged at him never taking her eyes off the tv-- she does the silent treatment better than anyone I know-- and I couldn't help myself, I gave him a dirty look.

I offered to clean off a shelf for his food and meant to set about doing so just as soon as he left the house for the day. Since it was only me in the house, he decided to linger. I stayed in my room and studied. The cat hung out with me and we studied together. I then passed out for a bit because I got no sleep last night and when I woke up he was still home. Eventually he left and I puttered around for a bit and when he returned it was a bit of a stand-off. I pretended he wasn't around.

Lunch rolled around and I got a phone call during my meal. It was my dear Albanian friend calling to tell me that she failed a test by two points. We wallowed in our misery together and she took me up on my offer to help her study. That killed a few hours and the fridge still hadn't been cleared.

I finally got around to it and was all squicked out by the nastiness in the fridge. I attacked that grunge like it was my father, all the while grumbling under my breath to the cat. I threw his crap on the shelf, swore a bit, grumbled more and wondered if he would either come to his senses or just leave already.

Mom came home for lunch. We had a little bitch session. Sometimes when I look at her, I see that she almost hopes for divorce. I think mostly to just have something definite. "He pulls this every couple of years," she said to me. "You didn't beg him to stay," I reply. "Not this time. Not anymore." And I see the years of frustration and anger and pain on her face.

"I gave him over 30 years of my life. 30 years of walking on eggshells. 30 years of giving up everything for him. It always had to be his way. I wasted 30 years of my life on that man." And I want to cry because I know that feeling well. Only I didn't put up with it for nearly that long. I also know how scared she must feel. Even if you want to leave a bad situation, it was the only situation you've known for so long. The rest is unknown. Unknown and terrifying.

I only had to contend with 5 years of marriage and 3 years of separation. I wanted out so badly and even then it was difficult. I had a nervous breakdown of sorts. I can't even fathom how difficult this must be for her. And I'm still thinking selfishly at this point. I can't help but think it would be better for all concerned if he did just leave. It would be easier than this at any rate.