Green eyes

All I knew this morning when I woke
Is I know something now I didn't before
And all I've seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes
and your smile in the back of my mind
making me feel like I just want to know you better
I just want to know you

Cause all I know is we said hello
And your eyes look like coming home
All I know is you held the door
You'll be mine and I'll be yours
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed

And all my walls stood tall, painted blue
But I'll take them down and open up the door for you
And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies
the beautiful kind
Making up for lost time
taking flight

Come back and tell me why
I'm feeling like I've missed you all this time
And meet me there tonight
And let me know that it's not all in my mind

All I know is we said hello
So dust off your highest hopes
All I know is a new found grace
All my days
I'll know your face
All I know since yesterday is everything has changed

No, thank you.

The first time this happened to me... I was shocked and then so incredibly sad and filled with grief.
I never managed to get angry.
I just felt that he was crazy (which he was, literally) and I couldn't get angry at someone who wasn't in their right state of mind.
I wished nothing but the best for him.

Now, I am angry.
I have never been this infuriated before.
I am not angry that he has left me or broken another promise.
I'm angry that he has left his daughter.
I'm angry that he didn't exhaust every method to earn the right to get a divorce.
I'm angry that he is repeating the pattern of his parents when he is so angry at them for not taking care of him and putting him first.
I'm angry that he is a selfish man.
Who runs out on a six month old baby?

The reality is I have been so worried that I would never find someone like him again.
God, I hope I never do!


I am so done with all of this.
If this is who he is going to be.
If this is all he has to offer.
No, thank you.
I'm good.

Exhausting

Anna told me that I am "guarding."

In other words, I am constantly being viligant.
I am not letting myself relax or feel anything for fear of the weight of it crushing me.
So I stay up past exhaustion.
I make myself eat the bare minimum.
I am constantly keeping my mind going, so it can't relax and just feel things.
I dread the minutes or hours I have to be alone with no one to distract me.

My thoughts are consumed with this devastation but purely on an intellectual level. My heart and soul have checked out of the situation.

I can't afford to drown like I did before.
I have to stay upbeat and moving forward for Coraline.

I don't want this transition to be any harder on her than it already is.

But I feel like this tightly leashed control I have is fragile.
Like at any moment I will dissolve into tears and heartbreak.

Boston Creme

I can't even eat a Boston Creme Donut in peace.
It reminds me of when I was pregnant because that was the only donut I ever wanted.
And being pregnant reminds me of you.
She is your daughter.

I need to forget you.

Fly, blackbird.

This is the one blog I have that you don't know about. The one place I can open up and tell you all the things I can't tell you.

I love you.
I believe you when you tell me that you love me.

I know that you haven't been the same since Afghanistan and a part of your heart died there and that was the part where I lived.

I had hoped you would want to move forward because we have a beautiful daughter now.
I thought you would have fought for us.
But you are lost to me.
And have always been lost to her but I never knew it.

There was a part of me that was always scared that this day would come to pass. Now that it has I feel -- nothing.
I don't think I am capable of feeling anything.

I am so exhausted.
I keep a brave face on.
I won't let myself fall apart.
I keep telling myself that I have been here before.
I will be okay.
Coraline would be served better to be raised with a man who adores her mother than with a man who can't commit to us.

It doesn't change the fact that it hurts.

I think it hurts more than I realize.
Mostly, because I can't feel it.
I don't even feel numb.
I just don't feel anything about this.
Everything is tightly bottled and tucked deep inside.

I guard against those feelings by staying up past the point of exhaustion so that when I fall asleep it's nothing but oblivion.
I stay busy with my friends and family. Surrounding myself with them.
I am so exhausted I can't even pray.

But I am filing for divorce this week.
I know, I have to.
I can't do this to myself anymore.
I won't do this to Coraline.
And if you want to be free so badly then we can let you go.

Moment of weakness

It's been one year and three months since we've been back together.
We've had our first child.
We've moved from Phoenix to Dallas.

We've fallen in love and out of love numerous times.

We are in a rough spot right now.
I am not sure if I want to stay or go. If I should stay.
I hurt you.
You hurt me back.
I tell you I am miserable and I want to leave.
You tell me you love me and want to make this work.
I push you to the brink and watch you drown in a sludge of Bud Light.

Then you talk to her.

For the first time in a year and three months.

Now, I am stuck sitting here, waiting for you to come home.
I don't know what I am going to say to you.

I don't know if I am going to demand you get out.
I don't know if I am going to fight for this marriage.
I don't know if I am going to hear you out.
I don't know if I am just going to break down and cry.

I can't tell you how angry I am.
There aren't words for it.

But underneath the anger I am so hurt.
I so badly want to be the one you love.
I want our daughter to grow up with both of her parents.

I want to get back what we use to have.

We use to have magic.
For years, we had magic.
We were that couple.
The couple other couples envied.
The couple that other people thought would last forever.

And now, we are that couple no one else wants to be.
It's not all your fault.
I wish I could say it was.

But you can't deny you slice me to the quick.
Sometimes, I am barely hanging on by a thread.
And you keep fraying the little bit I have left.

I already know what you're going to tell me when you walk through that door.
You're going to tell me that you love me.
That you love our daughter.
That you want our marriage to work.
You want our family.

That you had a moment of weakness.

Did you have a moment of weakness?
Or a moment of truth?

Is she the one you really want?
And not me?

Is this failed dream you had of her more important than the eight years of blood, sweat, and tears we've had?

So I pray.

I find myself struggling with his relationship with her more than I ever had before.
I tell myself that much of it is my hormones.
Pregnancy is already a time of emotional roller coasters and mood swings...but now those emotional roller coasters are fueled by a deep hurt and betrayal.

What I do know is that I have forgiven him for what has happened.
It did not happen by my own will but rather through God's good grace. 
Yet all that forgiveness has given me is leave to not be angry.


And I'm not.
But it still hurts.

Before, when we were separated all I had to do was let go and move on.
I didn't have to like it, I didn't have to work through it, I just had to relegate him to my memory and move foward.
But now that I am trying to rebuild a life with him that is no longer an option. At least a healthy and viable one.

I have to deal with the feelings sadness, betrayal, fear...

And I carry around a lot of fear nowadays.

When I moved down to Arizona there was a large part of me that didn't think I would be down here for too long.
I thought I would come down here and see for myself that our marriage was truly over.
I knew that if I landed on my face and heartbroken again-I would bear it and grow from it. Just like I did the first time.
Eventually I would be okay and there would no longer be any doubts.

But now, there is this hope that has blossomed within me--hope that maybe all is not lost.
But with that hope comes a crippling fear.

I am scared that he will leave me (and our child) again.
I am scared that he will never love me the way he should again.
I am scared that he will never get over her.
I am scared.

At the end of the day if the worst case scenario happens---I know that I will be heartbroken (all over again) but I also know that I will still heal.
That God still holds me and my life in his hands and that is the safest place for it.

So why do I do all of this?
Why do I hold on in the face of all of this fear?

Because I never stopped loving him.
I made vows before God and I meant them.
And love will hold on until it can't anymore.
So I am still holding on.

I try to remind myself that how I feel now won't be how I will always feel. 
And I know in my heart to leave this marriage would be wrong.

I think to myself -- what if I did leave and got married a second time and suffered something just as traumatizing in that marriage and had to work through forgiveness, love, trust, and moving on.

So why not hang on and do it now in this marriage--with this man that I love--that I still want to spend the rest of my life with.

So I pray (often) that God will do the rest of the work for me.
That He will heal my heart, heal my husband, and heal our marriage.
Because I am incapable of doing it myself.