Thursday Eve

As I rolled out of town at about 6 because of rain, Nabal was already sloshed... He was trying to Getty me to promise him a favor blind... Would I, next week book us a hotel room for two nights... So I didn't laugh. I used to make sure we had a weekend or two out a year. Funny, he could make his own hotel reservation when he took Mary. The whole mess that really kicked all this off. No, nope, not interested.

"But you are my wife!"

Yeah, still trying to get mileage out of that...

He'll do whatever it takes to get me back. To make me happy. (he slurs out) If I were willing, and I'm not! He'd have to get real sober and be accountable first. (we've been down thus road before. In fact he asked and answered this some time ago without my saying a word.) He claims that in order for him to contemplate being sober and straightening out... I first have too sleep with him. Oldest trick in the book. Funny he has conditions...and I can't! What the he'll makes him think sex its some magic bullet? Probably actually doesn't think that at all. Just wants a piece of ass...

And when he finds a willing woman, he will be off without a backward glance. He's talking about buying another house. Building an apartment out back. (and has been for years) Paying for the kid's schooling. Wants to keep them at home for it. Oh! And us growing old together... If I stay I'll be dead from stress.

So I spent the day with the girlie looking for jeans. He said he thought I was coming home before I left...to give him a big kiss goodbye. What, has it been 2, 3 years? And I'm the one who needs to rush home and 'give' him a kiss...

Being on this mountain, with enough distance is healing. It all just takes me so long.

Oh and my reply was really that the last time he went to a hotel he didn't invite me...so now I'm not in the least interested. To that he actually formed the words: I've wasn't at any hotel. So funny, his history rewrites. Not funny though because he sounds like he believes his own lies...

Thursday

My four days a week away from home allows for fresh thoughts, and fresh sight and insight. I've known for years that dressing is a chore. I've known for years that I don't seem to ever have tops. I finally realized I just don't like my clothes. For working around the house I have plenty. To start with, styles I like only translate when I'm down a few sizes. Not that they are revealing, but its a cut, not tight but tailored. My tops though... I've spent years buying functional clothes. Clothes that would never bring attention from anyone. Subconsciously consciously deliberate.

When Nabal and I were first married, I was sizes smaller. Nabal thought a man was eyeballing me at a party and he wanted to fight the guy. I'm not at all flattered by that kind of behavior. I dragged him away in embarrassment. He claimed to have caught some guy trying to peep in our window. His question to me was what had I done to encourage the guy. Somewhere in there I decided that to put him at ease I should blend into the background. What I bought or made was either cheap or severe. Of course I had to jump on him one day for yelling out the car window at some girls... His excuse: I'm a man. He never did it again...but the message was evidently firmly placed. It smacks of the old thought that if a woman is sexually accosted, she did something to entice it. I became unenticing...

Last night Nabal was sloshed. He thankfully passed out mid sentence and I turned out the lights and tipped away. Left him sitting in a living room chair. He was on a campaign to win me back. at one point I sat down and he was standing far too close. Towing over me. I asked him why, with all the setting in the room he had to stand there? His reply: You are my wife. Oh! Head game alert!

He apologized for 'if' he ever did anything to hurt me. Though he's never done anything wrong and there had never been anyone else. Whatever I thought, was actually my imagination. Wow... Let us take a moment to mourn the death of truth.

And yet and still, I find myself feeling sorry for him. The pathetic figure of misguided boyhood. He plays it well. Until I checked out his new smartphone. At his invitation! He really did think he'd covered his tracks... Just not tech savvy... Still mooning over Mary...and a few other girls. And updated his profile pic on zoosk. Checked out his horoscope. Checked out a dating site, and put church folks on his acquaintance list. Busy boy! He has been saying lately that he needs a little lady in his life.

Of course he blows it all when he says: Hey lets get drunk and wild. (We can see how clearly he thinks...just what our kids need- two drunkard parents!) and Sleep with me, I'll change your mind and get you back...in my way. Lol, the panacea- sex. Not even getting into what a battle ground that has been for 20+ years... Lot of hurt there.

The thing is he's so convincing...if I didn't have the truth written down I'd be lost. I am like the elephant whose chain has been removed. Old habits, nothing more. Wanting to see and believe the best in someone who constantly prices their true colors and intentions. I have to work at not seeing the best in people, because I usually make a hasty retreat from unhealthy people. Oh how I wish I could have left years ago. I take a solace in that I'm still within my 5 year plan...! (but close to the end)

Wednesday

Nabal comes in today and says his head hurts... Because the heavy iron gate of his mortar mixer closed unexpectedly and conked him in the head and arm. No hard hat. The diluted mind on a construction site usually spells trouble! Every time he drinks excessively (for him) he gets hurt or almost killed.

Then he proceeded to tell...retell me the story of the Sunday work at the school. This time he was fairly sober (I think) and told the cleaned up version. Minus the weed and six pack part.

Tuesday

Have I mentioned I'm sick of my life and sick of hearing about it inside my head...? Sick of being stuck. Sick of my inability to seemingly do anything at all. I work so I don't have to think...about anything. I'm letting life sift through my fingers. At times I feel it will sift as is until there its none left. I continue to draw in on myself. I imagine I must seem an odd duck to pretty much everyone. I kinda don't care anymore. I've almost mastered emotionlessness. Situational game face. What is odd is that there are a few who do notice... It makes me perfect the transition and push everything further down. And wonder if they know because they themselves hide behind the smile.

I do know that until the taxes are satisfied I can't begin to think about leaving. Save myself? Never leave a man behind, even if you have to drag them out kicking and screaming. I can't fathom it all, so I become ineffective, confused and shut down. I wonder if I'm my biggest problem... So I push off from people, from life. I'm enjoying being away from Facebook. A voyeur to the flow of life... There were just so many reasons to shut it down. Disengaging feels right. If anyone really wants to find me, talk to me, they know my number. My birthday was last month. My girl and I celebrated. It made her happy.

Nabal...well...has been Nabal. He is very concerned about his weight. He's sure its from to many beers... His stomach seems to be growing again. He tries off and on to be more insistent. He came up behind me trying to hug me. When I tried to elude him, his grasp tightened uncomfortably. I told him to stop. He released me, but as he walked away he said I'd never be stronger than him... My shame is that my daughter was there... He also had been getting bolder off and on, trying to grope me. I've been lucky he's too drunk to act on it faster than I can get out of his way.

Nabal told me of his last Sunday morning job. At a school that as he found out has a church that meets there. He was talking with them and evidently discussing the Bible. I got stuck at the beginning of his tale. He and Pablito started the morning off with a lot of weed and a six pack for breakfast. Of course I have no idea how much off that was true as he told me a woman from the Spanish church had invited us to dinner. I was very close to the woman when she lost two members of her family in a car accident. In the light of day I never again heard anything about the visit...

I'm so sick of him asking why I am so hard on him when all he does is love me. I'm ruining his life. I ruined his church...evidently we were the main people there... So since I left then it went belly up between his arrogant sociopath pastor and his own drunken antics. But its my fault... This is why I write.

Oh gosh...I hope he was just drunk talking, he claims to have purchased alpacas. Said he had permits from the city. Where will I find homes for them? Lucky I do know people who raise them. Then he wants to raise someone elses kid. Someone her believes its a bad mother. Sad, I think he would probably treat the kid better than his own. He was incredulous that I said no I would not raise another child with him. I get so sick of his drunk talking. He'll wake me in the middle of the night and if I complain his reply is: You think I give a 'f' about you sleep. And if he asks me one more to 'make sex' I'll scream!

I'm just so tired of it all... some days I could just walk and never stop. Leave my phone and just blend with the background.

Saying Goodbye To My Sweetie

Its not been too pleasant these last 2 months. Work keeps me out of my head. Last week my little dog got sick. No nothing easy...lymphoma. We tried steroids, and they helped...for a week. Yesterday her lymph nodes took off again. Last night she wouldn't eat and had trouble walking. This morning she could stand assisted and had trouble breathing... It was time.

I said my last goodbye to my old lady Sweetie this morning. Fifteen good years! What a great quirky little dog. (I'm going to go on about her now. So if you aren't into sentimental mush...check out here.)

She was supposed to be an aquarium filter... It was freezing cold and she was part of an SPCA outing. A little skinny thing, with the biggest ears I'd ever seen on a beagle! All I could think of was the Taco Bell dog. She was shivering so fast, I had to speak to her and scratch get little head. I went about my shopping, but couldn't get her out of my head. We already had big Charlotte dog. I figured it this way- Nabal wouldn't mind because she looked kinda like a chihuahua... I was right.

They'd found her wandering a country road in 9 degree weather! She'd been mistreated somewhere along her 3 years of life. She was scared of men, men with caps and hoodies. She would head to a closet before I heard the thunder. She was near sighted, so I head to speak sometimes before she knew it was me. The sight of a gun or plastic bag sent her running to hide.
Everyone told me she had an odd look...heck, so do I! As she got older general consensus was she looked like a fox in her face. When she got snaggel toothed, she just got cuter!

She loved car rides! I'd feel bad in the summer to leave her home, she just looked so dejected... She followed me everywhere. Charlotte was her best bud, though one weighed 55 pounds and the other 20. Sweetie almost died defending Charlotte from a pack of stray dogs. She was a valiant little pup, though I knew her to be practically scared of her own shadow on a normal day.

We had a string of names for her: First it was Chalupa Lou. She was so good hearted, Sweetie stuck. Until people thought I was calling them sweetie... I'm public she was 'Weetie' or 'Weedles' I'm sure I'll think of a few more by and by...

Her last car ride...she roused herself to watch a passing shadow. She got that look when the the sun hit her face, that old familiar look. Then she'd struggle to breath, and it was still time. I hoped she'd just take her last breath and I wouldn't have to do the final deed. For a year or so she's been deaf (but could still hear a piece of food hit the floor!) on to of poor sight. It was time, that still didn't make it any easier. She runs free now! With her buddies Charlotte, Jack, Mr. Whiskers and more she'll be meeting right about now.

She will be missed. My long time friend.

I haven't told Nabal. Last week he wanted me to not to bring her back home. Last night he was telling me she was going down hill, which I already knew. I told him we were going to the vet in the morning. His reply was that I had taken her there last week... Maybe it is as sentimental as he can get...

I'd kinda hoped we would have made it much longer... I'll miss her silliness in the sun, but she'll never hurt again.