I awoke at 4 a.m. this morning. My mind was whirling and jumping, and I just had such an overwhelming sadness. Looking on how I arrived at this point. Broken. Broken life. Broken family. Broken child becomes broken adult. That odd person- nice but offputting. Quirky, out of the main, weird. They talk at people because they don't really know how to talk with people. They are at times funny, funny is safe, a fake closeness. They'd rather laugh with you. They try to keep the bitterness buried. The fact that life isn't fair, learned at an early age, leaves them in fear. What ever can go wrong... Sometimes heading it off at the pass. The self fulfilling prophecy.
I got in late last night. (by design) Nabal comes bouncing out of his room- sober. Asks about my drive. Was it long? Same distance its been for a year...
Lunges for a hug. Tries to kiss my arm... Can I help you with your bags?
Follows me downstairs. Am I tied? Yes. He wants to talk. Even the IRS told him he needs an accountant!
Are you going to sleep? Yes. Give me a kiss goodnight! (what?) Come on, just a little kiss on the lips. He'd already politely asked me to come sleep upstairs. (no to all. Go away!)
If he acts, if he pretends there is no problem...is he hoping I will just cave and we'll be one big happy family again? It's a if he's living his comment of things happen in life...and you just need to get over it. He's gotten over it, now I need to follow suit. He brooks no separation. No divorce. Last week when he was trying to lay the blame of his not having his citizenship in 20 years on me. It's all so muddled...he's needed a lawyer from the beginning. So we need to sit down together and remember when he went to Mexico. When I told hon to do it himself... His reply: We are one! We have to do it together.
Talking to a coworker of Mexican heritage who herself grew up with an alcoholic father and despising her mother for not leaving. In telling her she replied: God forbid a Mexican man would fill out his own paperwork! They feel women should do all their 'menial' tasks. Then we compared notes. We both knew Mexican men that had their 'women' place calls to their friends as if the women were their secretaries! She purposefully no longer dates Mexican men because of their expectations of, not even subservience, but of expectations of rights of ownership.
Nabal comes in today...butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. He sits down and after a little while he starters caressing my shoulder. Not in any loving way, but possessive. I'd rather he not touch me at all!
Ha!! Finally the truth! "Are you coming to church with me tomorrow?" I replied that I was going to church like I always do when I'm in town. "No, you're going to church with me." There are some people who can make a slimly veiled order sound more like a harmless question. Nabal being one.
I have been leaving on Wednesdays for the last 3 weeks- therefore missing church for as many weeks.
I explained that tomorrow it's a fellowship night and I was taking food. Nabal- "Just come for a little while." They are on opposite ends of town, extreme opposites!
I see this game a mile away! He wants to parade the family as his holy window dressing... First me, then the kids. Not having it! Not keeping quiet again hoping someone will notice his spirit.
Conversation goes on: "But I told the people you were coming." Why? "To introduce you." Why? "Because I want to." Thank you I already have a church. "I'm going to be helping them with their Spanish ministry." I laughed...like he always helps. More recruiting drinking buddies than anything else.
Now back up two days. I awoke to a text that read: 'Breaking news poppys starting a church tomorrow lol' That was from one of or children. He was roaring drunk. He sees this as a position of power, not service. It'll be 'his' church.
Then he asked me the name of the pastor of the church in the city we lived in when we first married. I knew about this church. They came to town a few years after we arrived. I already had a church home but I did let Nabal know. To see if he were interested in attending again. They were very interested in starting a Spanish arm of their church, but did not speak Spanish. They were returning missionaries from Africa. I knew them slightly and knew some of their family. He wasn't interested. At that time I would have moved churches. That was years before I found my current long term home.
Why the sad awakening? Because of this pushing against reality. Because Nabal will place his hand, not on me, but close enough to be personal space. I can feel the possession in it. It's meant too send a message. Makes me feel hopeless. Not to the point of turning back and willingly put the blinders back on, but willing to give up on hopes, dreams, anything beyond this moment. Feeling trapped.
