My mother does not understand why I don't want to live in a small RV 45 minutes from work with a husband, 12-year-old and 10 animals. To her it is free rent. I want an apartment or home...not a cramped RV.
FUCKING right, Mama!
You know what else I want? To wake up and find out this was all a nightmare. I want to sit up and look around my bedroom and see my stuff, my life. I want to be asleep right now so that in the morning I can get up and go to work at a building that is not condemned. I want a home. I want everything Paul has ever given me for my anniversary and all the trinkets people have given to me back.
I want justification for what has happened. I don't want to be wondering everyday how it is possible for me to go on with my life. I want to stop crying over this keyboard.
How can I explain how I feel? Over a month ago I fled my home and didn't even look back. I NEVER FUCKING LOOKED BACK!
My personal life is spread a mile down the road and in the ocean. Walls I laughed in, cried in and loved in have fallen into the garden I loved. Nothing is left. 25 years are all gone and I have no idea how or if I will ever start again. The child I was raising as my own is a thousand miles away and my husband and I can barely talk to each other. WHAT THE FUCK DID WE DO? I promise I won't do it again...if there is a god I will worship him or her...just fix this pain.
The guilt of feeling sorry for myself is the worst. There are so many others much worse than I. The trivial stuff I thought was so awful in my life has disappeared and I would give anything to trade this for that.
My Busbar has kicked in and I think I can sleep now.