Walls I Built

Welcome back Faithfuls. I hope you took a minute to reflect where we left off last week.  If you missed any part of the story, I suggest starting here before going forward.

Faithfuls, last we spoke I started down a road I must finish walking. In order to fully understand how I let go of 8 years of together forever but not really with no fight, you need to start at the very beginning of my divorce. On paper, the divorce began August of 2020 but in actuality the split began sooner for me. Petty me blames a planning spirit that kept my feet planted firmly within a marriage when my heart pumped lukewarm. All I’s needed dotting and T’s needing crossing before ripping the band aid off a situation-ship that no longer served its purpose. Plus, I owed My Past the diligence of care filled thought, a decision that unearthed our footing made hastily screamed irresponsibility. At my big age, recklessness no longer yields laughter, that’s a space owned by young adult tomfoolery. But hesitation held me hostage, dying from a thousand tiny cuts delivered by a person who claimed to love me. Don’t follow my lead.  If I were a smarter woman less scared of the failure of a thing, ending our together forever but not really should have happened the year of our actual marriage, 2018…possibly sooner.

I should have known since May 4^th, 2018 approximately 9PM ET that The Anti-Husband wholly intended on letting me walk alone in this world despite our couple-ness. Standing in toilet water should have triggered, yes girl the shit does stink. Not that I needed a rude awakening really, the wedding itself was a testament to why we didn’t work. If honesty is a thing and it is, My Past’s value adds to our wedding included creating an unnecessary disagreement between our families (a gossiping man is anything but attractive), a request for a custom suit, and losing his best man just days before the ceremony. Salute to the Former Best Man for sending a very heartfelt apology text to let me down easy. We don’t have time today to unpack these stories. Just know that I take full accountability for any words or actions that caused pain, anger, hurt, or animosity surrounding the nuptials. All I wanted was our day, but impact is greater than intent.

To the point, walking alone despite our couple-ness – I have for the life of our relationship felt alone. This comes as no surprise to My Past. We spoke about it a number of times. This alone-ness I felt/feel was not specific to my marriage as much as it’s specific to me. Since a very young age, possibly when my parents checked out of active parenting, and I stepped in to loosely raise my siblings, the loss of parental cover left me ALONE. I don’t know how else to describe it. Transitioning as an adolescent into the oversized shoes of adulthood comes at a cost. For me it meant understanding that everyone designed to have my back, will not. It was and is my responsibility always to care for those left in my charge and what scraps remained, were for me. My Past was the exact wrong person to meet given my disposition. Remember he acknowledged his brokenness and craved fixing. His overwhelming need created a charge to care and his inability to give exacerbated the lonely spirit that naturally exists in me. This is not his fault…not entirely.

Takers or people who consume others have no appreciation of the emotional toll paid by givers. It’s impossible almost, think of it this way – extroverts gain energy by surrounding themselves with people vs the introvert who requires solitude to rejuvenate. These dynamically opposed individuals struggle understanding the calling of the other. Same existed with My Past. His capacity to comprehend me fundamentally as a person, sadly didn’t exist and most days I saw no effort to try. Some of the scenarios I described thus far speak to his inability to see or care for me. Regardless of which position selected his impact remains the same.  A person like me, who naturally feels alone, bottles up even more when the person selected to care, just doesn’t. Given my starting point or hell even my expectation that people will not show up for me, his lack of care at times didn’t even register as painful. Instead, I created emotional barriers to protect myself, and I used those walls to shield myself from him. My Past was killing me.

Eventually the walls overtook our together forever but not really and nothing else existed between us but memories and half-hearted apologies. But I told you I would tell y’all what added the brick to a wall so high I saw no way to make it back to My Past. Because I love a birthday, it’s something about celebrating one’s birth that sparks the extrovert that lives deep inside me, I gifted My Past a trip to Cali attached to one of my work events. We planned to ride up the coast to visit Malibu and San Diego. He took majority of the trip visiting dispensaries but honestly when in Rome. This was one of the few times his indulgence didn’t work a nerve. I even took a puff as we coasted along the highway. But like most island summer days, there’s always rain. While riding, taking in the sights My Past told me that the trip to LA was great, he was happy to get away from life, and really put things into perspective. What I expected next was a ramped-up game plan to finally start cooking seriously, one that included maintaining his day job, because bills, but taking the rest of those workable hours to get it going. Instead, he told me that he was quitting his job (another one in my DJ Khalid voice) and he needed me to take the equity out of my home to fund his newest aspiration.

On its face this is not that bad. If you believe in your spouse’s dream financially fronting or supplementing a calculated risk to further the family makes prudent sense. It doesn’t make sense when you’re the sole contributor. It also doesn’t make sense when the entirety of your then 6-year relationship you’ve witnessed your partner in crime squander opportunities, make terrible decisions, and neglect all financial responsibility including but not limited to your household. With a draw of smoke My Past asked me to risk my security blanket, the one place I felt completely safe. Flashes of the sheriff padlocking my doors and ousting me to the streets formed in my mind. For all my works, I’d end up sleeping on my mother’s couch with my HUSBAND beside me. I asked a simple question, what is Plan B, if this somehow falls apart? His response was essentially it won’t fail so there’s no Plan B. I told him this was too much to ask. I’d fronted our entire lifestyle for 6 years and I was hoping now that we were married it would mean he’d take into consideration that his responsibility to me was greater than, babe I’m sorry I spent all the house money. At that moment I realized that no matter how much I gave, even if I pulled the equity in my home, it would never be enough and he would always have another ask, an even larger ask, because he’s a taker.  When I looked him in the eyes, not only did I see a child, but I also no longer saw a man. Neither of those things am I attracted to.

It becomes impossible to perform as a wife when you no longer see a husband. At that moment I knew he would sacrifice me for anything in life if it brought him closer to whatever flight of fancy ran through his convoluted mind. I was as disposable as anyone else. He called me selfish when I said I thought he should revisit this plan. Those words pierced me deep. It removed the forever from our together and I began an emotional divorce that birthday weekend. At the time, I’m not fully sure I knew it. Know there’s more where this came from so stay tuned for the next installment. Are you able to pinpoint when you stopped with your ex? Is it a single moment or are there a number of tiny cuts? Speak on it in the comments, in the meantime, and between time, please share, like, comment, and subscribe…isn’t that what we do on this here interweb.

Remember to share is to care and hashish.