what matters and why

you raise me up

he asked me one night why the same song repeats itself. i didn't answer. i pretended like i was asleep. that night, i had returned home and he was asleep on the couch. in our house that he claimed not to own a key to. i couldn't wake him up. i tried. his body was heavy, and his breathing was loud. i let him stay on the couch, and laid in bed with my son. after i had taken a bath. and played the same song over at least twenty times. not that i felt better after. i was sad. i remember the attempt to pull myself out of the bath was excruciating. he was on the couch. this person who had cut into my soul so deeply. that song played in the background. out of the bath and into the bed. and the song, i left it on repeat. the same one. over and over and over again. sleep in those days was almost impossible. it was for a few minutes at a time. i knew that eventually he would wake from the couch, and want to come to bed with us. i was so still, barely breathing. maybe crying a little in between the attempt to sleep. it was early in the morning when he finally pulled himself from the other room and into our room that we once shared. he lay on the other side of our child. as if there was nothing wrong. that we would wake up that Christmas morning and open presents as if our family was still intact. i would pretend that i knew nothing. not that it mattered to him that i was trying so hard to conceal everything i felt. it didn't matter. at the time, i was the least of his problems.

in the morning, he would ask about the song. why was the radio on anyway, when i had always slept in silence? how dare i change in his absence. why was it the same song, and why did it play all night long? i didn't know. it must have been a mistake. what an explanation. not that it mattered. he saw right through me. my words, at the time, had no meaning to him. just words.

the days before, three in a row, i didn't hear from him. he was with someone else. then, i would deny that. i believed his explanation of his absence. tough times. stress. an attempt to recover from my demands....

were they so horrible? what did I want? counseling- for us, together, but for him alone first. i wanted access to all finances. I wanted him to at least pretend he wanted to be a part of his son's life.

he said he needed time.....

it was too much to ask of me. i didn't have time. i gave him time when i chose to marry him. i gave up my dreams, my goals. i gave up myself. for our child, for him. to ease his insecurities. five years of my time to that life. it wasn't enough.... he needed more. obviously.

it's christmas morning, and i'm in loose fitting clothes and and new underwear. he doesn't look in my direction. why should he? he gets what he wants somewhere else. i haven't been able to eat in a month. i can't keep anything down. fifteen pounds have quickly slipped off me, and I own nothing that fits. i wonder if he notices, but he doesn't. whatever it is that caused him to pass out on the couch the evening before still seems to have a hold on me. he isn't there. not while he is making hot chocolate, not while our five year old tears into his presents. we pretend like we like each other. i look at him, but he refuses eye contact. i feel like nothing. i don't know why i exist. everything i ever thought that i was working toward now has no meaning. he has taken everything away from me. in such a short time......

and that song, even now. i will cry. it takes me back. the night before thanksgiving, his truck, her house, reality for me. before i saw his truck there, i could make excuses. but then, that night, there was none. he was there, with her. i was alone. he was going to leave. he wanted her.

what i wanted? it never crossed my mind. all that i had ever been was the mother to our child, and he came first. i didn't even know i existed as a person. i had given everything to the life i had chosen.

he must not have known how much i was hurting that night, or he would not have spoke to me the way he did. he thought of himself. how he didn't know how to get out of the situation he was in. and if he broke the little self confidence that i had, he might be able to make it out. it was up to me. he needed me to give in, to break down. to admit that it was myself who failed as well. who drove him to her. he couldn't do it. that night, i told him i would leave him. i would leave this life. something i never wanted. he said he would take his own life, and implied that would solve all problems. i cried, as he expected, and he had me. if that was his choice, i would be responsible. how would i move on after that? it was the first of many suicide attempts. i didn't know how to handle this person my husband had turned into. he wasn't the same. not even close to who i had been living with for five years.

and as we drove away, and he chose to stay with her, i asked the driver to stop. for five minutes, i threw up. it wasn't possible. i hadn't eaten. in at least five days. i threw up for ten minutes, and we left. she drives me home. i cry all night. i lay in bed we shared, and the song plays itself over and over and over again. i sleep for thirty minutes at a time, and cry in between. the next morning, i manage to pick myself up out of bed. i don't have any energy. i have slept in my clothes from the night before, and it takes all my enery just to get them off, and into something else.

he has no idea.

and that christmas eve... the one when he wouldn't wake up. no explanation for his presence. why he passed out on the couch. he questions the song, it's meaning. no words could ever explain what i have been through. what he put me through. the emotional damage that won't go away.

the cd i have now.... it skips on that song. and i still cry.