Sunday, November 8, 2015


P has been giving me the silent treatment, and I don't know what's going to happen next.    He must be getting a sick kind of thrill out of all of this.  

Let me explain.  Yesterday,  P, Derek and I visited the house where I grew up to help celebrate my mother's birthday.  I have been on edge for a while about this, because P has not informed me of his plans regarding the divorce that he is determined to get--he just told me that he wanted one, and has not said another word about it since Saturday night.  I had tried my best to find out what he had planned before we took this one hour trip together, but I guess that he'd rather see me squirm.  

So, in other words, I didn't know if or when he was going to stand up and announce to my side of the family that I was a lying, cheating whore.  Was it going to be while my mother cut her birthday cake, or while she was opening her presents?  A usually happy occasion was miserable.  Reunion with aunts, uncles and my sister were tarnished by the fact  that at any moment, P could drop the bomb to blow up my family's happiness.   Every time he opened his mouth, I held my breath. He knew that I was afraid of what he might say, and took pleasure in the torture that it caused.  Revenge must feel so sweet.

I didn't truly know that I was in the clear until we were in the van, driving home.  I could finally breathe after such a harrowing day.  I wanted to cry, but did not want to give him that satisfaction.  The ride home was as silent as the ride there. For once, I didn't want to talk, and didn't wait for P to give me that "get lost" look once Derek fell asleep.  I just wanted to get away from him.

Once I walked into T's house, I headed straight for the kitchen--didn't even say hi to T as I passed him sitting in the living room.  I opened the fridge, stole a bottle of beer, opened it and seemed to suck it down in two seconds.  I needed it so badly, and a beer never tasted so good.

"Is there a problem?" T asked.

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and then spent the rest of the evening venting about the day.  Today, I returned to more silence, and more pretending to be the perfect wife at church, then the social afterwards.   At night, once Derek was asleep, I was kicked out again.   I don't know how much more of this I can take.

No comments:

Post a Comment