I woke up this morning thinking I was in for a good day. My plans were to spend the morning at Sportland (Josh is being rebellious and getting a motorcycle), have a girls only lunch with Dani and Erika, and finish my last day of work with my afternoon family. Then, tonight my cousins will be in town for a few days and that was supposed to be the highlight of my weekend.
Instead, I was rudely awakened by the UPS man, not knocking, but banging on our door. Josh ran from "his room" to answer, grabbed the package, ran back to "his room," and slammed and locked the door.
This has recently become regular behavior. At the end of the night, he heads into "his room", slams, then locks the door. And it hurts. Every single time I hear that *click* of the lock, it's another nail in the coffin of our once happy marriage. I've done my best to let it go or to make jokes like, "What? You think I'm gonna steal all your fine jewelry in the night?"
But this morning that *click* felt like I'd been punched in the gut. I can't explain why it was different this time, why I couldn't just let it go, but it was. And when I attempted to relay this to Josh and started bawling, he acted as if it was no big deal. As if his hurtful actions were the norm and I was a psycho (which I kind of am, but that's for another post).
When I couldn't handle his stale demeanor any longer, I walked into "my room," into the bathroom, closed and *clicked* the door, climbed into the empty tub, and cried. Yup. Just sat in the tub and cried like some lonely old hag who had no allies left in the world and whose husband couldn't care less.
I kept thinking to myself, "He doesn't love you, respect you, or give a half a shit about you. He's not worth your tears." But they kept coming anyway and I couldn't will myself to stop crying. The only thing that eventually calmed me was writing this post in my head (blogging is cheap therapy, for real).
Maybe I'm crazy. But maybe this is just what happens when "our guest room" becomes "his room." Or when "our family" becomes "my family." When "our bed" and "our savings" and "our plans for the future" become just mine or his.
Maybe this is just what happens when one becomes two and a life is ripped apart at the seams.