About The Husband:
OK, here’s the thing. I’m still alive and that’s a huge plus. The husband got back from his company trip and had to immediately turn around and fly to Atlanta for his cousin’s wife’s funeral. This gave me an additional two days to think about things.
When the husband got back home Sunday morning, we talked. Or rather I talked and he listened. I basically fed him the guilt trip about how I “used” to be somebody and now I’m just a lowly Mrs. Maisel, nothing but a poor, lonely housewife…how life has just passed me by when I probably could have been a somebody, but nooooo he just had to make me quit work and stuck me at home with the kids, and now I’m old and ugly and what have I got to show for it? Nothing, that’s what! Nothing. And then I went and bought this lovely drum set because it made me feel better about life in general and he comes home and what does he do? He stomps all over my dreams and rains on my parade and digs the knife in deeper letting me know just how much of a nobody, non-entity I really am. Is that any way to treat a loving and attentive wife, I asked him? Is it? A poor down trodden housewife? No, I say. No!
That’s about it. He caved. Everything’s fine and my beee-u-ti-ful drums are sitting right where they belong in one of the rooms upstairs. I still have to pay for them, though. Although I really don’t see why because I bought them with what I thought of as my money, but husband doesn’t agree and since I’m so far ahead, I thought I’d better not push it. I’ll just “forget” to pay every month and life will once again be good. Aaah.
Yeah, I know that was hitting below the belt, but then strong measures call for strong tactics.
About The Father Bastard:
I have very mixed feelings about the visit with my stupid father last Saturday. I thought it would make me feel better to let him have it, but it didn’t. I still feel a lot of anger and hate. Yeah, hate. Something I don’t do well. I had made up my mind to go and just sit there like a bump on a log and basically do and say nothing (showing my disapproval of him and the whole charade), but the more I looked at him sitting there all smiles and happy and shit, the angrier I got. And my brothers weren’t helping matters by fawning all over him like he was some kind of… some kind of… father. So I ahemmed, stood up, and announced that I had something important to say. Then, I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I hate you. You know that, don’t you?”
You could have heard a pin drop. Even the wicked witch bitch came out of the bedroom part into the sitting area of the hotel room. I told her I hated her the most. I told them both they were selfish, moronic people, and the only reason I was wasting energy hating them was because I couldn’t kill them.
So okay, that was a bit much, I have to admit. But I wanted to say that. I felt like I had to because the amount of anger I have inside…there are no words for me to describe.
Anyway, so the room went back to hushed casual conversation, and I went back to sitting in my corner. I didn’t feel better. I felt childish. I felt stupid and wished I hadn’t gone to their little reunion.
After a while, the father came over to me and tried to make conversation. I asked him, “Why did you do that? Why did you just abandon us, threw us away as if we were so much garbage?” And he said, “It’s complicated. I didn’t feel as I was throwing you away. It’s just that I knew you were all in good hands and would make your own ways in life just fine. Me, I had to ensure my old age.”
Selfish beast. May he rot in hell. No, wait. I take that back. I don’t wish anyone that; but I do wish him a miserable existence, and a not so happy afterlife.
Read Full Post »