Monday, February 13, 2006

...

The minute my car door closed I was bawling. I wailed and sobbed and tears streamed down my face as I drove home. I thought what a loser I was that I couldn't deal with this and stay at work. I thought that the whole reason we're here in Sean's parents' house is my fault, because I don't make enough money for us to buy our own place. I thought that I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make more money. I don't know how to get a job that pays enough. I don't know how to get clients who will pay me enough.

When I got home I warmed up last night's leftovers and stood and ate them in the kitchen and thought that if Sean had never married me, he would be better off. He wouldn't have moved into that apartment. He wouldn't have lost all his stuff.

And if we hadn't gotten married I might have gotten a real job when I finished college. I might not be such a total fucking loser. And I wouldn't have lost all my stuff.

But I was selfish and stupid and wanted to get married right away.

Sean was in the shower. I wanted to hide from him. I didn't want him to know I was here instead of out working, getting the money we need. But I also wanted to apologize to him for not being a good enough wife. If I was stronger I could handle this. I could get the work I need to get. I could figure out a plan. I could deal with the setbacks in my life. But I'm a wimp who always wants to run away, who gets overwhelmed and can't even handle getting up in the morning and going to work. I'm so pathetic that all I want is to run home to my mom.

Cheryl said before that if we were going to stay here another six months that I had to get a job and that there would be "no more trips to Kentucky" that waste our money. I was mad at the time that she was treating me like a child, but maybe that's all I deserve.

There wasn't a good place to hide, and I didn't feel like I had the right to hide. I felt like I should come clean with Sean, that he should know what a horrible loser he married. So I curled up in the bed and waited for him.

I could hear him moving around the room as he got ready to go to work. Finally he pulled the covers back so he could see my face and give me a kiss, and he said, "Bye, baby."

"Bye," I said in a voice that shook too much.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," I said, and covered my eyes.

"Did you have a fight with Robert?"

"No," I sobbed, "I'm just stupid."

"You're having a mood swing?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, honey. Get some sleep. Next time you see your doctor, tell her you're having mood swings."

"Okay."

I reached up to him and he hugged me tight and then he left for work.

I wish I was good enough for him.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love you, Heather.

Jered said...

You're not a loser. A loser couldn't inspire me to not settle for 'good enough'. A loser couldn't make me smile every time they came up in conversation with other people. A loser couldn't make me realize when I was being an idiot, or a jerk, or some horrible combination of the two. And most definitely I couldn't look up to a loser, so, I think it's pretty clear that you aren't one.

Even when you think you're being weak, you're being strong, and giving the rest of us who spend all our time running without looking back a good lesson on standing your ground. Cheers, Heather, you deserve all the good things in your life, and if any one of us will figure out how to trim the bad, it'll be you.

Anonymous said...

*big hug*

Dawn