I've Heard the Stories

It took a while, but I started hearing the stories.  Lashing out in public with bigoted remarks; fighting with police officers.  Trying to beat up your husband when you were far too drunk to stand.

I heard the story about how you left when you went back to school.  How you couldn't study your art living so close to him.  How you expected him to be able to take care of everything and not grieve your departure. How you moved back, but into the apartment next door; later out of the apartment, but into a separate bedroom.  Yet, then, you two still occasionally felt the strong desire of years of physical love.

I heard the more he adapted to your abandonment, the angrier you became.  Like a moth trapped in a spiders' web, the more you fought the more you became stuck in the web of your own doing.

I heard the story about how you took a butcher knife and disemboweled his meditation pillow as if it were the heart and soul of your deteriorating marriage.  I heard the story of the friends who provided him creature comforts when everything he had built his life around was physically threatened.

I heard how he left the house with nothing but the clothes on his body, a pillow and a sleeping bag.

I've been there when you pounded the windows, relentlessly, for hours. I've been around to hear you screaming on the phone, threatening to call the police because we were cooking together. I helped him when he lent you his car and you refused to return it for days; sometimes weeks.

I was there twice when you pinned me in the apartment with your car.  And, actually, it was your sister-in-law's car.  I cleaned up the mess when you covered both our cars in dog shit the frosty night before Easter 2008.

You have terrorized him for years.  You have tried to terrorize me for a while.  He worked so hard to build that life with you and you tore it down.

Although you terrorized us both, I did what was possible to help. I cared about you because I care about him.  I'm not there for him now, but I will be there for him for the court proceedings...as will every person that I know that can speak to his goodness, kindness and humanity.

You had everything.  After you left; even after he left he continued to provide you everything you could have possibly needed to the exclusion of everyone; including me.  Still, you relentlessly pushed all of the good support you could have had away.  I'm not there anymore; I'm not sure he's there any more.  I don't know.  We don't talk.  We aren't walking in the same world these days.

I want you to understand: we do create the world we live in through our actions and intentions.   It takes two people to intentionally live in harmony as lovers.  It takes only one person to destroy that.  You created the angry world you now live in.  You did. You're there all by yourself.

Happy anniversary to you.  Happy. Anniversary. To. You.