There is a sadness in me at times. I don't know what to do with it.
"Its Hormones", I tell myself. But I don't believe me. My breasts are achey and sore and I am all kinds of bitchy, but I know it isn't just the whore-moans.
My search for an apartment is exhausting. Who knew that finding a place I like and feel that my kid could grow and thrive in could be so freaking draining? Certainly not me. I swing from heady enthusiasm to abject misery with every place I look at or email or call about. Excited! Miserable! Back to Excited! Now with more moping! Gah. Even I am sick of me.
A couple of weeks ago I visited a condo which looked promising. Really promising. The location was good - nice parks, close enough to Ems school for easy transport and a nice "main street" that I love. I viewed it and came home. I had promised to pick up dinner on my way home, so I did that and weighed the next conversation with Terrance.
The "Yes, I am really moving out" conversation. Which I thought we had both agreed was good. Was best. Was the "right thing to do".
Why I didn't expect his protests, I will never know. But I didn't. I was, in fact, shocked. He recanted everything that had been said up to that point. He told me how much he loves me, that our family was the most important thing to him. That keeping our family together is the most important thing to him....but If I was set on leaving, he wouldn't stop me.
Wh-Wh-WH-WHAT? I did what any sane person would do at that moment. I burst into sobs.
"But you said you wanted to get divorced!", I heaved and hiccuped through my tears.
And then - in true Dawn and Terrance fashion - he bit into a shrimp which was hidden in his takeout Pad Thai and had to go to the emergency room. Leaving me flapping and fluttering around the house, hysterically crying and thinking "OH MY GOD I KILLED HIM WITH TAKEOUT!" and alternately mad at him for not picking up the god damn epi-pen from the last time he had an allergic reaction, and then upset because I had no liquid Benedryl in the house and I ALWAYS have liquid Benedryl in the house...
By the time he gets back, I am exhausted. Hysterical and exhausted.
Because what I want, what I crave, is this to be a joint decision. Much like we marched into marriage. But what I am getting is uncertainty. On both our parts. We waver back and forth like flames in a windstorm. How do people just do it? Just pack up one day and depart? AS much as I want this to be over, to just end so I can heal and move on, I am terrified to be without him. I love him. I just don't want to live with him anymore.