Home » A Wasted Life » Getting Ready To Leave

Getting Ready To Leave

I didn’t think I’d have any problem selling my house, so I started packing a few things.  I ran across things that J*** had given to me or things that belonged to him and I started separating them.  I intended to return everything.  I went through my scrapbooks and got every single card and note that J*** had ever given to me, tore them up and put them in the box.  I got every picture I had of him and threw them in the box.  I still had pictures of us together and I tore the side with me on it off.  I had made a wall hanging from a picture of me, J*** and B***** when we were at H******.  I was going to throw it away but offered it to K**** and she took it.
I threw in the little necklaces and teddy bears that had come with the flowers he was sending me when he was trying to buy my forgiveness as well as the vases the flowers had come in.  He had gotten me a t-shirt that said “you’ll shoot your eye out” because we both loved the movie “A Christmas Story.”  I threw that in the box.  I’ll never be able to watch that movie again.
I sold a few things, like the treadle sewing machine that he had gotten me for our eighteenth anniversary.  I thought it might make me sad to see it leave the house, but it didn’t.
He had literally slaughtered so many things in my life.  He hadn’t died.  He had just betrayed me over and over so there was absolutely no sentimentality attached to any of those things.
He had broken my spirit ten years earlier but I had managed to glue myself back together for a while.  Now, he had all but destroyed it. There’s nothing deader than a dead spirit.  Spiritual, mental and emotional death is such a fixed part of my life now that I am no longer mournful.  It’s just become a way of life for me.
If I didn’t have that remarkable, despicable memory, I could be just like him.  He never remembers anything so he never has to feel guilty about anything…but…ah, he’s missing out on wonderful memories that are forever lost to him.
Even though he hated my memory, now and then he would tell me that he wished he had it.  He wanted to remember all the stories that his daddy had told him.
I could recount them for him, verbatim…like the boy (I even remember his name and I remember why) who kicked his daddy when his pilonidal cyst was acting up…or the time his brother J** came home drunk and ran the car into a tree…and all the escapades his daddy had as a little boy.
J*** will never hear those stories again and they will now live only in my memory until I put them into a small, insignificant box and toss them into oblivion…along with J***.
All I had to do now was get rid of his name.  He said that it might be easier for me if I kept it.  Did he really think that I was going to keep his name?  I’m sure he thought I should be honored to keep it.  I regretted that my children had to carry it but I didn’t and wouldn’t.
I still sometimes get mail with that name on it.  I don’t know if it’s anger or nausea that strikes me when I see it.  I believe it’s a combination of both.
I had asked him to return his wedding ring and the quilts that I had made for him but he didn’t want to.  I told him that I didn’t want them to “conveniently disappear.”
I reminded him that when I asked if I could have his first wifes’ ring to make into something else, he said “you can throw it away for all I care.”
He said he would give his ring to K**** but he wasn’t going to return the quilts.  He said they were “his most prized possession.”
I thought his most prized possession was his attachment.  I told him that since she was “going to college” maybe she could enroll in a sewing class and then she could make him some quilts.
My view is that he didn’t deserve to have them when I made them and he certainly didn’t deserve to have them now.  I figure they will probably “get lost in a move” and end up at the nearest Goodwill store.  Since he doesn’t remember anything and notices even less, he wouldn’t even miss them until years from now, if ever.
The next time he came down, he brought the ring but not the quilts.  We went to the little place up the street to have lunch.  He looked at me and said “you know…you are clearly insane.”
That’s interesting.  There have been three “main” women in J***s’ life.  First there was B***, then his first wife and then me.  B*** left him, probably after P**** (who was then his fiance) showed up unexpectedly and decided to stay.  After B*** left him, she was “absolutely crazy.”  After P**** left him, she was “a nut job who wanted to be married to her father.”  After I left him, I was “clearly insane.”
I wonder if it ever occurred to J*** that he either has a knack for attracting “insane women” or possibly…just possibly, there is a flaw in his character.  “Everybody who leaves J*** H*** is insane?”  There has to be a reason his women kept leaving him.  Maybe it’s because none of us were with him for his money.
Betrayal and countless other faults can be overlooked and forgiven…for financial security.
R*** kept telling me that I was “crazy” and “made up the craziest stories.”  J*** is telling me that I’m clearly insane.  J*** and R*** both have fearless dominance.  They have self-centered proclivities and being pure egotists, they blame others for their mistakes.  It was my fault that the family was fractured because I wouldn’t tolerate R***s’ drunkenness.  It was my fault that J*** cheated on me.  It was my fault when J***  cheated on his attachment.  God knows, neither one of them did anything wrong.  These traits are the mark of  a true sociopath.
I didn’t care what J*** said or thought because that “caring” had long since passed and the tighter that attachments’ grip became, the more vicious his attacks became.  He could rave all he wanted.
Since this was going to be the last year that we were going to file joint tax returns, J*** was anxious for all of my information.  I kept very good records so it wasn’t going to be a problem getting them together.  He had always waited until the last minute to do the taxes but said he wanted to get them done earlier this year.
He asked me if I could get everything to him by the week-end.  I told him I had been really sick but promised that I would do my best.  I worked all week-end, gathering information and sending it to him.
I didn’t hear anything from him and wondered why he was in such a rush if he wasn’t going to even acknowledge that he had received them.
I understood when I got yet another picture and message.  It was a nice picture (the same…the attachments’ arm wrapped tightly around J***s’) and the message said “we’re having a wonderful time in Myrtle Beach.” 🙂
He was pressuring me to get things done so he could relax and take his attachment to Myrtle Beach?  What a guy!
I finally said something to him about it.
N**** had seen the pictures and notes but J*** wasn’t going to believe it for one minute.  It was much easier to blame somebody in my family than admit the possibility that they were coming from the person I think they were coming from.  Even if he knew (and I’m not convinced he didn’t), he would dismiss it after being easily manipulated…not to mention the huge ego boost it was.
WATER SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL and so do some people, so what more needs to be said?
Word got out that I was selling my house.  Even J*** found out.  He said “you know how I knew you were selling your house?  I googled it to see how much it was worth (for the divorce) and saw the listing.”
I told everybody (including J***) that I was going to put everything in storage and then “travel.”  There are places that I have always wanted to go and things I have always wanted to see, so I “pretended” that was what I was going to do.  I had always wanted to go to Las Vegas and J*** promised to take me but he never did.  He’s been several times and I imagine he’ll go again, but he won’t be taking me.
J*** wanted more information about where I was going and what I was going to do.  When he had visited before, I mentioned that I would like to just “disappear.”  He looked at me and said “you don’t think I can find you?”
He had always known where P**** is.  Now, he had finally found out where B*** is, although it only took him forty years.  He didn’t find her on my watch.  He found her on his attachments’ watch.  I imagine he found her during one of his marathon “bathroom visits.”  Unless he has changed drastically, his attachment wouldn’t be allowed in the bathroom during one of those visits.  I wonder what she would think if she knew that he was secretly “looking for another woman” while she was in the next room?
Maybe while she was posting all of her “broken-hearted” sayings on social media about her married lover betraying her, somebody should have posted one for her to read.  “If someone cheats with you, they will cheat on you.”  But that already happened, didn’t it?  I wonder why she didn’t care?
It must be true love……..of something.

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