I love people who think forgiveness is easy…you just decide to forgive and BAM it’s done. Magic fairies fly out of your ass with their wands, a couple of waves, a little magic fairy dust and you have forgiveness in your heart. I keep checking and checking but I don’t have any fairies up my ass.
I want to forgive, more than anything I WANT TO FORGIVE…I can’t yet and I wish I could. I struggle with the knowledge of his actions, of his selfishness. I struggle with the knowledge of his knowing the whole time what he was doing would destroy not only me but our kids.
In some days I tell myself “He is just a man”, and I grant him an excuse for his actions. I excused him because I let him be selfish and self-absorbed, to concentrate on his career, his hobbies before our family. I let him be the fun parent, the part-time father while I immersed myself in our family. I became the adult in his world, making sure his needs were met, and life ran smooth. All he had to do was go to work.
He would often tell me “I’ll trade you!!” when I would complain of doctoring animals, chasing kids, and being tired. I would shut up, because I knew the sacrifices he made working away from home…how lonely and hard it would be.
Am I bitter now of the lies he told? Of the ways he got to spend his nights? Going to bars, having dinners with a whore, playing house while I was tending his real house? I want to ‘play’ house where there isn’t dirty laundry, dirty dishes, sick kids, constant bills, kids with needs, chores every day…I want to get off work at 5 and go play pretend…I want to be able to live a fantasy for months at a time instead of constantly living in reality.
I want to go back in time and when he’s being his asshole self and he smarts off “I’ll trade you!!” I will reply “Okay!!” and when he hangs up on me and goes to make dinner for the whore, his doorbell rings. The look on his face as he answered the door and standing there are his three teenage sons. One holds Lou, another has calves and pigs herded in the corner, and the third holds a big stack of bills.
“Where is your mom?” He would say in disbelief.
“She got a job” My oldest would say with a smirk, handing him a tired and crying Lou.
“And a boyfriend…” My youngest son would say with a laugh, brushing past his dad,” What’s for supper?”
“You figure out what to do with these,” my middle son let the animals scatter while stomping past in muddy shoes, leaving tracks across his apartment floor he hands his dad a note.
My husbands face turn red in anger as he sees the chaos in his life. He unfolds the note and reads the words written in red sharpie…
“Tell me when you want to trade back…have fun!!”
Maybe if I could have had a little revenge? Maybe if he could have traded me? Maybe if he hadn’t traded our happiness for his own? Maybe if he hasn’t slept with a whore?
Maybe I could forgive easier…Maybe??