Monday, April 2, 2012


Her eyes shut and as she drifts away, she is floating.  She can see light grey around the edges, working it's way to the center, then she hears a mans voice, clear and determined say "Jan".

Her eyes fly open, her breath stops.  She immediately puts her hand on the device in her chest, feels to see if it is moving, buzzing, doing anything.  "Shit, I won't be able to feel it, will I?".  It had been feeling weird tonight, that flipping thing, that pacemaker that she calls her "Maybelline Compact".  It is a big bitch.

So, now she is awake.  Again, and tears slide down her face, getting caught in her hair.  She turns her face toward the little fan on a stand that she keeps on her bed side table, seeking to have moving air on her face, she is sweating and broken, yet again.

Whose voice was that?  Was it her dad?  No, no, did not sound like him.  She strains to hear it, it has not quite faded yet.  She closes her eyes and opens them slowly, staring at the ceiling, like every single night of her life for the past four years.  Her heart is chucking and jiving, just dancing around in her chest.  She hates it.  She wishes it would just stop jumping, boogying.  God damn it.  Stop.

She starts to cry in earnest, when she opens her eyes, the light show begins.  As her eyes open it is like the upper lid is sweeping across the ceiling and walls with little lights in the lashes.  No matter how many times she opens and closes her eyes, the affect is the same.  It is like that every night.

She thinks, "every night, forever, I will be awake.  I will think about heart break, loss and crap.  Sleep will elude me, and I will just die.."  She feels like she is slowly dying, but the curious thing is  she is not that scared.  Dying has become an obsession, She has ridden a roller coaster of fear off and on since He told her about his double life five years ago.

If anyone would ever have told her that you really, truly can lay awake all night long, she would not have believed it.  But, you can.

If she lays on her right side, the "thing" is comfortable but she will inevitably snore herself awake, something is deviated or something up in there.  But, if she lay on her left side, with her man made boobs smashed together, she can feel the irregularity of her heart really well, if it is acting up.  And at bed time it seems to be at it's worst.  Don't know why.  Asshole thing.

So, he awakens, his alarm goes off, and he stirs.  She scooches up to him, they entertwine and offer each other comfort and peace for the few minutes that they have.  But all too soon he goes off to kill the fatted calf for their food, ie: work for the man.  She loves him, has since the minute she saw him, but she is so confused about him.  She is angry over what he did to their life.  Not what he did to her, what he did to them, both of them.  He led a double life, he has been a horrible person.  Confession may be good for the soul, but not for hers.  When he leaves, she can finally go to sleep.  Like every other day.

1 comment:

  1. Jan, This is Lexie and I read your post just now on MTASA. I do not respond on there any longer, but I do read from time to time and I just wanted to say that my heart goes out to you. I simply cannot believe the depths of your betrayals.

    at this point I've said everything there pretty much is to say about this disease. Your husband is one of the worst, however, IMO. I know that there's no comfort in hearing that, only that he obviously gets off on destroying everyone's lives-- including his own. He's a sociopath; a misogynist, honey. He hates ALL women and seeks to control and have power over them at any cost.

    it is not about sex or love or anything like that. He cannot love because he is incapable of having this or any kind of REAL emotion, whatsoever...except for himself. awww... another tell is when a man cries and BEGS to be given another chance. What the hell for? This isn't a baseball game. As for the women... not that you should feel sorry for them, but they are victims too...ahhhh... well, he knows just what to say to entrap them into his sick lair. He toys with them like a cat with a mouse and casts a spell over them the likes of which...until he's bored and cheats on them too... I mean, who is he? James Bond? Ha! I dare say not, so what IS it?

    its all a con. His entire life is fake and phony and I am positive that there's a special place in hell waiting for him. not that he's not already there. believe that, for its true.

    he has no soul, Jan.

    please know that there was nothing you could have done or SHOULD HAVE DONE, OR KNOWN, or done anything any differently from what you did.

    I know, that concept has been hard for me too... the what ifs... toss them aside. focus on your five beautiful DAUGHTERS that you would not have had if it wasn't for him. Leave him be. he's hopeless.

    take care of you. I realize that you are sick, but rest. heel. rest your mind and your soul.

    Do you have a therapist? Have you tried EMDR therapy? meditation? Oh honey, I so wish I could take your pain away, if only for an hour. How well I understand.

    you did nothing wrong. there is never any sin in loving.

    it was just rotten bad luck... I am praying for you. I do not know you or your husband... I have no other motive than to reach out to another sister in pain...

    my love is pure. take it and feel blessed, for you are... Lexie