entwined

I got a letter from Brad the other day accusing me of taking pot shots at him on my blog. It stemmed from the statement I made on my last post about his request to pay me half of what he currently does in child support and alimony (which is true, but which he has informed me he has postponed  until I am employed again.) Money has been a point of discontent with us for at least a year now. He says he pays too much, I say that as far as I'm concerned--unless he is paying me every penny he earns, which is the condition I would have been in in our marriage--it isn't too much. I am NOT looking to go after every penny he earns, I'm just saying that IS the way I feel. Money is a poor, poor substitute for the husband and full-time father that the boys and I lost, but it's all we have to fill the gap.

I think what Brad was really looking for was some praise from me--some acknowledgement  of what he has and is doing that IS good. And I can give that. Easily. Thankfully.  I know he loves his children. He has never just not shown up to get them when it's his turn to take them. He does about 98% of the picking up and dropping off. He has worked with me if we needed to change nights or weekends because of class or other obligations. I have always received birthday, Christmas, and Mothers Day gifts or cards from the kids. He tries to spend one on one time with each of the boys. So far as I know, he always speaks kindly of me to them. We treat each other with a degree of respect and civility I know is missing in a lot of divorce situations. We can be in a room together if we have to be. I'm certain a large portion of the stress he is under right now stems from the deep desire he has always had to be a good provider, which I'm sure is more difficult than ever with his money and time and efforts spread between two families.

In his own way, I know Brad is still a good man. He is good to those around him. I know he loves his family and serves generously. I think he still loves God. He is, somewhere inside, still the sweetheart I married. On the other hand, I must live with the fact that he is also the man that did terrible, horrible things to me through his deceit--who hurt me deeper than I ever imagined one person could hurt another. Who refused to try again. He made me want to end my life rather than try and go on with him here, but not with us. He nearly put out the light in me.

I will never be able to make him understand what it is to be the one left behind. To be the woman he covenanted to care for all through this life and eternity, and now be reduced to an ugly, dark burden on him--one he would love to pass off onto someone else already. What it is to ask myself every single day what I did wrong, what I could have done better, and how I could have changed things, and to find so many answers, find so many things wrong with myself, but none of them awful enough to justify having done to me what he did. Or what it is to have to shoulder the sadness and confusion of our children trying to understand what marriage and family are in the context of a broken home.  To be afraid and alone in the earthly sense. I don't think he has ever had to be afraid, or at least not alone.

I never have nor ever will never wish ill on Brad. I am glad he is happy in his new life. There are times, though they are much less often now, but times still, when I miss him. When I can still see his smiling face, and those kinds blue eyes in front of me. Times when I hear his laugh in the other room, then realize it is our  oldest son who is growing to be so much like him. Brad will always be a part of me--the companion of my young and happy years, and I am glad he is the father of my children. I wouldn't change that. I wish I could just live with those pleasant, lingering memories--and not have to keep depending on him for all I do. But I do. And I don't know what more I can do about it. I don't know how to live on less than we already do, nor how, right now, to earn more. So, for the time being, I will have to keep depending on him, and appealing to that man who cares for me--for us--the one I know still exists in some form, pleading with that portion of him to not give up quite yet.

I know there are some of you who would like to hop over to my side and say a few not-so-nice words about him at this point--but that's really, really not what I want. I don't want there to be "sides." I have never wanted there to be sides. I do want, even NEED, kind and caring support. I need to be able to write through my emotions and come out the other side. I need to know there are people who stand behind and with me, and who are cheering me on, but that doesn't have to be to Brad's detriment.


It's also never been about retribution of any kind. It's about coming to terms with my life in the present--what it is and what it is not. It is not the one I would have chosen. It is not the one I worked for. But it is. And I honestly love it. And since Brad chose not to be a part of it as my husband, I will find a way to live it in a parallel way with him.

Like a Slinky that accidentally gets all tangled up, so is trying to untangle two lives that were fully entwined for 14 years. We might be able to do it...but not easily. And not without the bent coil-type evidence to witness we were once part of each other.