Last night my husband all night kept asking me what was wrong. He said as soon as he walked in the door I had a scowl on my face.
And finally I said told the truth. “I Just can’t deal with what’s going on in the news- it’s too much and I don’t know what to do”
And then I went up to bed. And I layed there and remembered the text chain he has with his friends. I don’t really care for this group of men- and their thoughts on politics that he shares with me always reconfirm that.
So I asked him “Do you guys talk about this? What are they saying? Are they calling them liars?”
He assured me that they don’t bring it up and I just completely broke down. Telling my story again. Reminding him we had to move. Telling him every horrible detail not about the event but the aftermath.
He kind of just stared. He really isn’t equipped to deal with these things- especially in instances he can’t help.
He can’t save me- it happened.
He can’t make me feel better. He just has to watch as the woman he loves is torn apart again by something he couldn’t stop.
He has to watch as she tells him whenever she sees that face on the television it’s not HIS face she sees. It’s somebody else.
He has to know that she is right now in a prison that she can’t get out of. And that she is so drawn into the sadness and wreckage of her heart that she cannot stop. She says she won’t watch the news but she does. And when she doesn’t she furiously refreshes CNN on her phone.
She knows that it’s got to stop. She keeps hoping some moment will come and perhaps a catharsis will happen. That maybe there is some light at the end of the tunnel. Not for her specifcally. But for all of the survivors. Somebody honestly anybody really getting what is due.
I used to fantasize about writing him a letter. Telling him how good my life has been. Telling him that I was and always have been unaffected.
I have sense changed my mind.
I started writing him a letter this week. And instead of painting my life like a perfect picture I told him what he did.
I told him how much it destroyed me and set me on a path toward self destruction I would have not been on otherwise ( I don’t think).
I told him I don’t hate him and I do wish him well (thanks to a wonderful and wise friend for that) but I do hate the society who let it happen and let him get away with it and succeed beyond a normal citizen. I tell him that I hate the society who consistently let’s these things happen.
I told him that I didn’t even KNOW that people did what he forced me to do- and I still really can’t. Which makes me kind of an incomplete partner.
I told him- I am finally at peace and I hope he is as well. But he has to know what he did and that he had no right.
I can’t stop looking at this train wreck. I can’t stop seeing my own.
And that’s why it’s a hard time to be a survivor. Because you don’t ever actually get done with the hard part . Because when it is everywhere you are having to survive all over again.
No- this does not define me. I don’t think I let it, but it is part of me and my story. Yes- I at times let it consume me more than it should. I realize I deal with things in a completely different manner.
Maybe I keep watching, because every now and then we see somebody charged. Every now and then if you pay enough attention some man’s life is ruined as it should be for such things.
And even as I sit here typing this. I FEEL better. I feel better for saying these things. I feel better for even typing out that it is very tough out here for some of us survivors.