Show me the exit to freedom.
There must have been love there at one point in time…. possibly…
In my case I’m not so sure. Everyone in the small town met, got engaged then married and who was I to question the process? So like a sheep I followed, to get out of the godforsaken small town, I followed the tradition.
I was happy in the early days but never fulfilled. Love LOVE l..O..v..E… Like an average burger, you don’t realize until you’ve had something else like a cracking souvalaki that there are better options to life and relationships.
I don’t mean other men but other choices. The last thing on my mind now is or will be for possibly eternity is men.
I didn’t have to get married, I didn’t have to take that road but no one told me about other roads and I never bothered to look or dare to think of other options. By the time I was aware there were other options my brain was marriage fried and a safe yet unhappy familiar place.
Once the love or in my case, once the love then like runs out you begin to question if it ever existed, question the past you choose and then question yourself. You don’t even have many memories of actual love because all you see is the emptiness you feel and drift through like a ghost hoping he doesn’t notice your existence.
You question yourself because you made promises to yourself never to make the same mistakes your parents made, or follow the f&*%ups of friends.. but you did and of course you did because you followed them. (please note when I say ‘them’ I’m talking about me… it sounds so much wiser to pretend I’m talking about someone else.)
Why do I stay?
I stay because even though he treats me the way he does, he treats me better than my father treated my mother. He doesn’t hit me or hurt me physically.
His words however do tend to cut into me and I’m not certain he knows this because I have never told him this so now it’s just an accepted form of communication. So when he says. “where are my f&^%ing socks, f%$# this life it’s crap, I hate it, nothing good ever happens to me, where the F&%$ were you, why are you late blah blah rant…” and lectures me on how I should behave, I have to sit and listen like a teenager with strict parents.
So is it his fault that I haven’t spoken up? Maybe if I did all those years ago our life could have been different together. If I stood up to him now he’d probably show me the door and I have no where to go. I’m stuck, held hostage all because I kept my mouth shut.
I see it as a shared house situation, you won’t always love your housemates but you share a house and can stay in your room or will be at work or anywhere but near them.
I actually stay because it gives me a chance to plan my next move, work out how to leave if I ever decide to leave and I’ve been doing this for over six years… deciding if it’s what I want. I know it’s not but I have no idea what I do want.
Tell me. Why do you stay with someone you no longer love? Why stay someone who doesn’t really love you either?
Scroll on down to let me know.
AND….. next post will explain why I am called the Gomez Girl.