There is only peace in the quiet when we believe that the sound will return.
Once a week we used to carpool. Today was that day. Today was the first time in four years that you didn’t drop me off at work, tell you me you loved me and that you’d see me at 4pm. I miss our routine… but the truth is that’s what got us to where we are now. After having lost everything and then having the chance to get into a rental home of our own, I think we just worked fast and hard to get back to what we used to have.
I was proud of myself for making the most of our budget and learning how to use coupons to get a box of name-brand cereal for $1.50. I was proud that thanks to coupons, we had not paid for toothpaste in over a year. I felt proudest when I could take four random ingredients from the cabinet and make something delicious & satisfying for my husband. I thought that I was making you happy and proud of me too. But really, I was just making an existence.
Everyone on the outside saw me as strong as I persevered through each day to keep a life for us. What people saw was the constant force in me that shouted S U R V I V E and I did. But in that, someone and something else didn’t—my husband and my marriage. I am by no means making excuses for you or even excusing the decision you made. Truth is, you made a choice and now there are consequences. You claimed there was no spark with us anymore. Well, your spark created a fire with someone else that you have to deal with now… and all you had to do was fan the flame at home. I recognize that we did probably sometimes function like roommates and fall into a routine. I accept that, but make no bones about it, I do not by any means think that gave you an excuse to go out and have an affair.
It’s late now and I purposely put off going to bed, our bed. Rest does not come easy nor does it last long. Remember how you used to read to me? I loved the sound of your voice as I fell asleep. Last night, I put on the audio read of Psalm 119 just to have the sense that someone was there with me reading me to sleep. Max McLean and I may develop a relationship through Psalm 119. I’d rather it be you. For three thousand nights, you wished me good night and now nothing. Oh how I wish I had not taken them for granted.