Saturday, March 26, 2011

Making love on Friday night, then making war on Saturday!

Well, here I am again, and I honestly don't know how to feel at the moment.  Thursday night was an exhale type of experience for me because I was able to vent to my bestie, Ms. Victoria!!  I felt so good afterwards.  The biggest relief for me was finally being able to tell someone how my husband's ex-wife had told me almost eight years ago that she hated me and that if I were to die she wouldn't care, nor would she care how my parents felt.  For someone to direct words of that nature towards you is earth shattering.  I never did anything for her to say that to me.  She was upset because she thought that I had told my husband that she was cheating on him, but I never said anything close to that.  My husband already knew of all of the dirt that she was doing, but he chose to stay with her in any case.  If I had told him anything, it would not have come as a surprise to him.   

The next night, Friday night, was awesome for my husband and I.  We had an extremely passionate love making session.  He loves when I am on top of him, and I love it just as much.  And afterwards, even when we both are dog tired, he still slides me to the edge of the bed, gets down on his knees, and, well, you know (sorry for t.m.i.)!  LOL!  But it was fantastic.  It is nothing like making love so good to the point where you feel like or actually start crying.  Unfortunately the next morning all hell broke loose.  I'm not even sure what happened.  My husband has a habit of asking me what is wrong every five minutes if I happen to be quiet.  Granted, we both love to talk, but sometimes I feel like being quiet.  He'll keep asking me and asking me what is wrong, and each time I tell him nothing, but my answers are never good enough for him.  We went and had breakfast with our son, did a little shopping, and returned home.  I did my hair, and he cut our son's hair.  Our son and I took a nice nap while my husband went to the grocery store.  When I woke up, my husband was cooking dinner.  He was frying catfish, and although I love catfish, I wasn't in the mood for it at the time, so I fixed a sandwich.  Of course this made my husband upset.  So the next thing I know, I go to take a bite of the sandwich, and my husband picks it up and throws it in the garbage.  Okay, I am a sucker for fried red link sandwiches, so when he did this, I flew into a rage.  I grabbed the catfish that he fried, picked it up, and threw it on him.  (Victoria, I know you are rolling on the floor laughing because I am laughing while I am typing this)!  He chased me in the bedroom, and I went Bernadine on his ass (minus the gasoline and fire).  I ripped every single piece of clothing he owns out of the closet and threw it on the floor (go on the floor)!  I ran the bathtub and filled it up with water, then I threw some of his clothing in it (I hope his leather vest eventually dries).  I went back to the kitchen and grabbed every single cleaning product I could find, but my husband had had enough.  He pushed me in the closet and I damn near knocked the ironing board down.  Every time I tried to stand up, he pushed me back down.  Oh, did I mention that our son was oblivious to everything that was going on because he was in the living room watching and imitating the Power Rangers?  Anyway, we scuffled for a little bit, and then I headed down to the basement to start getting his belongings and loading it on his pick-up truck.  Again, my husband was not trying to hear this.  I damn near destroyed the work bench that he built a few weeks ago (actually, it destroyed me because I still have that damn splinter in my pinkie).  After this fiasco, I broke down crying and told him that I was done.  I told him that I couldn't take it anymore and that I wanted  I lout.  I accused him of being in love with his ex, and I asked him to leave, and of course he refused.  He kept telling me to call the police, and I couldn't help but think that this would have been a classic episode of C.O.P.S.  (I've been captured by the Germans).  He knows I wouldn't call the police on him unless it was absolutely necessary.  My mother called in the midst of it all, and we both told her our sides of the story.  My mother is not one to take sides, and she let us both know that we were wrong.  After calming down, I snuck and ate some catfish, and took my husband's clothes out of the bathtub.  I was so pissed that some of the clothes I had grabbed were my own, but oh well.  I looked up and it was already 8:15 p. m.  I had to lay down and take a nap before work, but of course I tossed and turned and kept calling my husband in the bedroom so that we could talk.  Our son was passed out, and although my husband and I talked, we both still felt so empty inside.  I left for work in a raging storm.  I was actually about 15 minutes late (along with everyone else) but the weather was treacherous.  I called my husband once I arrived in my housing unit and we talked for a little over an hour.  He told me that he loves me with all of his heart and he wants our marriage to work out.  He also told me that he absolutely does not love his ex, and I know that he doesn't.  The bottom line is that I need to let go of the past.  Yes, she said those horrible things to me, but that just mimics the type of person that she is.  I think another thing that bothers me is that I wanted my husband to go to bat for me after I informed him of what she said to me.  I know that he asked her why she said those things to me, and for years she denied it.  When she finally admitted to him why she said those things, she said that it was because she was upset.  But damn?  I could see if I harmed someone that she was close to or disfigured her face.  I didn't expect my husband to hate her for saying that, but I think he could have gotten on her case a lot more than what he did, seeing as though I was his best friend.  And for years, every time they did something together (all of the cruises, trips to Florida, New York, Cancun, etc.) I could help but felt a twang of hurt in my heart because it seemed like they both moved on with their lives without so much as a thought of me and how her words affected me.  But it's okay, because I believe that I will eventually be able to say that I got the last laugh.  And after all that my husband did for her, after six months of marriage, she showed him the door.  Another example of her heartlessness is that she cussed my husband out the day that he found out that his mother had died from complications due to a car accident because no one informed her of the date of her funeral, which was held two days previous to their conversation.  If she couldn't reach my husband to inquire about the funeral, she could have contacted any one of his sisters or his brother, since they supposedly love her so much.  But no one was thinking about her, and I think that is why she got so angry.  She wanted to be at the forefront of every ones mind, but that is no longer the case.  Oh well.  She was just mad about not going because she wanted to steal the show, but she ended up exactly where she should have been all along...at home.  I refuse to let her bog me down anymore.  Enough is enough.  I am married to a wonderful man, a man that she no longer had a need for.  I know that I have gotten over the words that she said to me, but I just have to get over cringing every time I hear her name.  

I love my husband, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to make this marriage work and last.  I know that the odds are against us, and being married is the hardest thing I have ever done besides watching my baby fight for his life in an incubator. 

Everything is going to work itself out, I"m sure of it.  Now, I'm hoping that when our son takes his nap later on this afternoon, and before my husband ventures off to work, I can do a nice rodeo number on him, and he can slide me to the edge of the bed.  I'm sure all of that will happen once I pick his clothes up off of the floor!!!  LMBO!!!  Till next time.............