Alone in the room I grew up in. A bed that is unfamiliar and it’s so quiet that I can hear my every thought. No boxfan noise and the stillness is haunting me. I get out of bed, head to the porch for a cigarette or five to calm my nerves and stare at the stars for awhile. They aren’t the same in the city as they were at the house. I get back into bed, I lay in my favorite position on my back with my hands folded on my chest like I’m dead; the one where I’d turn my head and be sound asleep in 2 minutes flat… the one where I’d get my nose plugged, forcing me to gasp for air through my mouth, the one that always mad me madder than hell but made him laugh so hard. Not anymore. I can’t sleep to save my life. I’d drink but I have to work in the morning. 2 Benadryl it is. I count sheep to approximately 175 and I’m finally sleeping only to wake up, realize I’m alone, and pray to God that it was a dream or that I just wouldn’t wake up.
The smile across his face was contagious and he had a laugh that came from his belly when something was really funny. A laugh that turned his face red when I would say something ridiculous (which was almost all the time) and made him question my common sense on so many occasions. One of my favorite memories is us on the kitchen floor. He had wrestled me to the ground and started dragging me by my one pant leg. We laughed so hard, I think we cried and maybe peed our pants. He had this smell that still lingers in my nose… one of lavender laundry detergent paired with the scent of shaving cream and a little sweaty from a hard day’s work (minus the stinky vest). Doesn’t sound too appealing but to me, it was home. His embrace was nothing different. With a head that propped perfectly on top of mine everytime he pulled me close or the burrhead that nuzzled into my neck like it was meant to be there. I could barely fit my arms around him and I loved that. I’d break my neck trying to look at him while he held onto me and I loved that even more. He was selfless and more hardworking than anyone I had ever known. He did any and everything to make sure we were taken care of. If he could’ve climbed up to the sky and brought me back a star, he would have. It never mattered the cost, the inconvenience, the time, or the energy. Endless days of work, multiple positions, nights spent alone, and countless hours of dedication to his K9 training… I was grateful for the every single ounce of it and prouder than I could express. To see him excel at what he loved made me beam with pride. He was my husband, my life, my joy, my world. And aside from all that we have endured, he still is. I hope he knows that.
Just as the leaves fall from their trees, we have fallen from the promises that we made to each other. I can only speak from my end when I say that I still believe in us and our marriage. That we can weather anything that life throws at us as long as we weather it together. That redefining us will be hard work but it’s work that I’m willing to put forth with tremendous effort. That giving up on each other is not an option. That hurt people hurt people and that is what we have done. That our love still exists.
And although I believe all of these things, there comes a time when holding on for dear life hurts far worse than letting the rope slip from your grasp. When cigarettes and alcohol no longer serve as a crutch. When you realize that you can’t fix this and that’s okay. I feel like I’m digging myself out of the trenches day by day but with the help of some fantastic people, I am learning how to dig (and deal) appropriately. I cannot let my happiness hinge on the presence or absence of one person. And as I have come to find, you cannot pour into someone else unless your own cup is full. I am human, I have made many mistakes that have brought me to where I am currently but I will say this, the absolute best choice I ever made was marrying my husband. That was never a mistake in my eyes. It hasn’t been fun, it hasn’t been easy, but through it all, there is no place I’d rather be than in our home, in our bed, wrapped up in each and losing track of the night like we used to. But I know that’s a thing of the past. And the past cannot linger in my mind forever.
When I close my eyes, bow my head, and talk to God everynight, you are at the center of my words right after I thank Him for getting me through yet another day. I pray for your happiness and that you find peace. I pray that you are safe at work and that you return home everynight. I pray that you surrender to the feelings that I know are in the depths of your heart. I pray that God has brought a woman into your life that gives you all the things I couldn’t and that you have the family that you always wanted. I pray that you smile again, even if it’s not because of me. Finally, I pray that God brings you back to me should that be His will. Because as it always does, miracles happen right when you are about to give up.
This is me, giving up and letting go.
Tomorrow will be better, I just have to get through another night…alone in the room I grew up in, in an unfamiliar bed where it’s so quiet that I can hear my thoughts. This time, I tell them that you are gone for good, I think of you with love and light, and I roll over.
Just Jena Elizabeth 