GothGeek's Musings

This has been a strange, strange week.

Actually, things have been nothing but strange, hectic, and difficult since we got back. +Kyle and I have fought more than ever for weeks. I flipflop on how I feel, and what I think I'm capable of right now. He flipflops on whether or not to kick me out or hold onto me for dear life.

He's threatened to kill himself over me leaving twice this week...this after telling me to get out if I don't want him for him *now*. The last time (I guess it was Thursday) resulted in me getting pretty bruised and slightly cut up from wrestling his 1911 away from him, then his knife, then trying to wear him out hiding the gun in pieces so he couldn't use it. I actually remembered to take the bullet out of the chamber this time, but I couldn't get the safety off to actually do it. This is the pistol he built, and the safety is really tight. I let him believe I threw the gun under the stairs to buy some time, but since it wouldn't budge, I had to hide it. So we played, "Where's the gun? What did you do with it?" for about an hour. This is a fun game where I say nothing and he makes various threats to my bodily health and happiness to try to get me to talk. It's not fun getting tapped in the face with a flashlight, waiting for the blow that's going to cave in part of it.

So after about two hours, and another session of insane laughter at nothing funny, he got to the point of realizing just what he was doing, and stopped. He swears this was the last time. Never again. It sure as hell is the last time. I can't do this anymore. Love puts up with a lot, but it's not stupid, either.

I should note here that he had unplugged the phone and thrown it somewhere so I couldn't call the police, and I wasn't about to leave him alone in the house long enough to find a neighbor who would get up at that hour.

Lots of talking afterward. I don't remember what about, but we calmed down for the time being.

So Friday, we went out, despite having had quite the argument. Much the same topic. I'm not in love with him *now*, so I should just leave. We *had* to go out, because +Kyle needed to pick up his check, and we needed groceries, but also we had been planning to go to the mall all week, just to get out of the house. Now, the last time we'd talked about it, he'd mentioned just going alone. I thought that was a good idea. But we get to Friday, and when I don't want to go, still thinking it a good idea for him to try things without me, he sulks, provoking the argument.

So I ended up going anyway. We went to the mall, obtained Sakkio and then bummed around separately. Ran into each other a couple of times. Decided to leave, and in the car, he asked what kind of a break I wanted. I said I'd been thinking it might be a good idea for me to move out for a couple of months. No, that's not acceptable. If I leave for any amount of time, he'll find me with divorce papers.

So I left that alone, and we drove along to see if Formosa was still around. Someone allegedly found a cat's tooth in their chicken one time around November of last year. I smell conspiracy, because they were planning on a remodel, and had closed for it around that time. It's now something like Fortune Chinese Buffet, and I hope it's run by the same people, because their food was the absolute best. Maybe it really was cat, but if so, I'd live on it. :P Animals taste good.

So we went to Toys R Us afterward just to look around, and avoid going back to the house right away. More separate browsing. I was looking at CDs and games, and +Kyle came up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, but, can I take you out for coffee?" I didn't get what he was doing, but accepted and linked arms with him. He asked if I was that close with everyone, or if he was just that good. I started to understand, and said I was just that affectionate, and he was kinda cute.

So he started talking about his wife and how he was feeling neglected and they were having a lot of problems, etc. We went down to Barnes and Noble since there's a Starbucks, got frappuccinos and sat down and talked about our respective situations. It was interesting talking about him like he wasn't there, and hearing his take on things I have done. We speculated about each other's spouses and the reasons they might do the things they do. Maybe he didn't understand that his reactions to her "health craze" was actually destructive. Maybe she doesn't want to tell him about things that bother her, because it'll mean she's nagging, etc. "I know that's something I tend to do," type speculation.

It was an interesting approach, but I still didn't understand exactly his reasoning behind it. He kept saying things like, "Maybe I just need to let her go...give her the space she's looking for." I'm sitting here going, "He finally gets it!" He said that he didn't know how things were going to work out with his wife, but that he liked me and would like to spend some time with me, maybe going out on the weekends or something.

To me, that sounds like someone who has resigned themself to the fact that they can't be with the person they love for whatever reason. Perhaps I only think this way because it's what I've had to do.

But no...when we got back to the house, and I 'crashed at his place', he decided he wanted to talk about the evening. I really didn't think it a good idea, but agreed to against my better judgment.

It turned out that he was trying to start over with no baggage. Good idea, perhaps, but he was still trying to force something that isn't there, which only frustrated matters more. THEN he turned around and asked, "Will you marry me?" Did he really expect me to say yes?

I tried, I really did, to be calm and explain why this wasn't a helpful situation, but it just deteriorated. He started praying for me to be healed from our fight, and for our marriage to be restored. I didn't even say an amen. I was too beyond frustrated and exhausted to know if I really agreed, and am I going to lie about it? Not even.

So yesterday we muddled along after yet another fight before he went to work. He said, "If you don't want me for me...don't be here when I get back." So I tried to find somewhere to go with no luck. Called Mary. No answer. Called Pam. No answer. Got on LJ to see if anyone was even on that I could talk to. Des replied, but she was going out to help Jason, and she's been sick anyway, so I wouldn't want to burden her with this right now.

So I debated what to do at all, and, still being mentally exhausted, I took a nap on the couch. Most of my stuff is packed, and he didn't say I should take everything...just to not be there. The problem being that I had nowhere to go, I left messages and waited for some reply. Pam called around 6:00, and we talked for a long time about what's been going on. I came to some disturbing conclusions, the largest of which is that, even though I didn't sleep with anyone else, I'm still an adulteress in this. Emotional lust is still lust. Wanting what's not rightfully yours in the stead of what is yours. We talked about other things, like what's helped her in her marriage, their struggles with mental problems. Granted, she's never had to deal with physical abuse, but their problems have been dreadful.

She did tell me something that I think I finally get. I asked her, "How much is 'a lot'?" She said she thought I knew, but honestly, I didn't. She said that there comes a point where you have to ask if you've truly done everything you can for this person, and when you get to that point, you have to remember that the choices they make are THEIR choices. She said I am not responsible for the things +Kyle does. She said it was a hard lesson for her to learn that she was not responsible for the times when Gg made self-damaging choices, but eventually she learned it.

I'm at that point.

I told her about the things that +Kyle has changed so drastically to try to make this work. Yes, it was all based on hope and perhaps some faith, but he did get a job. He hates it, but he's said he'll stick with it as long as it takes. He found us a place to live. She expressed consternation on the timing of it, my stress level, and the fact that we have NO money.

I had seriously thought about staying in Oklahoma for a couple more weeks, just to keep drawing a paycheck and get things going that much more easily. She said that could have been a good idea. The problem was that +Kyle has always said if I stayed behind, or leave him, it's for good. So far I haven't been able to, in good conscience, do that. And the few times I've taken him at his word, it's resulted in him begging me to stay in some way or another.

I have, up to this point, been operating under the belief that it's possible that I could learn to love +Kyle again. I've come to realize that's impossible until my feelings for Scooter fade to a sufficiently "friendly" level. I don't know how long that's going to take, or honestly, if it will happen at all. Until that happens, all I have to hang onto is my desire to do what's right in spite of what I want. I've tried to explain this to +Kyle on numerous occasions, but only last night did he *get* it. Now all of a sudden, he's willing to wait. I guess he sees a ray of hope in this. I'm not there yet. I'm still hurting from this.

+Kyle has gone over time and time again how he's hurting too. I know he's hurting. It's kindof my fault that he's hurting. He reminds me constantly how we shouldn't even be here - I'm punishing him by making him wait for me to love him like I should, being that he's my husband and all. I've explained time and time again that it's not intentional. It never has been. Well...I can't say that...but it didn't start that way. I was starving for something, didn't know how to get it , and when it came along by accident, I held on with both hands, even when the voice in the back of my mind said, "You really don't need to be here." By then, I didn't care anymore because I was happy, and +Kyle didn't seem to mind since I was finally less melancholy.

Until of course it got to the point where I gave my heart, which I had so carefully locked away from +Kyle to keep from getting hurt anymore, to someone to whom I had no right. Then I got more depressed than before.

Still operating under this belief that it may be possible to be happy with +Kyle again, I've had to stop talking to Scooter at all, even as a friend. At least for awhile. It's so draining on me. I know we can't be anything more than friends, and I can't keep expending energy on something for which hope must be postponed indefinitely. Even if +Kyle and I do wind up separating, I'll have no choice but to be alone, because the woman at the well was forgiven...but told to go and sin no more. If I want to do the right thing, I have to play by the rules...even though it hurts like hell. I have explained this to them both as best I know how, but I don't think either one really understands.

Scooter has always said my happiness is the most important thing to him. If I can be happy with +Kyle, that's what he wants for me. If I can't be happy unless we're apart, that's what he wants for me. Yet, he will wait to the end of his days for a chance to be with me if possible. That is a great source of pain for me in this, too, because I let things go so far.

I can't help that we grew to love each other so deeply. I should have told him I feared where this was going much sooner than I did. And when I actually realized where it was going, I should have said goodbye before things got so involved. But I was foolish...arrogant...I thought I could control things better. I thought I could keep my feelings in check. We both did.

I miss him so, so much. I miss everyone.

There was a little girl in church this morning. She looked almost just like Twyla. About the same age...darker hair, but similar facial features, and a sweet temperment. I cried all during church, partially because of her and missing Twyla and everyone, and partially because the sermon and readings hit really close to home right now. It was about faith and what kinds you can have:

No faith (disciples in the storm)
Little faith (Peter falling after walking on the water)
Great faith (pagan woman begging Jesus for her daughter's healing)

The underlying idea was that faith, being the stuff of which our hopes are made, and the evidence of things we can't physically experience, is the reason behind the things we do as Christians, or rather, it should be.

I'm so sad today. I'm trying to open up to +Kyle, but it's hard because the main reason I'm sad is the main reason he's angry. It's not fair that he is in this situation, but it's still not fun for me, either.

Well...we're here, in more or less one piece. The trip was a disaster. Over 18 hours of driving - should have been no more than 14 hours.

Friday, we got finished packing the van around 7:00 pm, then went to to meet Scooter at the Western Inn for one last conversation over coffee. We pretty much just talked about Neverwinter Nights, getting our systems up on Linux, and good old geeky stuff. +Kyle and I had dinner of omelettes. Their Denver omelette is pretty darn good. Two hours and 6 or 7 cups of coffee later (and that was just me), it was time to say goodbye. It was quick...but it couldn't have been any other way. We stood and held each other for probably too long, although I don't think either of us really wanted to let go. He shook +Kyle's hand, then pulled him into a hug, and went to his car, saying he'd see us around.

I didn't even make it to the truck before breaking down. +Kyle put his arm around me as we walked and finally said, "If you want to stay, this is your last chance."

"The van is packed."

"That doesn't matter."

I think I just shook my head...I don't even remember if I said anything. I just got in the truck and we drove out, and took the highway up toward I-40. I can't remember the last time I cried so hard.

In doing this, I realize...or at least think I do...that leaving must be the right thing to do...because it was so damn hard. It's almost never truly easy to do the right thing. Not really. Even for so-called "good people". If it's easy...if it doesn't hurt...require some sacrifice...is it really right? I've been called a martyr for saying things like this, but isn't it true, really? Staying would have been selfish...a hell of a lot easier than leaving, especially after the fight we'd had earlier that day...but selfish nonetheless. Is thinking like this being lost in self-pity? I don't think so...it's just one of those things that keeps popping up.

I know that, had I stayed, a life would have been available. They'd have welcomed me back at the Record. I'd have had friends. I'd have gone to school - maybe not for the language, but MSC had some courses I'd have been interested in, and Ms. Coulter seemed like such a wonderful teacher. I'd have kept going to New Beginnings, and gotten involved with the people of that church. Most importantly to me, I'd have had a family - maybe not by blood, but certainly by agape.

So I just prayed. I took something Don said a few weeks ago, and prayed to be like Jabez. My name may not be a cursed name, and there are millions of people with harder lives than mine, but I asked blessing. I asked that this decision to leave behind that which I want, for sake of ease and all the rest, this decision to stay with +Kyle, knowing that the healing needed is going to take time and hard work and many many unpleasant days...to be blessed. I'm not doing it FOR blessings. I made the decision to stick by him because it seems the right thing to do. But I asked them anyway, because I am so tired of being sad...of hurting... I don't think it's wrong of me to ask this, because Jabez did, and God blessed him just for asking.

I also asked Him not to make me wait too long for real happiness.

Somewhere around Vian, OK, (midnightish?) we stopped for a break at a Phillips 66. I went inside, got cleaned up from crying so much, and then went for coffee. Some cop had just finished at the counter, and he and the guy were talking. I got something like a 16 oz. cup, and went up to pay for it. The guy at the counter was probably around 45, maybe 6 ft. tall, greying, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt with a Harley logo. "Traveling?"

"Yep...long, long drive..."

He just looked at me for a second, then said, "Are you a biker? Leather...all the black...chain wallet..." He smiled.

"No...this is just me..." I smiled a little.

I pulled out the wallet, and tried to pay, but he said, "Just take the coffee. You look like you need it."

I smiled a little more, thanked him, and left. That little exchange really blessed me. More than just the coffee, it was an element of caring that you don't see very often. I wish I'd gotten his name - I would have liked to send a note. I can't find a Phillips 66 actually IN Vian...the closest one listed in the yellow pages is about 8 miles away. I pray many many blessings in return for him.

We had planned on getting to Little Rock before stopping, but I wore out way too early. We only made it to Clarksville, which is about 100 miles west of Little Rock. We found a Super 8, and stopped for the night. The shower was nice.

We passed a place called Toad Suck, Arkansas shortly thereafter. We've passed it several times, of course, but I've never remembered to mention it until now. We crossed a bridge at one point, and there was a sign for Lotahwatah Road. There are way too many bridges on this drive.

I made about 12 mix tapes for the trip - only listened to about half of them, because I torture myself with depressing music when I'm already depressed. Maybe I'll post the playlist. Maybe not.

We left out around 11:00 the next day. Things went pretty smoothly until Mayflower, Arkansas...or actually about 7 miles out from it. It was about noon by then. Traffic stood at a complete halt up until just past the exit for Mayflower. We were in line for an hour.

Now, about a mile out from the exit, we saw a nasty wreck in the westbound lane. There was a trooper in the eastbound lane, but he wasn't the problem. Underneath the overpass at Mayflower, there was another cop keeping things slowed down for no apparant reason. Immediately past that, traffic picked up again.

Anyway, we got off at Mayflower because I needed petrol badly, and were there for probably half an hour because they were having trouble with EVERYTHING...the debit machine...the pumps...everything. The lady said it was her first day working alone, and everything that had could go wrong had - they had even run out of gasoline once already that day. (I'm not surprised, with all the people WAITING for AN HOUR...)

I called Nancy and the 'rents to tell them where we were and how far behind things were. Nancy sounded glad to hear from us.

So we drove and drove, and got to Memphis around 4:30 or 5:00. I hate that bridge. I hate it in the dark. I hate it even worse in the daytime.

Memphis was the seventh circle of hell. There is NO exit marked for Highway 72. We miss that exit every time we get off I-40. Every time. Even when we have directions. This time we got really lost, except for that we remembered that the road name was a tree...Pecan or Poplar...we were sure it started with a 'P'. Eventually we stopped and got directions, then happened upon Poplar. Problem was we turned West instead of East. So we got turned around, and of course by now, Rush Hour was REALLY going, so it was about 6:30 before we even got OUT of Memphis. I have to keep telling myself to stop looking at little maroon cars.

Somewhere in Memphis, while stopped at one of the million or so stoplights, I saw a store called Dan West Christmas Supplies. Their little slogan was, "When it comes to Christmas...go West..." I don't know why, but it was of interest at the time.

That was the most harrowing part, and I really got to the point of not being able to control myself. Could not stop crying. +Kyle kept getting on the radio and asking where we should be turning, etc., and of course I have no idea, so that just made me crazier. I was pretty rude, screaming at him and such... I plead temporary insanity. I told him I wasn't ready to make this move. I told him I couldn't handle it, that my nerves were already shot to hell and that I really needed to wait a few more weeks to settle down.

But anyway... In Germantown, we pulled over, and +Kyle basically told me that I just had to pull myself together and keep going. Maybe I needed it, but at the time I definitely didn't want to hear it. He went off and called the 'rents and his mom to tell them what was going on, we got some drinks and went on.

Somewhere in Mississippi we stopped again at a little gas station to fill up. Some kid who looked about 12 came out of the store holding a root beer, then got into a green VW beetle (his shirt matched), backed out, and drove back behind the station, to some housing in the back. The guy who runs the store came out, saw me gawking, and said, "Don't be surprised when you see things like that around here." I guess the kid really was about 12. He looked like a sandy blonde Daniel Radcliffe...Harry Potter glasses and everything.

The clerk said we had another 3-1/2 to 4 hours drive to the Huntsville area. I called the Scotts again - Jim answered this time - to let them know we would be getting in FAR later than anticipated and didn't want to bother them when we got in, instead. He sounded glad to hear from me, too, and wished us well.

The rest of the drive was pretty uneventful...just long...

We got to Athens right around 10:30. Found the house with little difficulty. It's a nice place. Hardwood floors. Basement. Probably about 1200 sq. ft. It's a steal, really, at $350 a month.

I've got to find a job. I was really hoping to be able to take a break, but even if +Kyle gets this job tomorrow, it's not going to pay the bills, much less get us caught up. He's talking about getting a second job, too, but we need fun money, too, or we're going to go insane. There are way many movies this summer that will not be worthy unless seen on the big screen. We would like to bowl more regularly, go skating, etc., take Ian, the boys, and probably Logan out some. Need to get out with Gamegod and Geekgrrl...etc.

Oh well... It's late, and that's pretty much the whole trip, so...for now, goodnight.