The Fight

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An update to my “letter” post.

It goes like this for me, maybe it is the same for you:  I get so down, I feel as though I will never get up again. Then, the next day — I want to fight.

But first, I have to whine about it, moan about, write about.  I talk to whomever will listen.  And if they don’t want to hear it?  Doesn’t matter.  I will spill it, I will send that email, I will write that post, I will SAY how bad it hurts — because I have to get it out.  I am willing to shame myself if it means I’ll be free of the pain. I embarrass myself, show my failure, this never-ending battle of a marriage that on the surface — should have gone well.  It would be so much easier to see “the truth” had he been a cheat or a scoundrel.  If he’d been a lousy father or a drug addict.  He is not those things.  He is a good guy.  A good, handsome, sweetheart.  But it occurs to me that good guy or not — he’s destroying me.

So tonight — my options:  Quit my life or fight for my life. Lay down and die or get up and fight.  It’s no longer about my “marriage.”  The battle I face is not about marriage.  I don’t even know what marriage is anymore.  I’ve raised our kids by myself for so long now — what does it matter?  As long as I don’t say the word “divorce” everyone seems quite satisfied with the illusion.  So — I won’t say the word.

But the fight is within me.  The fight is something larger than a relationship.  Sure — the chips are down and stacked against me.  But the chips are against everyone.  Everyone.  Excuses are worthless.

My biggest threat?  Is giving in to sentiment.  I must be stronger than my sympathy, my self-pity, and worse — my guilt.

Years ago, I had a boyfriend — loved him, deeply — with all my heart.  But I knew he was all wrong for me, the drugs, the band, his ex-wife, his three children, his lack of direction, lack of interest in God, complete self-interest, but in the end it was the skirt chasing… that got me.  He was unfaithful.  That was the thing I couldn’t overcome.  That, and he had a vasectomy.  I wanted to have children.

One very bad day — I woke up.  From what I remember there were several bad days in a row, months of those bad days.  (I am slow when it comes to exiting “love.”)  But on the day I knew it was over, I thought my decision would end me.  I loved him.  I didn’t want to leave.

The choice had finally become clear then, too.  Who did I love more? Him or me?  If I stayed, it would kill me.  I would have nothing I wanted for my life.

But if I left, I would lose the man I loved. All I would gain would be the hope of becoming new, someday.

I left. It was horrible. Not a good end.  He has never spoken to me again.  Friendship — out of the question.  From what I’ve heard about him since, he married well.  He lives his life the same as he did when I was with him.  He plays music, has a boat and smokes a lot of pot. Good for him.  His wife makes the money.  His wife didn’t want children.  I did the man a favor.

In retrospect it was the right decision.  The wrong part of the decision was that I quickly entered into a new relationship.  Too soon.  I gave up on my dream of being an actress and replaced my love gone bad with new love, too soon.  That decision has brought me to where I am now.  I gave up on myself and devoted myself to another.

Stupid.

I should have sucked it up and endured the pain of loneliness.  I should have gone through it instead of trying to mask it, patch it — with new “love” and new false promises.  I should have given my dreams, my visions for myself a chance — but I was weak.

Tonight I ask myself which was worse?  The false promises said to me? Or the promises I made to myself and that I never fully pursued?  It is the second option that has brought me to my knees. I am to blame.  Now that I am down here — the lessons I needed to learn 20 years ago are still here.  Those lessons are much harder now.  I have mouths to feed, to clothe, to educate.  I have 5 beautiful people I need to teach, instill that honesty, gumption, hard work will go far.  I must teach them to be fearless, but wise, that they can be and choose anything they want  — but only if they put their whole 100% effort toward those goals.  I want them to know and somehow must teach that love does exist.  That love and happiness are attainable, but…

Never sell your soul.  Never give it away.  Their soul belongs to each of them and then to God – no one else.

So. Fight.  That’s what I am telling myself.  Fight.  Work.  Fight.  Reclaim my spirit and fight fearlessly.

and of course, I will pray.

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About Fringe Details

I write spec screenplays. Mum of five awesome people and caretaker of 6 chickens, five cats and one smelly dog. View all posts by Fringe Details

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