Home of Broken Heart

I don’t know how to-do this. I don’t know how to not be a friend to the man I love. I don’t know how to not be the wife that I want to be. I don’t know how to be mean or not care. I texted him today. I should NOT do that! As someone pointed out, I have contacted him every day since we parted. But, it’s only been two days. The move was on Friday. I haven’t seen him. Seriously, I don’t know how to do this!

He asked me today for his mothers address since I have the Address Book but then I re-thought it. He can call her. He needs to ask his friends/family for that information. He didn’t/doesn’t want a wife anymore. He said he loves me but isn’t in love with me. That’s lame.

Anyway, my internet and t.v. is connected. Okay, one t.v. is connected. I have to buy a plug thing that holds more then one plug. I had one. I had two. The guy used one and I had the other in my hand but I put it down somewhere and I can’t find it. I looked all over but I don’t know where it is. The guys said it was okay but I started to cry. It’s not okay. It may never be okay again. My husband doesn’t love me. I had to be mean and didn’t give him his moms address (that was later in the day), I cant find the stupid, plug thing. Firepie barfed on the carpet this morning.

I went to the Counselor/Therapist, whatever this afternoon. I don’t think I will be going to that one anymore. The drive was crazy. It took me in like circles. I don’t like driving anyway especially in traffic. The drive was to long and I went by at least 3 places, he and I had gone to together. A furniture store where we looked for (purchased?) our sofa for the Living Room at the house, restaurants, Knott’s Berry Farm. I gave hin a shirt that he wore to Knott’s Berry Farm and he looked just like Charlie Brown. It was really cool. I don’t want to drive by there every time I go to the Therapist.

I got tons of boxes unpacked and you can almost see the whole Kitchen/Living Room. And, last night I watched Hoarders on dvd trying to get some normalcy in the situation. Because that’s what I would have done at home (the other place). I still have a hard time calling this place home because like my friend said, “Home is where the heart is.” and my heart is where my husband is, but, at the moment, he doesn’t love me anymore. So, my heart is broken.

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Men and Growing Up

It has come to my attention that my 42-year=-old husband still races cars.  When I say races cars, I mean street races his car against others…Not racing cars on tracks.  Now, I know he did this when he was young, I’ve heard the stories but he is 42!  He showed me where he goes.  They usually go early in the morning on a non-busy day and check for the Police first before actually racing.  Today, the race time was 8:30.  I was surprised when I got up at 9:30 and he wasn’t home yet.  By 9:45 I was looking on websites for news of crashes and/or local deaths due to recent street races.  Luckily, he came home around 10 and said the person he was racing against was a no-show and he had gone to breakfast with the friend he had taken as a passenger.  He had also given his friend a ride down the “track”..street.

This post is not about the pro’s or cons of street racing because I know that and so does he.

It is sort of about the fact that men never grow out of the thought that flatulence is funny so they do it all the time (even in the grocery store or at least mine does)and I guess they never grow out of things like street racing or other things that are dangerous.  I guess it is the fact that for most men  it seems; it is really hard for them to “settle down” so now I have to continually worry about his safety despite the fact we have been married 11 years.

 

Nervous About Driving

I have a doctor appointment next week and I need to drive myself of which I am nervous because it’s at 8:30 a.m. and there will be a lot of traffic.  I never used to be nervous of driving in traffic .  My husband has been going to these appointments with me and he is going to take me this wknd and show me how to get there and where to park to make things easy for me.  It’s funny because it is actually located in Orange across from the hospital where I was born and I even used to live across the street from the hospital, plus, I used to visit my mother when she was in a home down the street and in the same hospital.  One time, I even picked her up from the hospital and took her to the home. 

 It’s  just that my mind has spun out over the year or so and I still feel as if I am sort of not normal or not myself and never will be.

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