Why is it always my fault? I get mad at you. YOU. In the end, I’m apologizing. Then I’m apologizing so much, and you’re ignoring me. Then I feel shitty, guilty, and in a bad place because now I feel at fault.

I am at fault here. I started it. I got angry. I got into an argument with Nick. We got into it. You came home. You were crabby to start. You didn’t even know that we had a bad day. I went off. I spew at the mouth saying all the shit that just happened twenty minutes prior. So you say, “THEN QUIT!” Just quit? Just like that? Is that seriously what you think I want you to say to me? After all my hard work, all the work I put forth an effort to make it to where I am today, just quit?! This hurt. It hurt me to think that you just gave up and didn’t want to argue or fight or bother with me. “THEN QUIT” smdh just quit, right? Just quit after all the effort and bull shit I went through to get a job just like YOU wanted me to. Just quit after I piled on bill after bill in credit card debt to buy me, you, and the boys tons of things. No that wasn’t your fault. That was MY fault. I’m not faulting you for that. Just quit. After I went six and half months throwing up all day long to work at OMX to GET to DHL and bust my ass to work 9 months at DHL showing and proving my worth to everyone to JUST QUIT!?

So, I get mad. I get extremely mad. I grabbed my keys and jumped into my car. I wound up at Walgreen’s. I had full intentions to buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke the entire pack while I sat there. Instead, I called my mom. I talked to her. I cried my eyes out. I was just so frustrated. She told me “You know what, you do what you gotta do. If you want to smoke, do what makes YOU happy.” Thanks for the support, Mom. Exactly what I needed to hear. Smdh I went inside, grabbed a few bars of chocolate, grabbed a juice and checked out. I didn’t ask for cigarettes. I didn’t ask for an e-cig. I checked out, grabbed my bag, and walked back to my car. A sense of pride came over me. I was so fucking proud of myself for not smoking.

I didn’t want to go home, not yet. I jumped in my car again and drove to the new Sendik’s mini-mart that they built up the block from the boys’ school. I went inside, took a look around, left and went home.

Mike was there. He asked me where I went. I said “places.” and left it at that. He said his mom was looking for me. I went over there. I calmed down a bit. I came back next door. I finally pipped up. “You know it really hurt me to think that after all that I’ve gone through to get to where I am today you think I should just quit.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want you to give up on me.”

“I don’t know how many times you want me to tell you the same ol’ shit over and over again!”

“I don’t know either. I need reassurance. I need to be told something constnatly to believe it. If not, then I don’t believe it. If after twelve years you don’t know that, I don’t think you ever will.”

We said nothing else. I went to bed.

This morning you woke up, I woke up, and we got ready for work. You said, “I love you.” and you left.

We text three times today. Very short. Very quick. Nothing. I said, “I love you.” and you didn’t say it back. I explained what happened at the doctor and you said, “I see.” I said I didn’t want to fight. I said I was sorry. I said sorry for last night, here is where I went, this is what I did, I am sorry for what I did.” You finally respond… “Ok sorry”

That’s where we lie. Now we will go on like nothing happened like always. Because that’s how we fight/argue. We get short, yell, scream, fight, but it’s always short lived. We say our sorry’s and move on.

I just wanted to write this to get it off my chest. Another rollercoaster ride in the theme park I call life.

written on September 19, 2017 at 4:33 pm with 2 Comments
Filed under: Love, Struggles