Do you know the song “Better Dig Two” by The Band Perry? I think it was one of the first songs I fell in love with them with. It’s about a woman talking about how serious she meant about her vows. And that basically it was going to be Til Death Do Us Apart…
It played earlier, and I got a little teary-eyed as rage started to fill my veins. Quite the combination right?
And let the stone say:
Here lies the girl whose only crutch
Was loving one man just a little too much
It won’t be whiskey, won’t be meth
It’ll be your name on my last breath
If divorce or death ever do us part
The coroner will call it a broken heart.
I took your name when I took those vows
I meant ’em back then and I mean ’em right now,
If the ties that bind ever do come loose.
If forever ever ends for you
If that ring gets a little too tight
You might as well read me my last rights…
Obviously, these lyrics hit a little closer to home these days. I seemed to be the only one in this relationship who took our vows seriously. It could have been because I wrote them, well the extra lovey-dovey stuff… but still “…for better or worse, richer or poor, SICKNESS AND HEALTH…” I meant it. Which is ironic because even now that we have begun the separation process, since I am officially moved out now– where I am? At our old house, helping him while he has been doubled over sick for the week.
Mostly, I did it because I am nice and caring person by default. I also felt bad our daughter kept asking to go to see him, but up until this week he had been too sick for me to even risk the chance of her catching it and bringing it back home. #Weak immune system problems. Whatever he had/has, we still don’t know the doctors just keep giving him antibiotics without doing any real looking into, would (have) probably killed me.
But there was my slightly petty side that wanted to rub it in his face… and I did.
I want you to remember that I came and helped you while you were sick, and we aren’t even together anymore.
No really I told him that. I felt slightly bad because it probably came out much more harsh in person, but still the fact remains that I, the permanently sick spouse, came and helped him despite him not wanting to do the same anymore. And there’s a slight part of me that feels like he was expecting it, like he isn’t or wasn’t truly appreciative of me doing this. Sure he’s said “thank you” and reimbursed me for the the things I got for him, but it just doesn’t feel genuine.
It doesn’t help that while playing the Good Wife, separated or not we are still legally married, I have been running myself to death. I can feel my body screaming in distress. Story of my life, even when I myself am barely making it, I still tend to everyone else first. Granted he did apologize for me getting under the weather, and he did offer to take care of me. Which I laughed at because he can barely take care of himself at the moment.
Oh well. The Good Wife is returning to her place tomorrow. It was nice to feel needed and wanted, but then reality slapped me hard and said But who’s doing this for you? Oh that’s right no one. Earlier I read a post from someone on here, and they mentioned that “when a chapter is done, don’t go back and try to rewrite it.” And I tell you I needed that. I’m definitely stuck in that weird acceptance but not really phase. There’s and tiny part of me, as I’ve mentioned before that is clinging to this tiny thread of hope that maybe he will come to his senses. But the realistic part of me is like “girl… you left and he didn’t run after you.” Which is why, like I said, the Good Wife is going back home tomorrow. That and my landlord has a strict can not be out of the apartment more than 7 days without notice policy. And I also only packed enough medicine to get me through the week. #Smart thinking on my part.