The Darkest Part Of Night Is Just Before The Dawn

Every day I look around me and I see a little more of my life packed away in boxes. Everyday I see a little more of Sir Arsewipe's life packed away in boxes. It gets harder and harder instead of easier and easier. We are down to the last four days in this house that I have shared with my husband and children. We bought it from a couple who got a divorce and the people who are buying it from us are getting it from a couple on the brink of divorce. I wonder if there is something significant in that.

It is the middle of the night and somewhere at the end of our property there is a coyote shrieking. I have wondered when their autumn carols would begin. I knew it couldn't be long. Somewhere around the end of August when their latest batch of pups have matured, they take them out of their dens and they do a nightly shriek fest and this goes on for usually and few months until the cold winter nights come.  Always when I hear them I think of my alpacas and the sheep that used to reside here and I would worry that some night the coyotes would get in their pens, but I will not have to worry about that any longer.

As we draw closer to the day when I will leave this house I am finding that I am feeling more and more fragile. I think that as long as I was living in this house I could fool myself into believing that things hadn't changed so much. But more and more I am finding that I cry in the night thinking about my life and how much I miss my husband and how much I want things to be the way they were when I thought he loved me and the girls. I miss the intimacy of sharing your life with a loved one. I miss having someone who cared about me. What I'm having trouble with is remembering that he has never loved me and he has never really cared if I am to believe what he has written. When I think about those harsh words, when I think about the love letters he has written to her, when I think about the awful things he has said about me and my mom and dad, then I just want to shrivel up inside and disappear. I can't tell you how mixed up, stupid, twisted you feel to love and hate a person at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I am going to explode with all this jumble of feelings and I just want to feel nothing for a little while... nothing.... not a darn blessed thing. Pure oblivion would be such a relief right now, and the sad thing is... no one can take this away from me and help me. Only me, only I can fix this...

I think that leaving this town and I think that leaving him behind will be a good thing. I found that distance when he was in Vernon helped a lot. Perhaps that kind of distance will help me some again. And I wonder how long it will be before I am able to get through a day when I don't cry... when this broken heart of mine will mend some.... if it will ever mend.... and I beg God to help mend it. But somehow I doubt it. That man has broken me... has broken me. I am realizing that the reprieve of the last month was only surface deep and that this hurt reaches down into the very pit of me where people can't see it. I get up each day and plaster a smile on my face and when people ask me how I am doing I say, "I am doing ok... I have had bad times but I am starting to feel better about it all." It is not true I think... I feel like my life is an out of control roller coaster careening down a track and I don't know when or where it is going to stop and Sir Arsewipe is the engine dragging us all after him. I am trying to let go of that engine but for some reason the coupling won't let go... malfunction.  That's me one great big flipping malfunction. And still that smile is plastered on my face when all the while inside I am hollow. That heart of mine that shattered outside the kitchen door and spread across the deck and ground, is now a million pieces covered in sawdust and soon will be swept over the end of the deck to be rained on and snowed on and walked on... I feel like I have one of those plastic hearts inside of me that is meant to keep my body functioning until a heart transplant can be found. But what is the likelihood of that. Anyone got an extra heart?

Doesn't look much like you can use this for love.

Again tonight I woke in the wee small hours... half past two my eyes popped open and I tossed and turned for an hour before I finally got up. I wonder how long a person can function on two or three hours of sleep each night. I am so tired and want so much to lay down this heavy burden I am carrying. But instead I will go downstairs and work... there are several boxes that need repacking because they are far too heavy to be healthy to pick up.

I've always heard that the darkest part of night is just before the dawn. I don't know about that but it feels pretty dark right about now. Certainly to God there will be some light soon?