Thursday, January 24, 2008

Stormy Weather

I have a lot on my plate right now.
And so it has been a rough day. I have cried many times, which actually I'm grateful for. It's a release to be able to stop every couple feet and let the tears fall where they may.
To weep.
The sky has been weepy today.
Right now it's actually balling, but I'm not. I'm okay. The light is fading.
Both kids are napping.
Ding Ding Ding Ding! :-)
My dh is coming over tonight to have dinner with the kids and put them to bed. I am going out with my bestest friendest J.H. to see some Johnny Depp....mmmm....
Speaking of mmmm....I made my dh (and kids) dinner. Grilled chicken with pesto (my specialty) and pasta. Crudite. French bread. Roasted root vegetables. Even opened a bottle of wine.
Why?
Cause I love him.
And I like to cook for him.
And even though it might be inappropriate, I want to show him I love him, and think of him and care for him and want to cook for him.
Plus, I don't think he's going to get the wrong idea.
He said yesterday that he wanted a divorce. It's time.
It was hard to hear. To say the least.
My head said, good. That's done.
My heart was pounding on the door. Don't leave me here! I WANT my husband!!!
Sounds silly, but it's quite true, quite desperate, very sad and un-nerving.
Plus, full plate stuff -- dealing with financial stuff (YIKES) and a re-fi and being dropped from my health insurance and looking like I'm going to get totally screwed on that front and etc. etc.
I know during times like this it is easy breezy to fuck up...to put it lightly. When you're off balance and emotional and vulnerable, it is very challenging to keep your light lit and your senses intact and your radar up and God's voice loud and clear.
Tonight, on my way home from the movie a big SUV crossed all four lanes of traffic on Sepulveda in a U-turn, and stopped right in front of me sideways. I was going about 40 mph and I'm shaking just writing this but it's true. I hit the brakes and down-shifted, but I knew I was going to hit him. It was raining like crazy and there was a ton of water on the street. I skidded and tried not to swerve into other cars and laid on my horn so he would move but instead he rolled down his window and stuck his big shaved head out and shot the bird right at me. I came to a stop just as my car kissed his. I was right on him. He didn't seem to care about that. He yelled "fuck you" at me and pulled away.
That is NOT the light coming in. That's the dark.
I got home and my dh was here and we had a good and bad conversation. It's all about the duality. It is what it is.
I couldn't stop crying. Not weeping. Crying. Like the sky is still doing. I just couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't hear about how "screwed" we are financially. I couldn't hear the details of how he decided he was done with our marriage. I couldn't hear about how angry he was (duh) or how sorry he is (okay) or how he wants to see the kids as much as he can (good) and how he promises to take care of me (good luck). It's too much. Stop already! Finally he said: I know you want me to leave but I can't leave with you crying. So I breathed and I stopped and he left.
And I started again.
Then I took some Rescue Remedy and ate some food and watched some TV and came in here to write to you.
Weather forecast.
More rain.
Love you.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love you too.
In the rain.

Anonymous said...

I wish the stop of the rain could bring the stop of your pain, but I know it won't. You are on a bumpy ride and it will take a while to get through this. But you have a bright light inside and I know that you will survive. Rely on your friends, you have offered us all so much and have given us all a kind ear when we needed to bitch and unload, so this is your turn, dump away, girl! We will help you shed the pain! Love you! BB

Tracy said...

Is it appropriate for me to say how much I admire how you tell the story of what's happening in your life. Erin, you're a beautiful writer. And you are so very brave. Both with your words and your actions. You make beauty out of your pain. You're an artist of writing and your life. Stay strong and truthful, my friend.

Tracy