Im not mad anymore.
Physically, you’re still here, but my husband is gone. The smiling, sparkling blue eyes twirling me around the dance floor are gone. You left me, but the ghost of my husband lingered. I missed the man who used to proudly tell anyone that I was his wife. The man who wouldn’t let me bed-rot and linger in my depression. I was his pride. He thought I was beautiful, smart, and his eternal love. He left long before you did.
I kept waiting for him to return to his body, but you moved in. You fought me. You gave me work wrapped up like a gift. You wanted me to prove my worth, but it was never enough. I kept seeing flashes of who I loved, and so I fought. You broke me.
This monster covered in dirt and shit wanted a sparkling clean house and everything handed to him. How was I supposed to work a 60-hour week to afford you, clean your every mess, lighten your physical load on projects you invented, and still entertain you?
You walked out, walked back in, walked out, back in. You two-stepped all over my heart and my life. Broke my things. Threatened my job, my home and my life. I had whiplash from the spin. You loved me, but you wanted everything but me. I died. I woke up in the back of an ambulance trying to explain being out of my body to medical workers who took my fucking shoes. They gave me a jail pen. You killed my kitten. I knew if I let you in again, you'd kill me too.
I had nightmares again last night, like the one that caused my heart attack. But this time, I went looking for you. I found videos online, recent ones. My husband is gone. In his place sits a fat, disabled shell of a man. No sparkle in his eyes. Forced half-smiles. He cant do any of the things my husband could. He can't dance, he can't chase dogs, he can't dodge a bull. He isn't bigger than life, he is just bearly alive.
My husband is dead.
I almost feel bad for that dude in his skin. Then I remember those hands are the same ones that slapped my face. The secrets I keep are for myself now. Karma has been paid in full. We are equals again, just two strangers passing on the road. I harbor no more ill will.
Something in me clicked into place this morning. I don’t owe you anything. Not forgiveness, not human kindness, not even recognition.
I forgive myself for hating you, I wouldn't see you in an empty room.