Love. Joy. Peace. Patience.

In my garden are path lights.  And a bird bath.  I don't know who gave me the bird bath.  It is probably my husband.  What's funny is that I told my kids where to go and how much they were......on the day before my birthday.  My son got the garden lights.  Thought of it....he and I talked about them months ago.  Funny too. 
Thinking today how I feel sorry that I just time.  Feel guilty that even if he does the "right" things right now, I just can't get all excited.  It's nice.  It's just the motive is simply to get me back to being with him.  It still has nothing to do with a relationship with me.  With knowing me.  With sharing a life.  Life is all about performance.  I think that he believes that it's all about doing certain things a certain way to get a certain result or reward.  Unfortunately, for him, I'm good with being thankful for the little things even if it's not all of the right things.  It has something to do with the heart, with emotions, with something beyond commitment.  A sense of bondedness.  Of unity.  I just don't trust him anymore.  And that makes me sad.  Why is it that I always feel like the failure?  When I say anything or think anything, it's always with a sense that I simply haven't tried hard enough.  He DOES things.  He works.  He performs.  But it's not built on a foundation of love.  Genuine love.  I do not feel like he would ever do what I needed just to do it for me.  He can't put me above him.  Somehow he feels like he is if he buys a gift.  Or bothers to ask how my day is.  It's too late for those basic things.  He can't see me.  I've lived right here all of this time and he has used me.  Has given me such a hard time that I can barely make a decision anymore.  What to buy.  What to wear.  How to do something.  I do it, because it's who I am.  But, I'm always second guessing myself.  wondering if it's right or wrong.  Wondering what the response will be.  It's to much.  Too painful.  Today is the day to celebrate my birthday.  He'll smile.  He'll behave with great charm.  He'll act hurt towards me.  But conceal it to others.  It will be a fun day anyway.  I'm used to my birthday celebrations going that way.  At least there will be enough food.  I used my very own money to get it.  That made me feel proud.  Not sad.  I can take care of myself.  He speaks to me in ways that make me small, are belittling, say that I am incapable.  But, looking back, I went away to college.  He stayed home.  I had an apartment and got a job and lived on my own in another state.  He didn't leave his state until he went with me.  He only got a job away from home because a college professor recommended him.  He can't lead.  He won't follow.  He gets stuck in a rut and won't find the way out...instead he just works at something else really hard.  To prove what?  That he is good.  That he has value.  He doesn't give his kids or his wife a sense of value.  That makes me cry all over again.  How can he not see THEM?  They are amazing.  And though I might blame myself for this sense of failure as a wife, I have been a damn good mom.  Completely imperfect.  Completely inept.  And yet, with great love, joy, peace, patience, I have raised them.  Letting them know how valuable they are.  Even if I'm mad or disappointed.  I am tough on them.  And I spoil them.  Some.  They know it.  They know where to come for money or needs.  How sad for him....not to be trusted by your kids to want to do what they need.  To always be saying "there's not enough."  Wow.  He thinks that I don't know how to budget or make ends meet.  I do.  I have done it all on my own.  I'm just not him.  But I am able.  And I want to try it before I forget that I am able.  I want a chance.  An opportunity.  But I don't want to do it to prove it to him.  Because I am rather beyond caring if he is impressed or not.  He is still a decade back.  Thinking that the right gift or the right question is going to make it all ok.  That I have to jump back in and be compliant and willing to try longer if he does something nice.  It never turns out well.  And now when it happens, I don't even relax for the "good" time.  I'm always just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  For the next dig at my character.  For the next chastising.  For the next attempted argument.  I don't want to fight anymore.  I quit fighting.  Why bother?  I worked at that part for a long time too.  He gets off on the argument.  On showing me how he can put his things to words better.  On how he is more reasonable.  That I am not reasonable.  He is  driving me absolutely crazy.  If I don't get the space I need, I'll get it when they put me in the padded room.  Hope that there's chocolate.  And movies.  And comfy pillows. 
I won't let it get that far.  I almost did.  I'm afraid now of hurting my kids.  Don't know how to tell them.  Don't know how to get what I need and still have them feel safe and secure.  I don't want to screw them up.  I'll go to the looney bin before I allow them to take the fall for my being miserable.  But there is this little voice inside that tells me that  it would be ok for them.  That they would benefit from living in peace.  With each of us.  I have no interest in taking the kids away from him.  I actually want him to build a better relationship without using me as a buffer or a translator.  I think that it could happen.  I think that it will take something huge for it to happen.  I'll get work.  I'll live life.  He'll live too.  Somewhere else.  The only thing I can't figure out in the whole plan is how long would be long enough and if I'd ever want to live together again.  I know that it's harsh.  Know that I am supposed to be about fixing it.  But, I need some time to work on me.  And I don't know how much.  Not because I am selfish.  Just because I have been so beaten back.  Like a trampled garden.  Need time and water. ;)  Need to remember how to take care of myself.  Not always be worried about what he is thinking.  How he is going to accost me.  Up until a year ago, I was working hard still.  Even though I had given up in my heart.  I would take him out.  Would get him dinner.  Would use my money.  Would buy him things he liked from the grocery.  Would spoil him.  Would listen about all of his work stuff.  Would be affectionate.  But I was doing it because I was trying.  Not because there was joy in it.  Not because there was a connection that said, "I so enjoy your company and what we have together."  I don't.  and that's why I feel guilty.  Because I can't conjure up the sense of delight that I have with my kids.  With my friends.  With my coworkers.  With my students.  I am simply resigned to it.  And that isn't enough.  I need to give myself the love, joy, peace and patience that I have worked so hard to give to him.  The only way I could give it to him was to quit being happy myself.  Quit living who I was.  And I just can't do that anymore.  It's so sad that the thought of him being gone is the one thing that raises my hope level.  The one thing that makes me take in a deep breath.  The one thing that unclenches my jaw.  And he will not be happy about it.  He is going to make me feel like crap.  Like it's still all about him.  So, I keep waiting.  Trying to get strong enough.  Trying to get out there in the job world.  Need to get my ducks in a row.  Need to work hard.  Need to take a vacation.  Need to pray.  But I NEED to LIVE life.  Not keep worrying about how to keep him happy.  And this in between stage stinks.