Asking To Stay

He finally wrote me a note.  Handwritten.  Asking to stay.  To live in boys room or family room.  Hard.  Says all he can do is ask for forgiveness.  I get that.  But all I can do is wait to heal.  And it's not going to be easy if we do it that way.  How would there be boundaries?  But would it be better for the kids?  Kids who are going to be gone soon.  But he also says that it is his hope for us to be together.  It's subtle, but it hurts me.  The constant assumption that I can and should just get over it.  I've tried that for so long.  I've "gotten over" so many things so many times.  And now here I am....in that shaky, tight, ultra vigilant place.  On my couch.  Terrified.  Knowing what I want.  Knowing what I feel obligated to try.  I hate that he can't just hear me.  Ever.  And give what I need.  It's always a deal making thing.  Here I am.   Home at last.  And I feel sick.  Literally.  The tightness in my chest and neck aren't probably too good.  Nor the churning in my gut.  The tingling in my toes.  The coldness in my fingertips.
And of course, this note came just as he knew that I was heading to "bed"....put it on my computer while I was in the bathroom changing.  How many times have I asked that it not be then?  Not right before I need to sleep.
Tears.  Torn from deep inside.  Silent.  In my no privacy place.  Why does he choose to steal my sleep by dumping his requests and needs on me when I am the most tired?  He could have written while I traveled.  While there was some distance and time for me to reflect.  To read it when I wanted to.  I feel distraught.  Like he stole what good I was given by this time away.  How does he do that?  Does he plan it?  I don't get it!!
He told me how well things went while I was gone.  How our daughter...who just turned fourteen....cooked.  How well the kids did.  He doesn't parent them.  He wants their respect but he acts like their equal when it comes to who is most needy.  He wanted to know what was for dinner after I drove home over 300 miles today....I'm just so done.  And I know they are nitpicky stupid things.  But they are all of these little things that add up to a whole.  An attitude.  A habit.  A belief system.
I just wish I could be warm.  Have my purse by the door.  My shoes ready to go.  Heater on.  Back to sleeping in my pants and sweater.  Oh....and socks.  I hate sleeping in socks.
Hope I don't throw up.  Hope my head doesn't explode.  Or my heart.  Hope I sleep tonight.  Because I am soooo tired.  What a sad place this is.  And I'm not sure how to get out.  I'll keep praying.  Looking.  I will be wise.  Because.....believe it or not......I can make good decisions.  And I will not be ruled by the guilt and pain that hounds me.  I am courageous.  Doing this with him constantly in the same house takes a lot of fortitude and bravery.  And I have come this far.
Yet, he still thinks that saying he is sorry is his part.  I'm glad he said so.  I'm sad that there is no change towards being who he could be.  Compassionate.  Empathetic.  On a team.
The pain in my neck is intense?  Talk about a stress attack!  Welcome home.......
On another note....seeing my kids was awesome.  They saved their school papers for me to sign.  Their high school schedule papers.  They waited to talk to me.  You know, he doesn't even know that he doesn't know.....he has missed so much.  Maybe it's the feeling sorry for him that binds me?
Not sure.  Gotta try to sleep.  Or at least turn off the lights so that I don't feel like a fish in a bowl.
grace.  always plenty of grace.