Got to Tell Somebody....can't

You know, life would be easier in some ways if I could speak about the things that are wrong.  If I could just blurt it out and somehow be understood.  But, I have this understanding that there is nobody who will be able to walk here with me.  Who will actually want to see the blech and ick.  And, that's understandable.  Everyone has their own stuff.  But, sometimes, because I mostly remain silent...well, I think that people get the idea that my life is easy.  That I have no problems.  That I should be so thankful.  And sometimes I want to say, "please really see me."  I want to have my wounds seen and bound up.  But, mostly, I skirt the issues.  Allowing him the freedom to do as he chooses. 
I have a job interview next week.  I haven't told my husband.  It's like one of hte most exciting things that I have heard in such a long time...well, in my OWN life.  But, I can't tell him.  I know that he'll take away from my joy, not add to it.  It's hard to explain, but it will be about money.  About what it means to him.  About everything but the great gift God has given me to have this chance.  And, it makes me terribly sad to realize that sharing it with him would be painful.  It happens so often, but I usually just allow it.   But, this time it's like a treasured nugget that I'm guarding.  Holding onto the sheer joy. 
He cares about him.  He looks good for others.  He wants things that he wants and things that he wants done.  He is funny.  He is charming.  Can't deny it.  But, for me, for my kids, there is something else entirely.  No wonder my son didn't want to tell him about quitting college at the school of mines.  No wonder they never ask him for money.  Or gas.  Or anything.
The other day, I had taken my two older boys to a local drive up for half price drinks....it's "happy hour".  It's fun and about a buck a person.  When we arrived home with our slushes, another son wanted to go.  I told him that dad could take him while he was going out.  My oldest son looked at me and said that dad probably wouldn't leave in time to get him there.  But, my younger son, got his dad on board.  The, dad comes to me and says, "well, I don't know, do you have some money for us?"  Seriously.  Two bucks.  %&(*&$#@#$%%&(*&^%$$##@**&  Are you kidding me?  But, I dragged change and a couple of bucks out of my purse....about five bucks.  They came back with onion rings to share.  And a drink. 
Can't even go there about how he feels about any money I spend.  Seriously, you would think that the world would end.  It is crushing.  Debilitating.  Painful.  I can barely breathe.  Hard to need something to wear.  A haircut.  Shampoo.  Whatever.  And it's always frowned upon.  He has never looked at me and said "honey, why don't you go buy...."....no, not gonna happen. 
Yet, the other day driving, after my son got a good car for $500, my husband sees a van for $800 and says that maybe he should buy it.....aaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh.  I asked for money when we sold a house months ago so that I could buy a cheap run around car.  He said we'd see.  Nope.  No way.  So, I drove his car and he got dropped off at work. 
But there's nobody to tell.  I have friends.  I have a best friend.  I love them.  They love me.  Support and give to my heart.  But, they are his friends too.  They need him.  Sometimes, I figure that he is closer to some of them than I am.  And I genuinely don't want to be the b word.  I don't want to be disparaging.  And yet, I do want to just tell somebody.  All.  No filtering and holding back.  And I wish for that moment when they get it.  But, looking at him.  Looking at me.  I don't think that that will ever happen.  So, I can't.  I live the lie.  Sleep in the living room.  Let him live as if he is the greatest thing ever.  And simply stay under the radar.  Having given up church for the most part is the hardest.  Like a hole in my heart.  But, sometimes life is hard.  Easier to let people think that I'm a heathen than to say how horribly hurtful it is to go.  And I love my church.  But, times change.  I must grow.  And learn. 
So, I've told all of you.  I've shared my fears.  The only problem is that there's no getting the message that somebody gets it.  That somebody knows what it feels like to live with the "perfect man". 
Regardless of all of this...I am going to love graduation.  I am going to love time with my kids.  I am going to love my trip.  Though there's no support.  For any of it.  And he'll look good.  And, well, I'll just have to live with that.