Our lives are a journey that we walk together not in order to become "good christian women," but rather to draw near to God so that we can reflect His light to those around us. Our stories, our paths, our dreams and our message are all unique. But we hold hands and walk boldly, fearlessly......onward...creating joy, hope, faith and peace in our wake.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

home

I just don't have a home anymore.  I have come to my home....and I have been intruded upon.  And I don't have any privacy.
I think that perhaps I need to put this house on the market.  And....there's a part of me that just wants to move away.  But I know that's not good for the kids in high school.  I just am so weary of this constant trouble.
I am caught in the world of polite.  It is polite to have conversation.  To be nice about having the same friends.  It's like I can't catch a breath.  And though I am further along in the process, it feels like I have worked and struggled and tried and.....I don't really see what it has achieved.  I am miserable.  I feel like a jerk because I wish he wouldn't follow me around.  He has gone the direction I go in the morning two days this week when I drive by our street and go straight instead of turning south.  He ALWAYS turns south to go to work....but, not now that he is leaving right when I'm going back by.
It's like being stalked.  But nobody would get that.  I feel naked.  I tremble when he enters.  I have to hold back my words when he is being all helpful....but not doing anything that would help me.  But then...really, it has always been that way.  So why I still struggle, I am not sure.  I think maybe it's because I'm so vulnerable since I opened myself up to really seeing and deciding to change it.
So here I am.  Home.  In the place where he is finally....after more than 20 years....working to set himself up as the parent.  As the one who belongs in the house.  It's creepy.  He has to keep me informed of the good things he is doing.  As if a checklist will somehow make everything alright.
How do I explain...or put to words...this deep seated hurt that there is nowhere.  No one.  No safe haven.  There are moments.  At least there are that.
But he told me this week he wants to keep his stuff in the barn.  His friends.  He wants every Saturday at the house.
I don't know what to do anymore.  I just want him out.  At least then maybe I could feel like he had actually heard me.  But every moment that I think that he did is negated within a day.  A moment of aha followed by simply doing the same old.  I can't live like this anymore.
grace.

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