Sorry Doesn't Help

[Okay, just a preliminary note: I am upset and I am writing to figure out stuff in my head. Don't freak out about anything I write. I just need to sort out my thoughts. Again. And I'm not editing at all. There may be language or vulgarity. I'm sorry, it's my life.]

I have been sitting here for over three hours with the computer on my lap trying to work. Nothing is getting done. Nothing. I keep looking at this grant I need to write, but I can't focus. I woke up not being able to focus. It sucks.

I called the therapist's office. Closed. I dunno their hours. Sometimes, I wonder if I am losing my mind.

Jose texted me this morning. He doesn't understand why I'm upset. I don't know which hurts more...the baby or the fact that I had a panic attack and he sat on the couch and never once tried to help me.

I'm a mother. Becoming a mom changes you. Suddenly, my world isn't only about me. And I have always been a very empathetic person. I cry for people and their pain. My heart aches for others. So, I look at my kids and imagine what it would be like to raise them without a dad. What their hearts would feel like not knowing a father. And then I think of this chick and her baby. And this little girl wondering where her daddy is and why he didn't want her. And the chick doing it alone. My heart breaks for them. And it's stupid. Only I am stupid enough to feel heartache for the girl who had sex with my husband and got knocked up.

And I'm mad. At the same time, I am furious all over again. I am pissed that she knowingly engaged into a relationship with him, knowing he was married, knowing me. I am pissed that he did not have enough self control to just stop. I am pissed that both of them were not even smart enough to protect themselves and now, that there is this little girl somewhere who has the shitty end of the stick, no matter what happens.

There are days when I just want to walk away. Walk away from my house, from my marriage, even from my kids, and never turn back. Just walk. And walk. Or just sleep. Go to bed and pray that I never wake up so I can be done with this.

And there are days when it doesn't even cross my mind. Those days are more and more frequent, but the dark days still hurt. A lot. And I can't stop crying sometimes. I just cry and cry and sob and sob. And I hate it. I have cried more in the last two years than I probably have in my entire life.

Why is life so hard?

It's one of those things that no one can answer. And any answer given isn't the right one. The only answer I want is for someone to say that there is this magic pill, this miracle thing that will make it easy. But there isn't, unless I die, because heaven is the only thing that makes the pain go away.

Sometimes, I wish Jose wasn't so stubborn. That he would just leave and never come back because then I would only miss him and wouldn't have to deal with loving him, having him next to me, and knowing. Then I could just use him as a scapegoat and live in denial. And I could fester up hate and anger and move on. But it isn't that easy. Because the pain would still be there. But I wouldn't have to work on a marriage through it.

He says sorry, but sorry doesn't take away the fact that you slept with some chick more than once. That you lied and lied and lied and betrayed me. That you took every element of trust that we had and threw it onto the highway in front of a Mack truck. That you hurt me so much. That there is this pain, this ache in my chest that never goes away. That I live in constat fear of you leaving me again. Sorry doesn't fix me. Doesn't fix our marriage. It doesn't stop panic attacks or allow me to fall asleep at night.

Jose has always said sorry. Sorry for this. Sorry for that. But the word was barely ever followed through with action before. Early in our marriage, I told him that I hated the word "sorry"...I do. I hate it. "Sorry" is basically this word that we teach our kids to say when they know someone is upset, even if they don't know why. If you want things to be right, you say sorry and it's magically all better. But it's not. Sorry should be followed up with action. If you are sorry for doing something, you stop doing it. If you're sorry for not doing something, you start doing it. If it's something huge, like an affair, you have to make huge sacrifices to make it better and you bust your ass to fix what you broke.

But sorry doesn't erase the existance of what happened. And sorry doesn't mean that I can feel upset and sad about it. And my feeling upset or sad doesn't mean that I didn't mean it when I forgave you. I may have to forgive you a million, billion times. And you may never even know that I had to forgive you again. And sorry doesn't mean that I have to forgive you.

I hate this.

And in days like this, I need Jose. Which is what sucks the most. When I feel like this, when I want to cry myself to sleep and sleep all day, I need him to scoop me up and open the blinds and let some sun shine in. Which I hate, because he is the reason it is so dark.

I need him to remind me that this too will pass, just like when we found out about the baby being born and I slept for two days. Or when the paternity test came back. Or when tires were slashed. Or when life just seems to rub it into my face. I overcame them all and I will overcome this too, but I am just so tired. So weary. So exhausted from it all. Again and again.

And in times like this, I don't even know how to reach out to God. That may be the darkest part.