I’m a blogger. He’s a writer.
He was my weakness.
I was his muse.
Once upon a time my marriage was built on love...
Until it wasn’t.
Where had we gone wrong?
I had given up hope…
But then he messaged me,
And his words intoxicated me.
Made me believe in love again.
Made me believe in truth.
My imperfect truth…
Prologue
The Beginning…
I don’t remember the last time I could truly say I loved my husband. To be completely frank, I believe it was before we even got married. You can hate me for this, but until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes you will never really know why I’ve done the things I’ve done.
Often I stare at him from across the room and repulsion courses through my veins, a feeling of dread, that this is what my life has become. I wonder why I can't just leave him. Why I can't find the strength to love myself enough and simply be happy.
Was my life pleasant before I met him? Was I content? What’s missing now? I’m pretty sure I’ve never truly been happy. I’ve always struggled to find where I belong, but how can I belong somewhere when I don’t fit anywhere?
Sometimes I find myself picking a fight with him just so he will talk to me. All I want is a little attention from him. Good or bad.
It’s sick.
I know.
But living in the land of indifference has changed me. I reside here day and night until the moment I snap from his indifference. Then I lash out, rebel against what has become this norm. Although it’s not right, the reprieve from the emptiness when we argue is welcome.
If I left, would he follow me?
Would he fight?
Would he even notice?
Copyright © 2015 by Ava Harrison
Ava Harrison is a New Yorker, born and bred.
When she’s not journaling her life, you can find her window shopping, cooking dinner for her family, or curled up on her couch reading a book.
2 comments:
Thank you so much for sharing.
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