So, it's official. Lee is moving into his sisters' house on Sunday. We've worked out a tentative child-sharing agreement, plan for child support... it all seems so formal. And yet, it's not really formal. We're not getting the courts involved just yet. It's not OVER over... this is a last ditch effort to get both of us the space we need to heal individually. We'll be getting couples counseling as soon as it can be arranged, and hopefully have regular date nights.
But I have to say... I don't have much hope. And so the closer it gets to Sunday, the clingier I get. The tighter I cling to Lee, desperately begging him to fix this so he doesn't have to leave... so I don't have to lose him. The closer it gets to Sunday, the more I start wondering... was it really that bad... am I over-exaggerating... can't I live with how it was, wouldn't I rather live with how it was than live without him?
No. I wouldn't. But I'm still broken-hearted that I'm going to lose him... and though it's hopefully temporary, I'm going into it with the mindset that it is probably forever. I'm probably going to be saying goodbye to Lee as my husband forever. Sunday will be the saddest day of my life.
And the motherfucker is EXCITED about leaving. No, seriously, Lee is EXCITED about moving out for awhile. And I'll tell you why he's excited. No, this isn't why HE says he's excited, but it's still the reason. It's because his sisters are going to spoil him. They're not going to make any demands of him, let him do whatever he wants, and probably do the bulk of the childcare FOR him during his parenting time. He is going to have the cushiest life ever. Meanwhile I'm going to have to go be a single parent with next to no support. To two kids, because yes, I'm pregnant. It wasn't on purpose, but we weren't exactly taking precautions either. And I'm excited about this new kid, I love him or her, but what rotten timing. I feel so guilty for bringing a child into this mess. I'm going to have to struggle and stretch and go without... and he's going to have all his creature comforts handed to him on a fucking silver platter. No wonder he's excited.
And I actually think, as far as struggling and stretching and making do goes, I'll be better off without Lee around to demand the impossible. But still. Pregnant, with a toddler... on my own. My life is going to get worse. And his is going to get so. much. easier. Fuck him.
Because a big part of the reason we're separating is because he doesn't get it. He doesn't get the burden he places on me when he decides that his illness prevents him from being a functioning member of society. Maybe it DOES. Maybe it does. But then he has to make sacrifices. And he can't. He wants it ALL... and he wants me to provide it ALL while he doesn't lift a finger. Well, fuck that. I tried, for two years, to give that to him. Bullshit. I can't DO it. I can't. I'm not superhuman. But in leaving, I was hoping he would get it. But he won't, because his sisters are going to take care of him and give him everything he wants. So this is not going to be a learning experience to him of how hard it is to live in the real world and how much he was asking of me. Nope. Instead, he's going to get reinforced at how "mean" I am to insist he pull his own weight. How "mean" I am to tell him that we just don't have the money in the budget for all his creature comforts. How "mean" I am to tell him that after working and stressing and taking care of Olivia all day, I cannot ALSO clean the house even though a clean house is "so important" to his mental well-being. How "mean" I am to not just accept him the way he is.
The clingier I get, the more self-righteous Lee gets. The clingier I get, the more he tells me that I can keep him if I "do what it takes" to keep him. Which he defines as "accepting" him. As far as I can tell, "accepting" him means letting him do whatever he wants with no repercussions. He says I need to take responsibility for my own part in all this. And I agree, I do. But as far as I can tell, the bulk of "my part" is insisting that he act like an adult instead of a spoiled child. He thinks I'm punishing him. I'm not. I'm just not protecting him from the consequences of his own actions anymore. This is how the real world works. Learn to live in it, or learn to live without me.
Problem is, living without me seems easier for him than living without him is for me. I'm leaving because it's my only currency to get him to start acting like a true partner. Turns out, my currency isn't worth anything. So, I still have to go, but it is KILLING me that it hurts me more than it hurts him. I'm the one suffering. He's looking forward to it.
But isn't that how it's been this entire marriage? I suffer the consequences of his actions while he goes blithely on his way. At least I'm not the one enabling him anymore. Apparently I've just passed that job along to his sisters.