WARNING: THIS POST ISN’T A PERKY ONE. IT MAY TAKE A VERY DARK AND TWISTED TURN. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED PRIOR TO READING. CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
I didn’t just get frustrated, like I normally do. Nope, this time I actually yelled…in front of the kids [something I used to feel good that we’d never done], I called him names. I even contemplated moving back home with my mom.
I wasn’t very nice. I wasn’t very loving. Putting it quite honestly, I was a bitch.
I know sometimes married people fight, but I was loving that we weren’t part of that statistic. I actually felt like, for the first time in FOREVER, that I had done something right. That I found something I was good at, being a wife. But now, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out to be someone’s wife. Maybe I’m just supposed to be a girlfriend, that seems like the only time I don’t fuck something up.
I never pictured me as being the wife who would make her husband cry, but here I am. Sitting on the couch with the kids at 1:00 A.M [he’s asleep in the bed for work, the kids weren’t ready to go to bed when he was], wondering why anyone would want to be with someone who makes them cry. I mean seriously! I wouldn’t want to stick around in a relationship with a person who made me cry, I’d be walking out.
So why isn’t he? Why does he want to bother staying with me? I’m not good at being a wife, I’m not really winning at be a mom. I’m not really sure how I fit in this little family I helped create anymore.
I don’ really know why I’m sharing this with you guys. I don’t want self-pitty or marriage/parenting advice. I guess I just really needed to get this off my chest.
So, thanks for listening.