The. End.

About a week ago I was going to post how Shawn and I were having a rough patch with our relationship. I stress about school, he stresses about work. I stress about the kids, he stresses about his hobbies. I wish I could say that we had overcome these hard times.

It started Saturday night (the 15th) when I asked if he could leave so I could finish working on this very stressful Anne Boleyn paper that I was trying to work on for my Western Civilization class. He refused to leave and the rest of the day was quiet. We argued for a while and then things were back to normal. Sunday we hung out together and no problems. Monday, the same.

But Tuesday, Tueday was not the same. He told me he needed “some time to himself”. He says he needs “to find myself”. He’s 30 and he hates his job and with my crappy health I have to be honest and say that I haven’t been here for him one hundred percent.

That said. He refused to call me back on Wednesday. He promised he come on Thursday to pay our cable bill and see Scout. He never showed up and he never paid the bill. I’ve talked to what friends I have (let’s face it, Shawn intimidated a lot of my old friends). It’s been the hardest thing to do, sit around waiting for him to call. I cry when I think about what he might be doing. I get anxious when the phone rings. I sleep with Jem’s 21 oz. baseball bat next to my nightstand.

To top it off, the medications the previous Dr. gave me have given me some hardcore symptoms and I had to go to the ER. Pretty much alone. So I just cried into my pillow between the nurses setting up IV’s and taking samples. The Dr. says I might have colitis. I’m taking antibiotics but now my stomach and rib cage are bruised and every thing hurts.

None of that hurts as much as Shawn walking away from me. From Scout. From the family we’ve been for 4 1/2 years. He’s promised to pay the rent and re-up our lease. But none the less I’m scared. I’m anxious. I want to talk to him and apologize for putting my foot in my mouth because I know I said things that I regretted a moment later. But he doesn’t want to talk. He said he’s “fed up” and he’s no longer wearing his wedding ring.

I packed up four boxes of his clothes, but I can’t figure out if I should give him the things that I knit for him. Would he want them? Or the photos of us? Or does he just want to excise me, and Scout, from his life.

All the surgeries, all the appointments, all the aftercare…none of it compares to a broken heart and broken spirit. I miss him so much. I love him so much. But he’s at that point where he just doesn’t want to deal with it. I hope, and pray, that maybe in a few weeks things will be different and that maybe he’ll come back to me.

For now, it’s just me and the kids. And Rogue. I probably won’t be on this space as there are so many things to do when you separate from your loved ones. But I wanted those of you who know me, those of you who actually care about my well being, to know that I am really trying hard to get through these dark days. And I hope that soon I can post something bright and uplifting.

♥