I will say, quickly, that this started out as a comment post, but it got too long, so here it is. It starts out being addressed to the 'anonymous' who doubted my truthfulness/reality/etc., but continues into a regular post. So don't feel like you are eavesdropping. ; )
Anonymous- I am so sorry you were taken in by that 'april rose'. I had never heard of it until you commented about it here. I googled it (gotta love that google). Holy cow. I can see that you would feel embarrassed or upset for being taken in by that hoax and then determined never to repeat it. And so I can understand you feeling unsure about my blog.
I didn't even think of Beloved as being a romance-novel name. It is what his first name literally means. And what I've called him in our emails or notes to each other for many years. Well, that and "Q" for "querido".
And there may be missing pieces to what I have posted. I have tried to keep some of his doings (that may be embarrassing to him) to myself. And a lot of my own experiences as well, kind of because I can't write everything or my fingers would cramp up. I may need to reread and see if I can fill in the holes. The problem is, since I KNOW all that happened (um, cuz it happened to me) then I may not see the holes. You know?
And believe me, I realize it was a quick turnaround. It's why my head was spinning for days and days after. It still does some days.
But now there are other emotions to contend with other than just 'is this for real? is he here to stay? does he mean what he has said?' Now there are emotions of frustration (with myself and with him), and impatience (with myself for having a hard time saying 'i forgive you'--I say a lot of 'It's okay's and 'I know's and 'We'll get through this's ) though I know I need time to heal all that hurt and loss of trust. And yes, there is still a lot of hurt. A lot.
It seems that I hurt so much easier now. I mean. I kept telling myself (when he was gone) "You can't hurt over everything." And I guess it became my mantra.
I was so tough and in control. I kept it all together (definitely it wasn't me alone, I know it was Heavenly Father holding me together--I'm not that strong), and felt peaceful a lot of the time.
And then he came home. And it feels like I am bleeding most of the time, now.
I feel like all my defenses are gone. I have my moments where I just can't handle certain things. What's worse is that I can't seem to keep it to myself anymore. With him back and all that we've talked about, it is like I am stripped of my defenses. And I cry. And I hate to see his face when I do. He hurts. I don't want to add any more to that, you know? But at the same time he says it is part of the return process. That he needs to understand all the consequences and pain caused by his actions. I struggle with that. Isn't there a balance there that must be struck?
It isn't that I cry all the time now. It's more that my tears come more readily than before. Sometimes surprising even me.
And stupid things make me cry. Or good things. Like the first day that he was back at work (he took the Monday after he came home off to spend with me) and he called me just to hear my voice. I said, "what do you want?" and he said that he just missed me and wanted to hear my voice and I couldn't help it and just burst out crying. Yup. That's me. It's what I've been reduced to: A bawler. Not to be confused with a 'baller'. That's something totally different.
And Sunday. We had just got back home from church and the kids ran inside and he and I were standing out front just chatting and he ran his finger along the side of my face and said, "Mmm. I love this face." Yeah. I bawled again.
I've used this description a lot lately, but it's the best way I can think of to explain it. It's like I feel so raw and bruised on the inside that even a gentle touch causes me to bleed. Maybe it's the gentle touch that does it. Perhaps I could more easily withstand harshness. I don't know.
Maybe now with all of me laid so bare anything would make me bleed...now that he's here.
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 9 by The Pioneer Woman
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