Closing That Chapter

Unlike times in the past, I'm not lonely, I don't feel as if half of me is missing and I'm not jealous of others who have relationships.

He's been gone since, April, will be gone for the rest of my life and I don't even miss him.

What's to miss?

Money going to the dope man, everything that's not nailed down going to the dope man, the vehicles in the shop because they've been so abused and me digging myself out of a financial hole to fix everything that's gone down.  There's nothing to miss.

For the first time in fifteen years I'm whole again.  I sleep well at night, I cherish not having to hide things and being able to go to bed without worrying where my pocket book and my keys are.

It's heaven I tell you.

Your mate is supposed to be of help, comfort and support, not a never ending nightmare of the same old thing.

I stepped off the hamster wheel.

There are those who are nay sayers, who don't believe, who will say the silliest stuff to me, but I don't care, I don't have to prove anything to anyone and it's really none of their business.

He's gone, that's that, good day to you.

It's peaceful.

I don't have to spend money on anyone but the baby and me.

Unless you've been through it you can't imagine what it's like to live with an addict.  

Everyday you try to empower them, to trust them a little bit, to put things right again.  You're always working toward this goal you will never reach because they are going to do it again.  You live your life with this dark cloud over your head just waiting for the moment it releases the storm you know is coming.

It's terrible!  It's full of hurt and disappointment and being used knowing you let them do it.  There's no hope for the future in it because the future is them getting high and it costing you everything.

I stood by him, I stayed down for him, I gave him more chances than he deserved and he still did the same exact thing over and over again.

No one can say a word about me, because I gave it my all, I gave him my all, it costed me more than anyone will ever know.

It's more than a car.  I bought the car to keep him from stealing the truck and praise God it worked!  The car is a seed to something better.  Who cares about the car?

I actually took it off my insurance and changed insurance companies because they didn't even want to cover the car because he was on the policy.  I don't care about the car anymore, it served it's purpose.  I'll pay it off, I'll get something else, or maybe I won't.  Who knows what God has in store for me, but one thing is for sure, it's not that.

Someone even had the nerve to say to me I would let him come back.  Don't you know I saw blood?

No, I will not let him come back, he can't ever come back and it was his choice to leave in the first place.  I didn't run him off, he made that decision on his own.  Getting high has always been more important than me, than our marriage, than anything in the world for him, so I think it's safe to say he got what he wanted and I paid for it.

I'm not even mad.

I went to see what could be done about the car, called the police, sat with the baby screaming in the truck for over an hour, counting police cars as they drove past me.  They didn't do anything right and it didn't go down the way I needed it to, so who cares.  They were calling me when I was getting on the expressway to come back home and that's the moment it didn't matter to me anymore.

He didn't say, "Hi, how are you doing?", the first words out of his mouth were, "Did you bring my stuff?", "Have you got a cigarette?", "I need some money."

I had been talking to God for over a week about how I didn't want to see him and I needed things to go peacefully and quickly so I could return home.

When I saw him running through the yards, it scared me so bad I forgot I was on the telephone with someone until they spoke to me again.

He's a shell of a man.  He weighed 222 pounds when he left here, he probably weighs 160 now, his face is starting to cave, his arms don't have muscles anymore, his waist is probably 26 inches and had I not known his body language I never would have known it was him.  He was sweating, wearing this hideous sweater I'd come to hate, wiping his face with it again and again, his mouth twitching, his eyes darting everywhere.  He was digging around on the back of my truck, I already had it in reverse planning the moment I could escape, because the visit would only go down hill from there.

He said the craziest thing I ever heard to me.

"You left the dogs home by themselves?"

That question struck more fear in my heart than the fact he was standing there, high, dirty, looking crazy.

Apparently his mother isn't letting him live in her house anymore, because he keeps stealing from her.

I waited until he walked into her house to take my foot off the brake and leave, because I knew if I tried to back up and leave with him anywhere else he would be on the truck before I hit the street.  

It was like watching a zombie circle around the truck, then he was in the passenger window, talking to the baby, who probably no longer knows who he is because he doesn't even look like the same person.

My legs were shaking, my heart was pounding in my throat and I felt sick to my stomach.

I never looked back, I just kept going.  I drove home, forgot everyone else I was supposed to see, had to call someone who was supposed to come meet me, just kept going until the truck stopped in front of my house.

The love affair had ended the afternoon I woke up from a nap to find the car gone.  My truck was in the shop because of his shenanigans and he'd taken money out of my desk, money that belonged to the company I work for.  I forgave him the first time, but that was the boundary from then on.

I'm not sad like I've been in the past.  My heart doesn't feel sorry for him anymore and it doesn't long to have him back either.  Praise God.

I remember always being so sad that my "baby" was in the streets, poor poor Murphy.  No!

He made the choice, he always chose that over me and it's not sad any longer.  It's pathetic.  It's like choosing an old, should've been thrown out hamburger from a fast food joint, over a cooked to order steak in a nice restaurant.

It's not sad anymore and I'm not sad he made it.

It was his decision.

The car you ask?  It's not worth having, passenger mirror hanging off, bumper hanging off, trunk busted, windows busted out of the driver's side, flat tire, who knows what else.  That car will sit there just like it is until the city makes them haul it off, it will never run again.

I'm left to pay it off, along with all the other stuff and when that's over with, what a relief it will be.

I'm already free.  A divorce is inevitable and looked forward to.  The papers are already filled out, they just have to be signed, notarized and filed.  That's another $224 it never costed him.

There's no nagging fear in the back of my mind that he might show up, because he's not going anywhere, he's so stuck his feet might as well be in concrete blocks.

Those boys he thinks are his friends are watching him die and accepting every dollar he brings them.  He's just another j to them.

Does God still love him?  Of course He does.  He's been sparing his life all this time, he's been hit by a bus, he's been hit by a car, he almost lost his foot and his life when that happened, he's been shot four or five times and he's still here.

Do I still love him?

No.

It's over.  It probably shouldn't have happened, it was all me being a love sick girl, wanting something that wasn't good for me.

I am so relieved.