I think that title really sums up my weekend.
I think this needs the full story, not a condensed blog version.
I will start first thing on Saturday morning. I wake up, I hear the chatter of the kids, P has youth club at 10, it’s 9.07 – shit. My husband had offered to take her, as I had been out the night before. He didn’t get up, and due to a cough was sleeping in the spare room. I decided to just take her and not wake him up, until just before we had to leave.
I asked him –
“Why did you turn off your alarm?”
“Dunno, I just did”
I’m annoyed by this, I don’t think you turn off alarm and don’t know why, I think you do it because you actually just want to go back to sleep. Regardless of earlier agreements.
I’m home around 11.30. I get in and start cleaning, we have visitors today at about 12.30.
I hang the washing up, tidy up toys from the floor, I say “I’m going to hoover in a sec”. He goes to get the hoover, but why? “Why are you doing this, I just said I was about to and you can go and find another thing to tidy”.
I hold on to half of the hoover, and he hits the release button on it so now I holding just the pipe.
“Just give me the hoover now”
“Just drop it” time 9
“Just leave it alone” times whatever amount.
“No, I won’t. Now just give me the hoover”
Hoover hits the floor with a clatter, using two hands, not one, on the top of my left arm he pushes me aside. I hit the door frame and just about manage to grab the stair gate so I don’t fall to the floor.
I follow him through to the living room. I’m not angry, I am upset, and we have to tidy up.
He pushes his computer chair at me, it bounces of my leg and rolls back across the room. Our two youngest are in the room, Lily runs in between, she pushes her tiny hand against him and say ” It’s okay mommy!” she grew about 40 feet in that moment.
It’s not okay.
I pull my ring from my finger and throw it towards my desk.
“We don’t have time for this, we have visitors in 20 minutes”. I can’t shout, my throat feels closed, it’s tight and my eyes are burning with tears, I’m not angry, I am in shock, and we have visitors very soon.
“This is your fault” he shouts.
“You pushed me and pushed me to this” he shouts.
“Could you not just drop it, could you just not? Can’t you just leave it, I asked you to leave it”.
I spin round to walk off, he pulls his ring from his finger and throws it at the back of my legs. It lands and oh it stung.
I say nothing, I plug in the hoover, I do the chores I had intended to do, I pick up my eldest from youth club, I have lunch in a bar, I return home and have coffee.
I wait till he is occupied at his computer and slip out the front door and don’t come home till the morning.
On Sunday I wake up with a perfectly round bruise on the back of my leg, my shoulder aches from where I landed on the door frame, and a tight piece of skin on my left ring finger, where my ring used to be.
But more than the bruise, but more than the aches, is that we cannot go back now.
He’s not a bad man, but I do have bruises.
Following On – Today I am Half, Tomorrow I will be Whole