Most of the time, making a decision is the hardest thing I have to do. I have to look at all the variables, try to calculate the probable outcomes of any decision, try to tap into any chess skills I have and predict that if I do this, that will happen, then I do this… and so on. In this particular moment, I have had two major decisions that I have had to make. The first was done almost a year ago, and I have been planning and taking the necessary steps to make it happen.
A second decision virtually came out of nowhere recently, which ties into the first decision. I made that decision. I took the Virginia job, and right before I started typing this, I was looking for places to live. I almost have everything in place. I have the job, I should be finding a place very soon, and I am pretty sure that I have all the funds necessary to make it all happen. Strangely enough, this has been the easy part.
The hard part is the waiting. I have another two weeks working here before I go back home. I will have a couple of weeks to finish getting my stuff packed up and into storage, ready for the truck to be loaded. And I have to tell X2B that I took a job 1300 miles away, I start in three weeks, and she isn’t coming. The dread of having this conversation keeps me up at night. I don’t sleep well when I do, and as soon as I wake up it is my first thought. I have been planning this a long time, and I am not going to change my decision, but I am dreading telling her more than anything I have had to face in a long, long time.
See, the problem is, I do, in fact, still love her. If I didnt, I wouldnt be so worried about the pain I am about to cause. I wouldnt have waited until she was financially capable of providing for herself long enough to get herself back on her feet. I do still care. I just cant live like this anymore. I am so tired of being taken for granted, so tired of having my needs and desires be pushed to the side to take care of hers. If you have been reading this blog for a while, you know the kind of stuff that I am talking about. I am sure that on the surface, each of the things I have a problem with seem trivial, but the entirety of them shows an underlying disregard for anything that is important to me. What she says does not match the actions that she does.
She doesn’t seem to recognize the sacrifices that I have made to take care of her. The money that I spent to keep her doctor visits and medications coming. The time that I have spent taking her to the doctor, or driving her around because she cant drive. The household chores that I do, on top of a 12 hour workday. (8 hours work, 2 hours commute time, 1 hour lunch, and 1 hour lead time to make sure I am not late for work) The fact that I had to trade in my XTerra because 1) it got shitty gas mileage and I drive 50 miles one way to work, and 2) putting that many miles a day on my truck caused it to have a premature death. I loved that truck, I really did. I made the sacrifice, mostly because she wanted to continue living with her parents, and I needed the money to keep her medical needs covered. And one day, when I saw a truck similar to mine, and stated that I missed my truck, she mocked me. That really hurt, and it showed exactly how much she cared about my feelings. I sacrificed something important to me, mostly because I had an obligation to take care of her, and she mocked me for it. How would she have felt if I had done the same to her when she talked about how much she missed her grandmother who had passed away? (Yeah, I know, vastly different things, a relative vs. a truck, but I am making a point here {I am looking at you JJ} so just roll with it.)
All of these things have added up over the years. I figured out that I really didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore several years ago, but I didn’t make the decision to actually leave it until she forgot my birthday. That was almost a year ago, and I have spent the interim preparing to leave. Mostly the logistics, getting the stuff from Idaho, sorting through everything in the storage and separating it into ‘his’ and ‘hers’ boxes, and now, getting job that pays a bit better so I can actually have some semblance of a life. But that doesn’t make the conversation easier. I think the biggest part of the problem is that I dont think she truly has any idea that things are as bad as they are. I get the phone calls and text messages telling me she misses and loves me, and I cringe every time. I think she may be starting to actually appreciate me, now that I have been gone so long, but it a case of too little, too late. This has to happen, I have decided it is going to happen.
But I hate to see a woman cry, especially when I am the one that caused it.
Tick Tales of Misery and Occasional Ecstasy 