October 31st will be 11 years…

since I walked away from a mentally abusive husband, and who, given a few weeks, I’m sure would’ve started with the hitting.  He slammed the doors so much that none of them were on the hinges correctly, except the bedroom door, which he locked at night.  I was always scared to be alone in the house because I couldn’t lock the doors because they didn’t close properly.  

When you marry your best friend, or at least I thought he was, you don’t think you will ever part from him. You make promises that you intend to keep, until everything goes south.. I begged for him to go with me to speak to a councilor, but he always made excuses. I know what sent him down the road of anger, but there was nothing I could do to turn him around. I was accused of everything from cheating to lying. Nothing I said, did, or didn’t do could make him see I wasn’t, hadn’t, never would’ve.  

Our relationship reached such a cross road that I knew one of us would ‘wake up dead’ one morning, and I didn’t want it to be me and he wasn’t worth killing, so I packed up and left on 31 October 2001.

One would think that after 11 years, I would’ve moved on, but I can’t seem to find the strength to take the chance. Just when I think I can do it, I remember what it was like with him, and what it was like to fail at my marriage, and I just can’t seem to bring myself to do it again.

I’ve failed at so much. Disappointed so many people, including myself. I just can’t do it again. I want to. I want someone I can trust to be there for me. To love me. To protect me. And then those memories – the slamming doors (I still can’t handle it to this day, even if it is an accident), the screaming accusations, the threatening (if I can’t have you, no one else can), the I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, only to do it again.

Trust. Protection. Two things I want again in my life, but I can’t seem to let those years of abuse go.  I’ve tried.  I’ve prayed and asked God to move it, so I can let someone else in.  I’m sure He’s heard my cry, but either He still has my wall up for my protection or I still have my wall up for protection.  Either way, the older I get, the more I want to tear down this wall of protection and allow someone else to build his wall around me, but my ability to trust always gets in the way.

Maybe I’m destined to be alone.  Maybe it’s my punishment, my karma catching up with me.  Either way, I’m tired of not trusting, having no protection, and no one to love me for me.

The ironic thing, my ex passed away a year after I left, in October!  October is a hard month for me.  Halloween was his favorite ‘holiday’.  He loved dressing up, handing out candy to the little ones and scaring the crap out of the older kids – and granted I enjoyed watching him have so much fun, laugh. I will never forget the phone call from his daughter telling me he was dead. I will never forget the pain of not being there for him, as I promised him he’d never die alone – and he did! I will always regret not going to his funeral. I wasn’t strong then, but I’m stronger now, but now’s too late.

Promises made, promises broken, those promises weigh heavy on my shoulders this time of the year.

Part of me still loves him, and part of me will always care about him. My love for him, my devotion to him couldn’t change him, and I lost him. And the bad thing, most of me still hates him for putting us through what he put us through, especially when it wasn’t necessary.  

Just when I think I’ve forgiven us both, October rolls around and hits me hard, harder than I can stand some years. For some reason, this year is particularly hard.

I’ll work it out, but how do I get over it, him, us, when October won’t go away?! 

I petition we remove October from the 12 months. I can live with 11 months….

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