What do I really think...

So many thoughts fly through my head.
I try to catch them, but they are sneaky and slippery.

Last night, I looked at airbnb for monthly rentals.
Maybe I still need more space when he comes home.

He asked me to tell him my thoughts, to be honest even if it's hard for him to hear.
But I don't want to hurt him.
And I'm still not sure if it is safe to be vulnerable when I've been burned too many times.

I am complicit, as well.
All of the strategies I've developed to manage this chaos are going to have to change.
But it really isn't fair to ask me to let go of the strategies that have kept me safe for so long.

I'm kind of pissed, to be honest.
I fought so fing hard for so fing long. I fought for us.
I stayed present in our relationship. I kept giving him another chance to hear me.

And finally when i give up, when I checked out, when I move on...
When I'm done letting him crush my heart and leave me feeling hopeless, I give up hope.
Then, he shows up.

And suddenly I am supposed to be here, to be here and to be available for him.
To be willing to try again.

and I do want what is best for him. Really, I do. So much.
But... what the fuck?
I've wasted so much of my heart and my time and my soul on him.
and I just don't know.

So, How does the next step work?

A new start

Not sure where it goes from here, but it's a new start in any case.

I really do want to believe that the past can be repaired and healed, but I'm not sure.
And as much as my resolve deepens that the past will never be my future, I'm not sure.

The parts of me that were wired to be hyper-vigilant, to keep me safe, to keep my baby safe, are still on alert. How long does it take to learn that it's okay now? To learn what it feels like to relax?

I wake up every morning when I hear my little fox, and the anxiety spikes, and I can't fall back asleep. Even though he is safe and capable of being up on his own, I am on alert. It's been this way for 8 years. Its my job. To keep him safe.

To keep him safe from a drunk husband who passed out holding him. To keep him safe from a bad dream that woke him up crying but I'm the only one who is sober enough to hear. To keep him safe from an argument of mis-matched expectations and wills that teach him it's not okay to feel. I have always been his safe place.

30 days of peace, to regroup and gain perspective for me. I never could have imagined that I'd be so ready. To slam closed those doors and slowly consider the new doors ahead. It's going to be okay.