J'ai la haine en ce moment. Non. Juste beaucoup de peine.
Just got off the phone with my husband. Or whatever he is. He called to ask if I'd gotten his e-mail.
No. I hadn't.
Tomorrow I'm going to my former residence to pack up my books and take them away. The e-mail was to ask me if I would accompany him to buy a new computer; the old laptop we had is apparently "fucked up."
Okay, fine. I really don't want to go pack up the books. Don't want to see him. But I'll give him a hand with the computer-buying process. He said "I want a CD burner. I'm going to create myself a serious CD library. I've been listening to music a lot. It's good for you; it's good for the soul."
I felt the tension well up inside my chest. I screamed "You BASTARD!" Screamed it inside my head. Got choked up instead.
He asked if I was okay. I said that it hasn't been a very good day. And then where I once would have held it all inside, I told him. Asked him how many times he had snapped off whatever music I was listening to. How many times had he made me turn it down? How many times had he said "That's not music." to me?
And I cried.
He said "Oh, beaut, I'm sorry. I know. I lost so many years, I made you lose so many years. I'm back to life now, and it's time to move on."
I appreciate the apology. I really do. But it's small consolation for all I suffered through. A scab just got ripped off, and I'm bleeding again.
Things heal, eventually. I know. Hugs.
Posted by: Mike | October 27, 2004 at 10:16
Est ce qu'il faut passer par là pour faire la paix avec son passé ? je crains qu'il n'y ait pas d'autres chemins.
J'aime toujours autant ce que tu écris.
Eric
Posted by: coldbear | October 28, 2004 at 12:06