Three Months

Today is three months to the day since Lora's incredibly selfish actions tore huge holes in the fabric of my life.  It's also the day that I've realized I'm totally fed up with the status quo.

A warning before I go on:  there are a few things that I'm going to mention that will not be elaborated on in this writing.  I promise I will write about them in the future, but they are not for this piece.  This piece is to relieve the ridiculous pressure in my mind that, so far, has only manifested itself as a flood of tears and heartache.  That being said, I'll go on.

Bryan and I healing from what happened, but it's a long and arduous road.  Things have happened on both sides that neither of us are proud of, and there's a good chance it could end up tearing our marriage apart.  How we can even hope to recover after all that has happened is the biggest question on my mind.  Just sustaining the shattered pieces we managed to pick up has drained me of all my energy.  I honestly don't know that I can continue to hold my marriage together, no matter how much I love my husband.

There was an incident about two weeks ago.  Some serious medical issues, a lot of stress, and a little bit of alcohol came together and caused Bryan to have a violent personality change.  By violent, I mean physically.  He attacked me with a strength and ferocity I didn't know he was capable of...I truly believed he might kill me.  He ended up hospitalized, where they discovered his disorder...but I was the one with the bruises, the split lip, and the abject fear.  About a week after that, as we were trying to recover from that incident (again, topic for another post), our landlady had a psychotic break and we had to flee our apartment.  Luckily, we had no lease, so leaving was easy.  However, she's taken to harassing the people around us.  I had to leave my job because it was too close to her home and I knew she would come looking for me there.  All in all, it's been a very rough two weeks.

There is only one friend in my life who knows the absolute truth about those two situations...Kyle.  He's the only friend I know I can share 100% of my thoughts and feelings with and not be shunned, no matter how dark or depressed or angry I get.  Unfortunately, in the midst of all of the bigger issues, I'm struggling with him too.

It's now been exactly three months since Lora told him to stop talking to me.  With the exception of her visits to NY, he and I still talk every day.  There is friction, though, and I believe it's finally worn me away to nothing.  I know he's doing everything he can to prevent anyone from getting hurt, but it's no longer working.  At this point, I believe nothing binds us save our memories of a friendship that was once wonderful.  Because of that, I can't seem to step back and say "I'm sorry, but I need you out of my life."  I want to, but I don't want to.  I cling to the memory of the man who was once one of the most amazing men of my acquaintance.  He's gone now, though, and I can't find him.

When I tell him this (and I have, several times), he just apologizes.  I know he is aware of the change in his own self.  He says he feels nothing but tired, and claims that after everything he's been through, he's entitled to feel drained.  I know I've put him through hell myself, and I have not been able to apologize enough for this, but I still have to sit here and watch as she toys with him.

The night Bryan attacked me was the last night of her last visit to NY.  Blinded by fear, physical and emotional pain, and heartbreak, I called the only person who I knew was capable of talking me down from the heightened "fight" response my body had initiated...Kyle.  His brain and my brain are functionally identical.  However, mine didn't make the connection that she was still there...it was merely seeking comfort.  I laid on my bed, the phone laying next to me but not to my ear, listening to the ringing...when his voicemail picked up, I was wracked with terrible sobs.  I'd never experienced anything like them in my entire life...my entire bed shook with the movements of my body as I wailed.  I was alone.

The next day, I learned that my call had caused a lot of problems between the two of them, and Kyle was afraid they were over.  I felt nothing, of course.  I was still reeling from the previous night, physical pain that screamed with every movement of my body, and a serious lack of sleep.  It didn't take me long to see that Kyle was more concerned that Lora may have dumped him than with showing even the slightest bit of concern with what I'd gone through.  (They didn't end up breaking up.)

I think that was the day I started to detach.

After our hurried move, I realized how badly I needed a friend.  My three best friends all live long distances from me.  Andy and his wife reside in southern PA, about two and a half hours away.  Trisha lives in AZ, separated from me by the majority of the country.  (This is a fact that I frequently lament.)  Kyle lives in NY, roughly three hours from here.  Close by, the only one I really had was Lora, and she didn't just burn that bridge...she blew it up.  There is no returning to what we had, even if I wanted to.

I'd known that Kyle was planning a visit back to the area this weekend, so I decided to see if he'd be interested in hanging out for a little bit.  He turned me down, saying he didn't have enough time, but I know him better than I know myself and I knew the real reason...he didn't want to see me anymore.  I confronted him, and he didn't bother lying.  He apologized and said that it was too hard, admitting his fears of being seen and word getting back to Lora.  My detachment, which was slowly progressing at that point, kicked into high gear.  I've never bothered making time for people who wouldn't make time for me.

Anyway, that was a lot of backstory to get to the point.  Sorry about that.

Right now, I'm sitting alone.  I'm so depressed that I can't seem to muster up the urge to go anywhere or do anything.  I haven't cashed my final paycheck, my sewing projects are abandoned, and I struggled to finish a book I recently started and was devouring.

I will admit that I promised to hide in the shadows so Kyle wouldn't have to feel guilty about abandoning me, but three months is a very long time to hide with no hope for the future.  I only agreed to be his dirty little secret because I honestly thought the two of them would be done by now.  Multiple times, she's learned of his lying to her (to protect me), and multiple times, she's spent days putting him through hell to punish him and then deciding she doesn't want to leave.  He tolerates it because he's afraid of being alone, and I tolerate it because I know if I leave, he actually will be alone the day she does leave.  They can't possibly last forever, a fact I think Kyle is aware of, but neither can I.

I've been ground into nothingness by the events of the last few weeks.  I'm tired, angry, depressed, and heartbroken.  My marriage is probably going to fall apart and my closest friend, the strongest pillar in my support system (until recently), won't even be there to help cushion the fall.

There's a part of me that is still holding onto the past, desperate to save the friendship Kyle and I once had.  That part of me doesn't want to lose him.  But there's a growing part of me that just doesn't care anymore.  The longer this drags on, the closer we get to grinding away the part that still cares.

I've never felt this lost in my entire life.