Please, Father Time. Take me with you.

 

It’s amazing how fast someone’s life can be flipped upside down so quickly. The more people I meet, the more I see others in the same situation as I once was.

When my ex-fiance told me she wasn’t happy in our relationship and hadn’t been happy for the past two months, It really took a lot to comprehend that. She was never mean or vindictive towards me and she always supported me in whatever I wanted to do. Especially with buying the house for us. We had been dating for roughly 14 months when I asked her to marry me and then a month later, we bought a house together. Things seemed to be working out.

Apart of me feels betrayed because I really wasn’t given a chance to make things better for her. The past two months, she was miserable. I had no idea. She gave no signs that she wasn’t happy. She just wasn’t happy.

She left in late May of 2010. I got out of the military September of that same year. I lived in that house, alone, beaten, and brought to my knees until I made the trek from southern Illinois to the great Pacific Northwest. I packed my car with as much of my shit as I could and I spent 7 days on the road. I also stopped in to see my sister in Utah and stayed with them for about five days.

I reminisce on the times I spent with my ex-fiance. All the good times we had. Going to Cardinal baseball games, watching the most boring NFL game in the Edward Jones dome when the Seahawks came to town and we spent the entire time making fun of the low attendance. We went out to dinner a lot. And we had a great time with her parents. Her parents loved me and I adored them. They were hard-working, blue-collar shmucks like the rest of us. But they had their shit together.

When she walked out the door, it all stopped. The promises, the love, the get-togethers, the calls, the text messages…it all ended. Just like that. And I wasn’t mentally ready for something like that. In the 14 months we were together, I had formed a bond with these people. And as a member of the Armed Forces, my family away from my family is just as important. I don’t get to be around my parents as much as I wanted to or needed to be. So I latched onto her parents. Her Dad reminded me so much like my own father. He was smart, articulate, crafty and indeed a man of his word.

Her mother on the other hand, was a tad senile, in denial about her aging body but she had a good heart. She always told me she loved me. And would help me any way she could. But she has an obligation to her own flesh and blood. She must support her daughter any way possible. It’s what mothers do, right?

I knew life would go on. I knew the sun would shine again in my pathetic existence. But at that time, I wanted to die. I loved her so much. I think the only other time I really felt that in love was with my very first girlfriend. We spent so much time together before I joined the Army in 2000. I thought I had a life long partner.

I felt the same way with my ex. Buying that house together was a pretty serious purchase and it meant a lot of things for us. We had a life together. Well, at least a start. The both of us were essentially living the American Dream.

I remembered when she walked out, though. I felt like a broken man. I stood in the kitchen and I just dropped to my knees on the cold kitchen tile floor. I didn’t even brace for impact. I took the hard floors punishment full-bore onto my knees. It nearly crippled me. But that’s not where the pain was the greatest. My heart felt like it was going to explode. And I wanted it to. I just knelt there, hunched over with my face in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

At first, I wasn’t sure why I was so upset. Was it because I just spent thousands of dollars of my savings on an engagement ring? Or the fact that I wouldn’t be able to make house payments to the bank without her income? Or the fact that I’d probably have to voluntarily give up my new motorcycle? Or the fact that I’d have to say good-bye to Oscar, our German Shepherd puppy? Or maybe it was because I was now alone, again. Without anyone. In a cold, lonely, unlivable home.

The next four months were pure hell. And my next stop was Lincoln Trails Behavior Health in Kentucky.

 

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