Page 1 of At My Worst

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Bianca

“FU In My Head”by Cloudy June

My anxiety has been in overdrive all day long. I haven’t been able to stop pacing or crying. This is so much harder than I thought it was going to be. It shouldn’t be this hard to walk away, but I can’t do it anymore after ten years of trying, begging, and pleading to be loved. Talking doesn’t work. Making promises that things will be different doesn’t work.

Nothing seems to work.

If I stay, I will continue to feel alone, unhappy, and not good enough. I don’t want to live my life like this anymore, even though I love my husband. I don’t think he loves me, not in the way I do him.

I think he is in love with the idea of me, of us, but when it comes down to it, he isn’t happy. He just won’t admit it to himself or me.

He told me when we got married that it was for life, and that day, I believed we would be together forever. I never thought I would be the one to leave, but I didn’t have a choice.

I have to be the one to walk away. I have to be the one to do this for myself because if I don’t, I will remain here in this loveless, roommate marriage, and slowly, it will kill me.

I take a deep breath as I look at the clock. My husband should be at work by now. He won’t check in. He never does. He is busy, and I learned not to bother him at work because he gets annoyed.

I guess tonight it is a good thing he is like that. He will have no idea that I have left, not until he gets home, and even after that, he won’t, not really. He will think I am at work. He won’t know anything until I am supposed to be home. He will wait a few hours, then call me, and that is when he will find out I left.

The only things I am taking are my books and my clothes. He can keep everything else. I don’t want it.

I grab my last bag from the table and slowly look around the room one last time. My heart is racing so fast as I walk to the front door, and when I grab the doorknob, I feel the first tear roll down my face.

I feel like an ungrateful bitch, a brat.

I feel like I am going fucking crazy.

I shake my head, swipe the tears from my face, and turn the doorknob. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walk out the door, locking it behind me and down the steps to my car. I place the last bag in the passenger seat. My hands are trembling as I climb into the driver’s seat and take one more look at the house that looks so beautiful and perfect on the outside. But on the inside, it was lonely and empty.

Two people who shared the house and the bills lived in this house, but everything else was separate.

I don’t know when we got to the point where we were perfectly fine with being without the other. But here we are, here I am, staring at the house I thought I would be happy in, but if I am honest with myself, I haven’t been happy in a long time.

We became good at lying to ourselves, convincing ourselves that we were overreacting or that things weren’t that big of a deal.

But itisa big deal.

I inhale deeply as I back out of the driveway. Exhaling, I put the car in drive and head out of the neighborhood, disappearing into the blackness.

I don’t know where I am going or what I am going to do. All I know is that I need to find a place where I feel alive again and can find and be myself again.

“Don’t say you are sorry. You always say you are sorry, but then you do it again,” he says disgustingly.

I stand still in front of him, feeling my heart pound against my rib cage. I don’t mean to do things that upset him. It is not like I do them on purpose, but it doesn’t change the fact that he thinks I do.

“What do you want me to say then?” I finally asked, looking into his angry eyes.

I hate that look that deeming, look down on you I am disappointed look. I hate it.

“Just do what you say you’re going to do,” he says before he turns around, and I watch him leave the kitchen.

I try to do what I say. He takes things to a whole new level and freaks out over small things, things I don’t see as a big deal.

He says we are fine, but I know we aren’t because of how he acts. So I ask him over and over again until he tells me, and then he loses his shit.

This is a never-ending cycle, and I don’t have the energy to fight with him today. I am tired and have a lot to do. The best thing for the both of us right now is to be apart until we both calm down.

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