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BillysGirl2005

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 *I have not redone this, I am just submitting it all over in two parts for easier reading*

It all started with a big fight. Jason came home from work and I had supper waiting for him like I usually did. Fries and chicken strips sitting in the microwave to keep them warm. I was in a so-so mood that day.

Not sure why I didn't feel all that great. He came in and sat his stuff down, came over to me and gave me a hug, keeping me wrapped up in his arms after the embrace was done. I didn't know why he was hugging on me. The last month or so all I had gotten was a quick kiss before he went to work.He never seemed to want anything to do with me anymore. Why would he be hugging me now? And as soon as he opend his mouth I got my answer.

"I think we should try to get that house." he said. The house he was talking about was made out weird and I didn't like it. And besides that it was way more a month then we could afford and it was right down the road from his possesive friend that I did not like.

Before I could think I said what was on my mind. "You just want that house because Dan lives right down the road."

All of a sudden he pushed me away from him, anger in his eyes.I felt my stomach drop. Why did I say that?! God, I'm so stupid. I should have just kept my mouth shut. "I don't want it just because Dan lives next door." he yelled. And that's how it began. I can't remember all the specifics. I think I must have blocked them out of my memory. All I remember is the yelling, me walking away and him coming after me to yell more and ask questions I didn't want to answer, answers that I couldn't explain. How he never wanted to spend time with me, but how he could always find time to go off and hunt or some stupid junk with Dan.

How Dan always chose him over his own young family. Why I hated him for taking my husband away from me.     

Things that Jason was too blinded to see. In the kitchen I opend the microwave door and told him that I had been waiting for him to come home, that I had dinner ready. How all my work was just a waste now and I threw the food on the floor. The fight we had was the worst one we'd ever had. Both of us threw things, yelled, cursed. I told him that I was never perfect enough for him.

He told me that he never said he wanted me to be perfect. I told him he didn't have to. On and on it went. He blamed my parents for some of our marital troubles. I argued back that they were only helping us and if he didn't want the help then we didn't have to take it.

I tried to get him to see that we could work things out. I apologized I don't know how many times. It was like he wasn't listening to me or maybe it was because he just didn't care anymore. He started to pack his stuff. He wanted to take my car so he could go to his parents house. I told him that he wasn't taking my car, especially if he was leaving me.

He told me to take him then. I told him that I wasn't going to drive him to his parents. So he said he'd call and have someone come pick him up.

I became frantic. I tried to talk reason into him, he wouldn't listen. He said he was sick of it all. That he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take it anymore? What a laugh. I was the one staying up all night so I could wake him up at 3:00, 3:30 in the morning so he could make it to work. I was the one waiting there all day as he worked long hours and didn't come home untill 6, 6:30 at night. Waiting there making his dinner before he got home and wondering if he was really at work.

I had been the one who cried myself to sleep at night so many nights, laying by the edge of the bed while he slept feeling like I wasn't wanted anymore. Some nights I went and slept on the couch, hoping I would wake up before he did so I could creep back to bed without him knowing I had been gone. I was the one who felt like he didn't love me anymore. I had been fighting depression for months. I was the one who held it all inside, telling no one not even my best friend. I was the one who was secretly scratching my arms with one of my steak knives after we'd get into yet another fight over the phone over stupid things. Things he made me feel responsible for. Things he made me feel like I was useless.

But, in the end it was he who decided to leave. And it was I who stood there trying to give him a reason to stay.

Only to fail once again. After the fight was over, tears stained my face, the house a mess from things thrown, food all over the kitchen floor, the dogs in hiding scared of our anger. His mom and sister drove up and parked in our driveway waiting for him to come out. I made one last attempt to make him stop, he closed his ears to me and turned away.

"We're not over." I told him as he walk down the steps. "We're not over untill we stop loving each other." I'm not sure if that's the exact thing I told him. But he never said a word. He just left me standing there, his mom looking like she didn't know what to do, and his sister giving me a look like I had done this as she helped him with his bags.

Nobody helped me they just drove away. And when they were gone I headed back into the house and my heart broke.