One day later and I have not returned home yet. I had a terrible nights sleep and I got up at 5 to go to work. Fortunateley I had a very busy day and I haven't had much time to think about the events of last night. I have suspected all day that when I finally have a minute I will be overcome by a retroactive wave of guilt, pain and desire to patch things up. Well, I had a 45 minute commute home with nothing but my IPOD to keep me company. Usually my best thinking time of the day, today was no different. I thought about the whole situation and how fuckjng depressed I am getting over it. But I didn't think about her like I thought I would. My job is a pain in the ass, my health is spiraling down the drain and my wife told me in a most convincing way that she hates me. And I don't have the luxury of believing that it was said in anger. I think she meant it.
I am amazed to find that I don't care about that. I don't hurt so much as I search for explanations. I have already asked myself how things got this bad but I know the answer to that. Through many years of trying to pound with all my might the square peg into the round hole. It hasn't been good for a long time. But how did she come to hate me? As far as I am concerned I am a flawed but generally liked individual. Nobody hates me, right? And who are they anyway?
Well, one of them is my wife and mother of my children. And before I lose everything I own, including the inalienable right to see my kids sleep in their beds at 2 in the morning I had better figure out why. Because it seems to be true. Tragic, cruel, seemingly irreversible and depressing as hell...but the truth.
So what do I do now?