My point is, they were fighting this morning. My mom said he should go live with his sister in Oregon. And he took his keys and left for work. Now it's an hour past the time when he should be home, and I'm here waiting, secretly praying that he's gone for good.
I don't know. I mean, he's been better since he started work again. -Not quite as much yelling and angry stares. Sometimes he even tries to hold a reasonable conversation with people. But still, I only talk to him when I have to. I can't forgive him for the way he acted all those years; for what he put us all through. I can't let myself get close to him because I know what he's capable of. Who knows when one of his 'reasonable conversations' will to turn to yelling? It happens all the time, without notice. Deep down, he hates us all. He even says he wishes he'd never gotten married and had kids. I don't hate him, perse; I just wish he wouldn't come home.
Why do they stay together? Why? I've asked myself that over and over. Marriage shouldn't be like that; torture for everyone involved!
I know as soon as I finish writing this, he'll come home. He always does. And then he'll sit in his chair and glare at the wall and complain about how awful we all are. And then he'll eat the dinner I cook and start yelling objections whenever someone compliments me on it. And he'll go to bed and I'll have to tell him good night like a good girl and everything will start all over again the next day.
God, what if he really does quit? What if he's off work again? I can't even bare the thought.
Please, please- just keep me in your thoughts, everyone.
Darnnit. There he is, home again.