It’s been a while since I’ve posted. At first I thought it was because I was happy. Once again I learned my happiness was a mere fabrication of an actual reality. Every time I think things are getting better…right when I feel my spirits lifting he finds a way to tear them down, claws dragging razor thin slits through the silken sheath that encases my heart. Letting them bleed out slowly to only intensify the pain.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt love. It’s been a while since I’ve felt passion. It’s been a while since I haven’t felt complete sadness. He told me on Father’s Day he cheated on me. On fucking Father’s Day while I was making his dinner and entertaining my friend Victoria and her three girls, he was getting naked with some random woman, Getting ready to fuck her without a condom. Not caring about my health or his own health or our son’s for that matter. He tells me she started talking to him at Elbo. He tells me he danced like an idiot with her after 12 shots of Jack. He tells me she asked him to walk her to where she was staying and then proceeded to make out with him and pull him inside. He tells me he wasn’t attracted to her. He tells me he stopped himself right before he entered her unsheathed and said, “I can’t. I love someone.” He tells me he then told her about Jashar and I.

How the fuck am I supposed to believe anything he tells me? The only person that knows what really happened was him. I don’t know how to think or feel anymore. I told him he makes me feel dead inside. He tells me about the man I love. The man I want to be with and stare adoringly at like he’s a god. The man I would do anything for and couldn’t imagine living without. He tells me about him constantly and how much he loves me. How he will love me forever and he never wants us apart. He tells me how I am the best thing that has ever happened to him. He tells me about my perfect life, more than I could ask or want for. Then he treats me like garbage. Hurts me like a sociopath kicks an injured puppy on his road to becoming the next John Wayne Gacy. And then he proceeds to lash out, miss work, become depressed, verbally violent and angry. Because he says He’s ashamed of his actions and how he’s treated me! Him again! It’s always about him. He rips my soul apart, and he’s the one who gets to act like an immature, emotional, angst ridden teenager!  What about me?!! When is it my turn to be allowed to feel?!!

I embarrassed myself yesterday at Blondie’s. I was having a few drinks getting an hour of breathing room, and one hour turned into two. Josh immediately started blowing my phone up. God forbid he give me some space ever and just hangs out with our son. He wants me trapped inside our little like a fucking nanny watching his kid and making him dinner. He mistreats me and he is such a selfish, controlling, narcissist that he can’t even allow me to breathe.  When I spoke to him, he told me to get the fuck home so he could pack up his shit and leave. He’s out of control. I expected my keyboard to be in pieces. He has threatened to break that on numerous occasions. Of course he wasn’t going anywhere. This is like some Game of Thrones dance to him. I am the puppet, and he is trying his damndest to master my every move.

I am trying to seek solace in my quest for confidence. I need to find it. I need to find passion again and embrace it tightly for all it’s worth. I am going to get a set together and start performing at restaurants. I have a great voice that I think people will like and I could make good money at it without having to put Jashar in daycare. If I work this right I could be making close to a thousand a week at minimum working hours. Chris wants to open a club. A Gatsby-esque sanctuary of atmosphere, spirits, and melody. He wants me to sing and partner with him on the creation of it. I would love for this to become a reality. It needs to. Music will heal me. Creativity will heal me. I need to feel my soul again. I need to hear it sing.