I am not a big believer in dream interpretation or epiphanies that come in the night, but sometimes the subconscious is not a vague brew of labored symbols and fraught meaning. Sometimes it just is what it is.
Yesterday morning I woke up a bit breathless from a dream I had been having. In the dream I was beating the crap out of Timmy. I hit him with my fists, kicked him when he fell, a board with a nail at the end was featured prominently. Eventually his new girlfriend showed up - looking so emaciated as to resemble a holocaust survivor or walking skeleton (she is quite thin and it bugs the shit out of me) - and I beat her too. But here is the thing, as hard as I kept beating them, it had no effect, they were not injured. They were maybe mildly annoyed. And when I swung my fist, it was like punching through mud, so much effort for absolutely no return.
And this is exactly what I have been doing in the real world but with my words. I have taken verbal swing after verbal swing at him to no effect. I want a reaction, some sort of reaction, but I don't even know what.
Do I want to shake his fists at heaven cursing his own name? Yes. Do I want him to rend at his clothing regretting every decision that lead to him losing me? Yes. Do I want him live in neverending despair because he destroyed the one person who loved him best in the world? Yes. Is any of this going to happen? Well, considering he didn't have the emotional maturity to say "Hey, I may not be happy in our marriage anymore and I think we need to talk about it" then probably not.
I want a reaction be it sadness or anger. I feel the need to poke at him until I get it. But it is useless, even in my dreams. Not to mention the emotional toll it takes on me. I madly type texts with tears streaming down my cheeks or shout to my phone's voice recognition until it is covered in angry spittle. He is not capable of giving me anything I want anymore much less the emotional response I am looking for (and honestly, no response could ever be enough to satiate me). So, I am going to stop.
No more angry texts, no more sad texts. No mentions here or on facebook unless directly related to parenting or the sale of our marital home. Nothing. He doesn't get anything more from me.
A story: a couple of weeks ago, I was having a phone conversation with him about something kid related and it devolved into a shouting match (funnily, we never ever ever fought while we were married!) and after he hung up on me - his favorite tactic!- I pulled over my car and started stomping into the nearest store for a bottle of chocolate milk. I love milk. I love, love, love chocolate milk. It is really bad for me, especially in the amounts I drink it (or I should say drank it, as I gave it up officially last week- high five!). But as I was marching in, something overtook me and actually said aloud "NO!" and turned on my heel and went back to my car. I gained a lot (A LOT!) of weight while married to Timmy and have been very successful at losing it recently. I decided right there in that parking lot that he would never get another pound from me. Before I was eating out of happiness (try being married to an italian chef, y'all and you will think you are happy too!), fuck no was I going to eat out of sadness for that bastard! Not one more pound for him.
So, not one more word for him. These are the last: good fucking riddance.