Ah Yes, Love does indeed suck ass…

…but not in a cool way.

 

I mean, honestly. You must appreciate what I mean when I say I was frustrated and felt like it could not get any worse. This person who I felt a strong connection with cooks me dinner for Valentine’s Day and then follows it up with a song he wrote called “Love Sucks Ass”. What the actual fuck? Insult to injury, he told me that this precious screen play he was writing about the love of his life and how that love came to be, had the perfect part in it just for me… I could be the rude waitress. Really? Are you kidding me? Kiss my ass. Is that rude waitress enough for you?

I digress…

I had not been feeling really well for a few days. Run down, crabby, achy… it was rough. I thought that maybe the late nights, shitty eating habits and general stress of my life and situation had finally gotten to me. Imagine my surprise when I find out that my life was not my own anymore… I was pregnant. I was scared but not about the baby, more about how Bryan was going to react. Was he going to freak out and refuse to have anything to do with me? Was he going to leave? Was he going to be angry? There were so many possibilities but I knew that him being happy about my pregnancy was not one of them.

I did not choose the best way of telling Bryan about my pregnancy. I waited until a night he was out with his brother and probably too inebriated to receive that level of information. Though I had already had low expectations, what followed was far worse than anything I was expecting. “My life is over”, “my family is going to disown me”, “I do not want to bring a child into this world”. It was horrible and I felt completely alone.

In the weeks after that, my heartbreak over this blessing I had been given, turned to complete anguish. I woke up one morning and was rushed to the ER. After an ultrasound and some blood tests I was told that a cyst had burst, causing an infection. It was likely that I was having a miscarriage. Further blood tests in the following days showed that to be the case. I was given a DNC, some birth control patches and sent on my way. Somehow the grief that I was feeling was overshadowed by the complete relief that I saw in Bryan’s eyes. It was devastating but a reality and I think it was at that point that I became numb to all of the feelings inside of me… good or bad, it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing really did.

Bryan had been spending a lot of time with me which caused a strain in his friendship with his roommates. Bryan needed a place to live and I just happened to have one, so he moved in with me. Admittedly, it wasn’t much but it was mine and I had worked hard for it. I always felt like Bryan shit on that minor accomplishment of mine which only helped to fuel my already low self-esteem. To me, it was just a reminder that I would never be anything but second (maybe even third) best to him. I did not understand how someone who had broken him so badly could still be better than anything that I had to offer.

A lot happened in the month (or so) that he lived with me. Tires were slashed, death threats were made… it was an uncomfortable situation for both of us. One weekend, Bryan told me that he had to meet his ex to sign some IRS paperwork and he would be back the following day. I thought nothing of it at the time but looking back, I should have been suspicious that he did not invite me to go along with him. You know, make it a night away from the stress. That night, I called him multiple times and no answer. Text him, no response. I knew. I knew what was going on. I knew where I stood. I knew that I was nothing more than a place to live and someone to occupy some time. I had known it from the beginning and was so pissed off at myself for allowing someone to have THAT much power over me. He was not emotionally available and I knew it. I was expecting him to change, to wake up one morning and finally realize that I was enough. When would I learn?

And then I got sick…

But like a sick where I could not keep anything down. I knew that the patches had some side effects and that nausea may be one of them but this was ridiculous. I remember going to a district meeting with 2 other managers and going to the grocery store to buy some grapes… because I needed to eat something, why not grapes. It was horrible, I had to ask the driver to pull over in Moorpark so I could hurf. I was miserable. Bryan was not very understanding. I then broke out in this horrible rash…everywhere. Prilosec was not helping my tummy issues and Benadryl was not even making a dent on my irritated skin. I needed off of this patch and on something else. So, I went to the doctor. This is the conversation that took place that day:

Me: “Seriously, I can not eat anything and I feel like I have poison ivy all over my body…but like ALL OVER MY BODY!”

Dr.: “Let me see. Wow, it really is all over your body.”

Me: “Did you think I was kidding? You have to change this birth control because the patch thing is not working for me”

Dr.: “You’re right when you say that it isn’t working because you’re pregnant”

Me: “WHAT?!? I am on the birth control patch!”

Dr.: “Well, the patch is less effective if you weigh over 150lbs.”

Me: “I would have needed like 7 patches! That is something that you probably should have told me before, don’t you think?”

Dr.: “Nothing is 100%”

Me: “This can not be happening”

ultrasound

 

After the initial shock wore off, it turned to complete panic. “What in the hell am I going to do?” That was all I could keep thinking. I knew that one thing was for sure, I was not going to tell Bryan. I took about 2 weeks and really weighed all of my options. I knew that this was not what Bryan wanted… but I really did. It was then that I determined that the best thing for all of us was for me to break all ties with Bryan. Pushing him away would give me the fighting chance to make this work and it would save my heart from being broken again. I knew that emotionally, he was not able to be supportive of the situation. If I kicked him out of my house, he would have no choice but to move back to the East Coast and be out of my… our… lives forever.

So, that is exactly what I did. I told him that he needed to find another place to live. He did not understand why. I must have looked like a completely psychotic asshole but to me, that was better than being the heartbroken fool. It was one of the hardest things I had done. Not talking to him every day was torture. Not being able to see him, misery. Not being able to hug him or kiss him, despite all of my best efforts, it shattered my soul.

Bryan was the first to call me. I was surprised but relieved. It had been a really long month for me. I was still miserably sick and had dropped about 25 lbs. He told me that he wanted to get together for dinner, he wanted to talk to me about something. My heart immediately jumped, thinking “he has finally come to his senses”. I was wrong. That night at dinner, he commented on how great I looked. I was so pissed he would say that to me. 1) I had been so fucking sick 2) flattering me should not have changed anything… but it did. Bryan told me that his transfer had been approved and he would be making the cross-country drive back home around Thanksgiving. And there it was.

I was happy for Bryan. As I said before, he is brilliant. He was going to go back to school, find something that he was passionate about and get his life back on track. I knew it was for the best. I knew that this is how it was supposed to be. I knew that he was finally going to be able to be content with his life, be near his family and maybe even his marriage would somehow fall back into place and he would be with his true love. I was happy for Bryan and the great things happening in his life but none of it included me…us.

My mother was extremely supportive the day that I told her that I was pregnant. I called her at work, a crying mess and she said, “take a deep breath, stop crying and we will talk about this at dinner tonight”. We did. My mom tried to process everything over our meal and remained very calm with the help of a couple of margaritas. She assured me that though this was not the best case scenario, everything was going to be okay. I needed that… I needed her. We had a very strained relationship in my teen years and through the poor decisions of my early 20’s but she was supportive at a time when I felt completely alone and overwhelmingly scared. She encouraged me to share the news with Bryan before he left because he deserved to know.

I didn’t tell him though. There was no way that I was going to trap him. I was not going to spend my life with someone who was with me out of obligation. I could do this by myself and I fully intended to. The night before Bryan left, he asked if we could have dinner and say our “good-byes”. I agreed because deep down, I was in complete agony at the thought of living my life with out him. I am and always have been a very strong woman, I knew I could do this but I didn’t really want to.

At dinner, my mother’s words ran through my head over and over. “he doesn’t deserve to be a dad…but he has the right to know he is going to be one”. I had this lump growing in my throat which was making it increasingly more difficult just to carry on regular conversation with him. I could see his excitement about this new chapter in his life. I saw this light in his eye that I had never seen before. Despite all of that light and joy he had I knew I had to tell him.

He was so angry, understandably so. He said things like “what do you expect me to do?”, “I have nothing left here.”, “I am leaving tomorrow!”. I sat and listened to him process this news that I had just thrown at him. I knew that he must be so torn. I knew that the good person inside of him was trying to figure out how he was going to move forward from this with out being a complete asshole. He had been set up to fail and I knew this.  “You are going to go back to New Jersey, go back to school and be happy again. That is what you have to do.”

I placed my head on his chest that night and waited for his breathing to change, indicating that he was asleep, before I allowed the tears to come. I am not really sure why I was crying. I had created this mess. Why did I tell him? Why didn’t I just go along with the plan? It would have been so much easier for all of us. I didn’t sleep at all that night. I spent most of the night trying to absorb as much of him as I possibly could. Memorizing his features…the curve of his nose, the little crease between his eyebrows. I wondered if this baby would remind me of him every time I looked at him/her. Instantly, I had hoped so because I knew that these final few hours would be my last with Bryan. I reminded myself that this was what was right.

There were very few words between us in the morning. Bryan drove into the parking lot in front of my store and put his van in park. He looked at me and said, “are you sure you are going to be okay?”. I forced a smile and responded, “we are going to be just fine.” I got out of the van and walked into my store, locking the door behind me. I didn’t dare turn around and watch him drive out of my life because if I had, surely my heart would have stopped beating.

 

 

 

 

 

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About Water

I suppose that I am best known as Bryan's wife and/or Quentin, Zoe, Zali, Zannah, Quincy and Quaid's momma. Believe it or not, there is a lot of other shit that is fairly interesting about me... I just can't think of it right now.

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