Lying awake, in a strange town, on an unknown street, in an apartment not quite big enough for us; in a bed donated by a caring community. I toss and turn, unable to shut my brain off from the things that I have learned since leaving my husband on February 15th.
This man that I left, he’s not the man I married, it’s as if something snapped four or five years ago. Now, as I lie in this bed, I’m left to realize, even before landing in a shelter, I was sleeping in a stranger’s bed. I lost my husband a long time ago; and with the things that I’ve learned, there’s no turning back.
Trust is gone, not only for the man that betrayed me, but for all of humanity. As I piece together the puzzle that has been my life I realize that I can never, ever trust another with my children. The man that “loved” me has beyond damaged me, he has damaged our children.
So, I wonder, how do I build a future with my children where they can trust others? Especially if I can’t trust others?
I’ve given up on sleep as the thoughts run through my mind with frightening speed. Instead, I’m sitting at a small table, made for four, in our tiny kitchen and I wonder: Is there life beyond these realizations? If I can’t trust others, how will I survive?
My life, every ounce of breath that I take, is because of my children, and the community that built this shelter that we call home. I ache for a “normal” life, if there is such a thing, but I know that is my duty, to provide that for my children.
I wonder, how did I end up with such a monster? I’m not really sure, because he wasn’t always that way. I keep trying to remind the children of the good times that we used to have, but the more I learn, the more difficult it is to remember when things were good.