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translations

i can’t sleep. i’ve been lying here for a couple of hours, tossing and turning. desperately trying to shut off my pea-sized brain, that has decided to run a marathon instead of resting.

i’ve had such a defeating day. insult after insult. endless poking and pushing. gaslighting. my brain is so exhausted from the onslaught that i’m surprised i haven’t just collapsed and passed out. my husband…we had a rough day. we’ve had a rough weekend.

i’m laying awake right now, mad at myself for not being able to be whatever, whoever, he wants. if i could just figure it out…then perhaps he would love me. like me. be kind to me. but i’m always screwing up somehow. i’m never who he wants me to be.

i’m never who i want to be with him. i get so caught up in the whirlwind of conflict that i just can’t focus sometimes. conflict and i…we have never gotten along. some people are good at it. i’m not one of those people. and i’m sensitive. i take things personally. i do. i get hurt a lot.

it has been said that i give my power away. to that i say that to love another is to give them some of your power. it’s foolish to think that you actually contain all the control. in any relationship. and if you really open yourself up to love…then the other person will always have power. power to hurt you. power to fill you with joy. power to make you happy and laugh. it goes all ways. power to scare. power to worry.

any true and real relationship is only made true by the voluntary sharing of power over each other.

my husband does have power over me. yes. i did give him that power. it’s a relationship, full of give-and-take. it’s just a shame that he uses his power to inflict pain. i, too, have power over him. i am sure that, since i am far from perfect, i inflict pain and various other negative emotions as well. the difference, though? i feel awful when i do. i am constantly making a conscious effort to be better.

but good enough is never good enough. so i contemplate into the wee hours ways i can try to be what he wants. i fail, though. i fail on a second-by-second basis, it seems. i am just not…good enough.

i find myself, as i lie in bed alone (he sleeps in one of the guest rooms), also thinking about another. when i was young and under the giant misconception of perfect, romantic and ideological love…i never understood how a person could be in love with more than one person at a time. ah, to be young again. to believe in the fairytale of life and love…before life and love ruined the fairytale. i always just knew that when i found the one that that would be it. i’d never love another.

it’s unlikely i am married to the one. years and years of emotional, psychological and (sometimes) physical abuse has me convinced now that there is no the one. i have consistently made very poor choices in men since i started making man choices. i’m sure it’s pessimistic and cliché of me to say this…but men are, as a whole, assholes. wait! before you start yelling at me and getting your feathers ruffled…let me rephrase. the men i have known, know, are assholes.

HOWEVER, not all men are assholes. i have known a couple of kind and decent men who are full of love and gentleness. who have great character. i’ve just never been smart enough to choose one of those men. i mean, i thought i had with my husband. he’s the only man that has been able to fool me. on so many things.

the other man i am laying awake and thinking about tonight is a good man. an honorable man. full of integrity. i suppose the thing about good men? they are too good for me. way more than i will ever deserve.

we have been friends for a long time. i suppose he knows more about me than most. you know how i am not one to talk about details and specifics of my life. i like to think that i know a great deal about him, too…but i don’t know if that is true.

he’s the only person in my entire life that i have gotten to just be myself with.

of course, until i fucked everything up. because being myself is always such a huge mistake. and i should have known better. it’s ironic tonight. i am laying awake, angry at myself because i can’t seem to be who/what my husband wants. and i am laying awake tonight, heartbroken, because i can no longer be myself with the one person i trusted in this world.

he wants happy-go-lucky. he wants things to be simple and easy again. he wants…the fake me. so i suppose i am angry at myself for letting myself be…me. i knew better.

love is a funny thing. we have no control over who we love, this i believe. but we do have control over what we do with that love. our choices and actions based upon that love. i chose wrong. i should have kept my love a secret. i should have guarded it just as tightly as i guard everything else inside of me. it should have never crossed my lips and entered this world. it only caused complications, heartache, conflict…pain.

i am probably the stupidest person i have ever met. being serious. i’ve never quite been smart enough. God knows i’m definitely not pretty enough. my humor is…ok. maybe. i don’t know. average, at best.

i know that i’m no prize. i’m not even a runner-up prize. hell, i’m not even a prize that everyone gets nowadays just for “participating.” there is nothing worth while about me. nothing worth knowing, worth keeping, worth saving…worth loving.

i’ve decided that life would go on such much smoother and easier if i just could manage to remember one thing.

i need to remember my place.

yes. my place. i go about my days and somehow, even with my self-loathing and poor self-esteem, i become confused. i begin to think that i matter. i don’t know why. it’s not like i have anyone around telling me that i matter. lol. but it is that…that misconception about my worth, that causes problems and pain. if i could just remember my place.

what is my place? well, that’s the ironic part. i have no place. i am nothing. and if i could just manage to remember that, consciously, everything would flow so much better. sure…i would experience a bit more internal, emotional pain…but perhaps then i could finally be what they all want. i just need to remember my place.

like, with my husband. my place…i will never count. i need to learn to be ok with that. accept it. know that on his list of priorities…i will never make the top 50. he will always choose others and other things before me. basically my place with him is…servant. house maid. slave. laugh when he wants me to, speak when spoken to, never be too happy. my place.

i can do this. i can. i will. i just need to make effort to keep it at the forefront of my mind. that way i don’t forget where i belong.

nowhere.

and with my friend…the man i secretly love…i say secretly because i took it all back. i am becoming what he wants: happy. happy-go-lucky. he is the opposite of my husband in so many ways. i can never be too happy for him. he doesn’t like me subdued or sad. it’s hard for me to pretend to be anything with him that i’m not, though. sometimes it downright kills me. but…for him, i will do my very best. i’ll become my place with him, as well. and the cold hard truth of that? my place with him is the same as it is with my husband. my place-nothing.

to be what he wants is not so different, in basic principle, as with my husband. he, too, only wants me around when he wants me around. perhaps even the same in speak only when spoken to…

so…tonight i lay here contemplating who i need to become to keep these two men in my life. and after hours and hours (ok…days…months…years) i have finally figured it out. for my husband…a servant. for my friend…a jester. a subdued servant and a joyful jester.

honestly, i’m exhausted just thinking about how much work and effort will have to be done to be those two things.

you know what i really just want to be?

loved.

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