The "Beginning of the End'!

The beginning of the end.....Our marriage was pretty much doomed from the beginning. After I gave birth to our first daughter I had this thought in my mind that we were supposed to be a "family". We all needed to have the same last name. As I reflect, I see where I went wrong. At that time he was already very distant, and not very kind. Example....Well, during my 36 hour labor with our now 9 year old daughter he was not supportive. He didn't tell me I was beautiful, he did not rub my back or even stand by my bed side. What he DID do was watch "Sex and the City very loudly in the labor room. Fake orgasms and all. I got the impression that some of the nurses were uncomfortable. However, he did not care. That was some of the most excruciating physical pain I have ever felt. I got induced and would not dilate pass six cm. When my daughter began to show signs of distress, I eventually had a C-Section. But only after he told me repeatedly to shut up when my contractions hit. Apparently my pain was interrupting his television watching. Fast forward to that night in the hospital. Something inside of me popped, and I ended up with a 104 degree fever. My child's father....no where to be found. Once the doctors finally broke my fever and I began to feel like myself. I started calling....he never answered. I cried so hard that night. I remember calling my mom's house and my sister telling me he wasn't there. That he was probably on his way up to the hospital.....Nah! He disappeared. He showed up the next day, with a whole lot of excuses though. He went out with his "homeboy" to celebrate the birth. They went drinking at "The Elephant Bar".....Guess what, the place they supposedly went that night has changed over the years. So as Maury would say......"THAT WAS A LIE". Anyhoo, I proved my point so I'll move on. The beginning of the end was Jan. 15, 2012, My Father died. My sister called that night crying to give me the news. I screamed, jumped up and grabbed my keys. My mother lived around the corner and I needed to be with her. My mom and dad had split when I was like 4 years old. But in that moment I needed to be with my only living parent. My then husband took my keys from me and told me to stop crying. I wasn't going anywhere. Sit down and be quiet. Over the next 3 days I tried frantically to get up enough money to get a plane ticket to at least be there for the funeral and he did not lift a finger to help. Six months after the fact I learned that his mother, with whom I had a rocky relationship with offered to help with the cost of the air fare. He told her no. SMH!!! At this point we had moved into a bigger place. I took the master bedroom and insisted he take the guest room downstairs. He had tried little things to get back in my good graces but I didn't care. I resolved that we just needed to tolerate one another until the youngest who was only one at the time got old enough for us to part ways. In 2012, this man completely abandoned me mentally, physically and emotionally. He literally tortured me emotionally. He lived two lives. He ripped my already damaged heart into tiny little pieces. There's a lot of ground to cover. So I'll break it up. I think about this crap often enough that if I write about it when the thought comes to mind, I should be able to free myself from it at that point. I pray God gets this story to the right ear. But for now, I must tend to the youngins. Be Blessed!!