Saturday, July 18, 2009

a day to think. a day to feel.

i woke up this morning not able to keep my eyes open. i allowed myself to drift back to sleep, but woke again shortly after. i couldn't quite make out the time on the clock, so i woke mr. roll to ask him to tell me what time it was. yawning and stretching i grabbed my book to continue reading the story of julia childs years spent in france with her beloved husband paul. i am loving this book. julia and paul were so in love and so respectful of each other. they could finish each other's thoughts. they went on picnics together. they took drives. they loved trying new restaurants. they completely supported each other in everything. they loved hard. they loved deeply.
how does one find this kind of love? do you create it? does create you? how? where? when? when is it my turn for this kind of love?
i fantasize about it.
i imagine it.
i want it so bad i make believe it is happening.
today was no different. it's saturday and we've been looking forward to going to the king county fair. our lives have been so ruled by chemo for the last five years, we are still not accustomed to the fact that we can actually make and keep plans. we went to the fair. on the way to the fair we stopped at circle-k so mr. roll could get a diet pepsi, his form of caffeine. he said he was getting a hot dog too because he was hungry, at which point i reminded him that corn dogs awaited us at the fair. he'd wait for the corn dog at the fair.
at the fair we walked around and all seemed to be going well. i had already checked out the corn dog stands and found the one i thought looked best, so when i suggested it was time to eat as i was hungry for my corn dog, mr. roll was ready to eat too. we walked on over and he asked me if i had brought money with me? i told him, "no". he hadn't either. the corn dog were $5 each and then another $4 or $5 for a drink. he had enough to get one of us something.
i had been dreaming about a fair corn dog all week. i had talked about it to mr. roll and anyone else listening. who doesn't love a fair corn dog? i'm a vegetarian and i love them. i just do.
i told mr. roll to just get one and i'd be fine. not.
i don't do martyr well. in fact, i don't do it at all. i suck at it.
especially when i thought he'd offer to share his corn dog with me. or maybe forgo on the drink and get us each a corn dog.
he bought his corn dog and large drink, smothered mustard all over his corn dog and proceeded to the shade where he wolfed it all down without so much as a glance my way. stunned i walked away. hurt. stunned. mad.
seeing red. mad.
sitting on a bench over by the horse arena i went into a deep thought pattern trying to understand what happened. trying to understand why this continues to happen. trying to understand why mr. roll and i are married to each other. it's never going to change. it is always going to end like today ended. after an hour or so i walked back over, took my niece and walked over to the hypnotist, jerry harris. we laughed. she and i had fun. i needed to be hypnotized.
mr. roll and i have had a hard marriage. cancer invaded our bliss only 12 months after we were married. although we had dated for 5 years before we married , i don't believe we knew each other at all. we are so very different. cancer came. everything else was placed on a shelf and pushed in the farthest unreachable corner of a huge closet where it couldn't be seen and there was no risk of it falling off on me. i would fight cancer with every ounce of my being. study it. learn everything medical there is to know about it. fight it. never let it win. never allow it to get the better of me. i'm from hearty french peasant stock after all and i can fight it and win.
everyone believed the picture i created. me the loving wife caring for my husband with all the love i had to give. and i did.
i did.
deep down i was broken. broken. a pathetic broken fool. a failed martyr. how?
i don't know what mr. roll wants, but i want love. respect. spontaneous fun. love. to feel loved. to be loved. to close my eyes and smile.
i don't remember the last time i smiled. i don't remember the last time mr. roll touched me without my asking him to. sometimes i need a hug and i will ask him for one. it such a huge request and i don't do it often as he seems uncomfortable responding. i suppose the one thing the cancer has done is afforded him the perfect excuse to not have to love me. not have to feel anything for me or about me. on the other hand, if it weren't for the cancer he could be rid of me.
why do we stay married? maybe the cancer. maybe because neither of us has any where else to go to? maybe because.
one night last week i asked mr. roll to hold my hand while we were in bed and watching a movie. his response to me was "right now i'm holding bear's paw." bear is his beloved dog. he would do anything for bear and lucy. anything. too bad he doesn't have the same feelings for his wife. his wife is a nothing more or less to him. nothing. not even worthy of half a corn dog at the fair.
is it really a corn dog that started these feelings? not at all. the corn dog simply solidified reality for today.
i can't stand being at such a loss. to feel like i am floating around aimlessly though life with no direction. not going any where. so much is expected from me in regard to caring for mr. roll and caring for my mom. i'm not worthy of this. i am the wrong person to have the job. i don't want the job anymore.
i don't know who i am anymore. i look in the mirror and i don't know who the blank face is staring back at me. she's so sad looking. what happened to me? where did i go? is this all there is? didn't i read somewhere, like in the bible, that god has a plan for my life? is this the plan? because if it is i got a raw deal. i must have done something to really make god angry if this is the payback. i want off this life.
i want someone to love me. someone to share life with me that wants to share life. i need . . . love.

1 comment:

  1. ouch!! i just want you to know that i read what you have written here and my heart hurts along with yours. i hear ya - your words resonate and i'm sorry for what you're feeling.