Can You Rebuild What Has Been Shattered Beyond Repair?

Saturday morning Killer got up and went to coffee and donuts with Norm like he did every weekend.  I got up and was just sick to my stomach.  I knew this wasn't over and I had to quickly figure out my plan of action. He was not going to let this rest. I knew him all too well.  He had spent the night in the bedroom planning and plotting his own little war against Cindy Marie and I had no idea what direction it was going to hit me from.

I went about my Saturday just like any other.  Laundry, cleaning, ironing and soon grocery shopping.  Killer came home and didn't say a word.  He changed his clothes and he mowed the lawn. Some thing had to give. This was not like him.  I had lied.  He had caught me red handed and than I stood before him and told him it was none of his business?  Had I lost my mind?

Nothing was said.  He finished the lawn and he came in and took a shower.  He changed and he called me into the library.  I figured it was time for coffee and a snack. I opened the door.  The TV wasn't on.  He was just sitting there looking out on the back yard with his back turned to me as he sat in his favorite rocking chair. "I think you have something to tell me and I've been waiting.  My patience is growing thin Beadie and I am not going to sit and wait patiently much  longer."  OH! You were waiting for me to come to YOU and confess my sins?  Silly me! I must have lost my common sense last week when I was plotting to leave you.

"Sit down." As any dutiful wife, I  sat. And for the next two hours not one word was spoken between us.  How could I tell him that I was leaving?  I looked into those eyes, the eyes I fell in love with. He looked like a lost puppy.  I could tell that I had wounded his heart with my words the night before and it just tore my insides apart.  I did love this man but love was not enough. 

I sat there and the pro and  cons all filtered through my thoughts over and over.  Was it worth it? To break his heart for what? So I could be happy? I had lied and I either had to confess and stay, living with the aftermath of lying and deceiving or I had to move on, but I was not ready to move just yet.  I had thirty days until I could take possession of my little piece of heaven. This little blimp on my road to freedom was not on the calendar.  I had not  planned on how I was going to tell him, but I had not planned on telling him this soon.  It was all perfectly timed in my playbook. 

Two hours.  Not one word.  Not a sound. Killer would get up to go to the bathroom or get a drink, but he always returned, not a sound, just sat there waiting for me to say  something. I kept looking at the clock, ticking away.  I didn't have a clue how I was going to tell him.  He'd expect an explanation.  It would have just been easy to say, "I'm leaving" and just leave it at that, but I knew he deserved an explanation.  I had never been given explanations when Scott and Neal decided to move on, they just moved on.  I had to do the right thing, but it was so difficult.

I eventually found my voice.  It was weak, but it spoke. "I'm leaving you."  Whew, that was it.  I told him, but it wasn't the end, he wanted reasons. Geez, it just took me two hours to say three words and now you want reasons?

How could I tell him why? I could hardly convince myself that the reasons were valid. But I sat there and started checking them off in no particular order. As I spoke them they sounded like such feeble excuses, but they meant some thing to me and they had piled up over the years adding weight with each straw piling on the camel's back until it shattered into tiny little pieces that I was unsure could be rebuilt.