It's almost been 3 years since Carrisa had left, and I'm just now able to figure out what was going through her mind at least a little during that awful 6 years of torment I put her through. a few nights ago I went blog hopping as I usually do, keep up with my fellow artists and what genius images they are brewing. I went to my best friend Nate's blog, and I clicked on one blog that I hadn't looked at before, it was a literary blog filled with poetry and short story material, a story that this person was working on, it looked very familiar, and was written very twilight style. the characters I'd known, freaking out i found the authors bio. It was Carrisa's page one of three in fact. her scholastic and personal journal I was reading, a personal poetry blog, and a "what am I reading now and what do you think about it" blog. One of these inserts were familiar words of abuse and hatred. with the direct disclaimer "this is not about my ex". This got my brain going. She writes about all her abuses, there has to be one about me. Her truths become very self evident in her writings so I gave it a shot. I found what I was looking for in a passage non titled as she had yet to title it the photograph, or the monster in the saint or something like that, this was dated about a year after the double d day.
I read, each word opened up old wounds. Opened new ones. She described how she took a photograph that was hanging on our refrigerator, one I was actually look for not long after I had moved. This photo, my first time seeing my quasi-niece Aria, I was first on the scene my friend Dave called but with Carrisa gone I went alone. I got to hold her as Dave took the picture, I looked happy, I was happy, she was a beautiful baby. Those parents were so proud. They were those kinda people that were going to make a pair of fantastic parents. Having gone through our first miscarriage not long before this happened I couldn't wait for our chance. Hence the happy. Fast forward a year and a half. She took it with a "romantic image" of what she thought I was, and yet I had turned into this monster. would yell at her for going over to her brothers apartment once. Yelled at her for not talking to me, yelled at her for no reason. She was right. in the comments her sister in law Char stated everything that she thought about that time, how she didn't get to know Carrisa, she didn't know me other than the I was "superficial". Carrisa replied to her, she agreed that I was superficial around her family that she thought it was because I was nervous. It wasn't, Brett, her brother, was just boring as hell, Her mom was constantly blaming me, high and mighty so I didn't want to hang around her and her husband for very long. Her dad 4 times married was still telling me the fantastic stories about his ex wife, Carrisa's mom, and how much of a frost queen she'd become and how their sexual exploits turned into nothing, she was a Vampire!!! he would constantly tell me, all the real nitty gritty details that a son in law should know. didn't want to go there, his wife Meri? I think that's how you spell it, was nice as all anything, and her daughter was just amazingly fun but again didn't know them very well.Char was really the only one I was normal to yet still she thought I was fake, how fucked up is that? Carrisa admitted that she was withdrawn. She had always been that way, even around my family And my family had no problem telling me that after she had left. Carrisa ended that section of their conversation, " I look back and am able to see how twisted our whole relationship was. "
This was the middle of the puzzle that I was missing, I had the edges, now the big chunk in the middle, you know the real good part with all the flowers or a dog or that lighthouse. I guess I'm just trying to figure out the rest as a whole. Questions unanswered, how she has this totally skewed perception of who I am and who I was, and if her vision of me on that photograph was even real. How does someone who you've spent so many years with still not know that? Does she know that I tried everything in my power to try and make this work, of course in my own non medicated bi-polar way. Does she know what kind of wave of sanity came to me as I spent a month in pure grief of what I had done in a state of insanity, as a sane man. Standing outside her fathers house just to talk to her for a second as an apology brewed in my desperate head to gain some grain of compassion that was not deserved. Why if she kept this memento, her friend told me she still loved me, yet signing those papers, letting her dad manipulate the system for such a easy divorce. Everything that I was told pointed to a possible reconciliation, not one that would grow fast but a timed therapy and medication regulation, and couples counseling would inevitably fix. An eternal marriage was what I wanted to save, blocked at every turn, I tried to hang myself on July 27th, after an email that was sent by her account, the letter composed by her dad or her, I'll never know. it said that she didn't want to even try for one therapy session. I gave up.
It pains me, it hurts so bad that she can never know who I am, who I truly am, after so much work. I still question my wife now about how I make her feel and if I'm doing ok, is she happy. I should have given Carrisa these things but her isolation and my dominating abuse stopped that from happening. I'm sorry. In her poem she proposed burning that picture. I hope she doesn't, I hope somewhere inside she will still hold on to that one moment, where I truly shined as a normal human being, instead of the monster she expressed I am now.
What ever, this is all that I will ever get out of this experience, my only way that I can find some peace of mind that she's at least doing better, she's moving on. ya.....moving on..... I guess.
