Happily Never After...

A shortened version of my first marriage, ruined by addiction ~ alcoholism. After our divorce, he remarried, two more times ~ and has been divorced two more times. I walked away from this marriage and never looked back. I never hesitated, never regrett

Happily Never After…

As I stood at the alter of the garish, lit up with strings of lights and blinking signs, typical of a “Vegas” wedding chapel, the butterflies in my stomach turned to pigeons, disgusting and clumsy. The blood rushing to my face, and an almost feeling of fainting, mixed with the urge to vomit rushed over me. “What is wrong with me”? I thought to myself ~ I have been with this man six years. I have grown into a responsible adult. I have good credit, a house, a new car. I have a management position that I worked hard for, and gained at the age of 22. We have survived this relationship past all of our friends. Teenage, high school romance, into adulthood. We made it. So why does this not feel like it should…my wedding day ~the happiest day of my life? Right? Why does it feel so bad…so wrong?

As the days turn to weeks, weeks to months, months to years…that question was answered. He wasn’t what I needed. He wasn’t what made me happy. He didn’t love me as I loved him. He was an alcoholic. I filled my life with work. I filled my life with material possessions thinking that would fill the void that was missing in my life. Huge TV’s, clothes, and jewelry. Things that mean nothing, and could be gone in an instant. No matter what I did, I could not stop the aching in my heart for someone to love me, as I loved them. I stopped taking birth control pills that I had been on since the age of 16. Thinking that a child would change everything, I decided that is what I needed to turn this marriage around. If there was a child, he would become a father, and be caring, loving and a “family” man. After all, his family was very “family oriented” . The rudest of awakenings came, when he told me he didn’t want any kids. This was just another problem that enveloped the marriage that was doomed from the start.

I struggled in my heart, my head and searched my soul. What can I do? I couldn’t deal with the pain of his alcoholism. I would sit and worry, pleading for him to just call home if he was going to drink. Many a night he came home late, after I was in bed. He would pass out barely realizing where he was, or even that he was home. He didn’t drive, thank goodness, simply rode his mountain bike so he wouldn’t have to worry about wrecking a car. The misery came, and there was pain deep in my soul. What had I done that would make him not love me ~ the way that I loved him?

Two days following Christmas one year and then some, after our marriage, I sat in our home waiting for him to return from work. I waited as the hours passed ~ 9, 10, 11 o’clock at night. No sign of him. No phone calls. Worry turned to anger, knowing in my heart where he was, that he was drunk. I packed an overnight bag, grabbed my alarm clock and what I would need for the next days work…and left. I went to a hotel a few miles from the house. I cried myself to sleep that night. I awoke disoriented, perhaps thinking this was all just a dream, but it was not. I prepared myself for work that morning, checked out of the hotel and went home to drop off my things. He was there, passed out on the sofa of the living room. He hadn’t even noticed that I was gone ~ nor do I think he cared. He awoke when I slammed the front door. He never asked where I had been, never asked if I was just getting home. He stood up, went upstairs and got dressed for work. That was the day I knew my marriage was not only a mistake, but that the relationship was done.

I filed for divorce a few days later, he was furious. When presented with the papers for the dissolution, he picked up a large vase and threw it across the room. That afternoon I went to the court house with polaroids in hand and filed a restraining order. He was served that evening.

I wanted the “Dream Day Wedding” ~ I wanted the “happily ever after”. What I got was an insiders view of the life of an alcoholic. What I got was the reality that I could never take the place of his drug, in this case alcohol. I couldn’t fix what needed to be fixed. It couldn’t be made to disappear with material things, and a façade of “the happy home”. Children wouldn’t fix this, they would only suffer as I did. What could fix this ~ was him. He had to want more from his life than a dependency on alcohol. More from his life than the bottom of a beer mug, bottle or keg. I needed someone to return the love to me that I gave to them. An alcoholic, drug addict, or any of the other addictive behaviors could never make me, our life, and “us” a priority before their drug of choice. Alcoholism and drug addiction is not a disease. It is a choice ~ and I chose not to live it.

Author's Note

This isn't an english class, so proper formatting and punctuation is not needed. And as before... honesty is appreciated, sarcasm and rudeness can be directed elsewhere. Thanks for reading!!

Reviews

[Goddessa]

Wendy, what an amazing story of strength and growth. I'm so glad you got out and I'm so glad I know you now. Thank you so much for sharing your life.

[Samuel Dickens]

I, for one, am very proud of you and wish more women could rescue themselves from such futureless situations. Thank you for bravely telling your story.

[Lyndsay Castro]

Well, this almost made me cry. Aside from a few details, it is my life. Thank you for writing this. It is well done, your imagery and logic and flow are great. This SHOULD be English class, because it's fantastic work! You do a wonderful job, and I look forward to reading more from you.