Broken Window Serenade

A couple of pretty flowers
Is what I brought to you
I saw you through a broken window
With a different point of view

You had signs of depression
From a long line of sin
And your face tells a story
Bout the places you have been
I loved you so
I thought you should know

And you feed your addiction
With your crystal meth
And I plead for your life
As it takes you to your death

You make your deal with the devil
As your looks begin to fade
I saw you laughin through the tears
As you slowly slipped away
I watched you go
I thought you should know
Yeah I watched you go
I thought you should know

A couple of pretty flowers is what I brought to you
I saw you through a broken window
With a different point of view…

~Whiskey Myers

Sometimes, the lyrics in a good song do a better job of saying what I’m feeling, than I could. Besides my mother, I’ve watched as several old friends lost everything to addiction. I have also seen more than one friend beat their addiction. You can’t begin to heal your addiction, until you acknowledge it, though. This is why I’m confident my mother won’t. While I wish that could be her story, one that I might even be able to write in again, I very much doubt it. Unfortunately, she’s just too far gone. This is why I’ve wished she’d died, instead of “lived” like this. I can’t put into words how difficult it is to lose a parent. To lose them, but they’re still here. To “lose” her, because she left me. I mean, maybe she never really was with me, anyway? I had such high hopes for us, though. Naive? Ignorant? Selfish? Maybe. But, I had so hoped we’d have a healthy relationship after she’d straightened up, years ago. She never apologized for my childhood. I forgave her, anyway. I did it, because she’d begun to show up for me. I truly believed I mattered, for awhile. I long for that feeling. Being assured that I’m loved. I’m enough. That she might even think I’m great. To know that my mom is proud of me.

If she ever did care, she definitely doesn’t anymore. I’m not sure I can do a good job explaining this, but I’m going to try. While she was here, in my city, I’d worried that she’d try to come to my house. I’d spent those days on edge. Once she was gone, back to where she lives now, I didn’t feel relief. Instead of taking that deep breath, celebrating that stress coming to an end, I felt sad. It hurt me. As much as I didn’t want to have my psychotic, screwed up mother show up at my door, I was deflated when she didn’t. She didn’t even try. She didn’t want to see me. I don’t know how many times I have to be told, I don’t give a shit about you, until I’ll be able to accept that she doesn’t. Logically, I get it. There’s still this little girl inside me, who’s pleading for her mama to want her. I simply cannot rationalize how a mother could do this to her child. I would fight until my last breath, for my babies. I wish I had a mama willing to fight for me…

Thankfully, what I do have, is some amazing people who are here for me. While it’s impossible to replace the missing piece my mother has taken, my life is very full. I’m blessed with a whole lot of love and support. We had a great evening, with Justin and Jackie. We sat out on the deck, enjoying the beautiful weather, and a couple drinks. Adam was running a little late, so I’d offered to go ahead and start the bacon, for our BLT’s. This was his response,

He cooked the bacon, when he got home, and our supper was delicious. Justin and Jackie left around 9:00pm, and then Adam and I went to take our shower. I was in a silly mood. I’m also PMS’ing. I can get a little bitchy, quickly. I didn’t intend to be quite so difficult, but I kinda was. I challenged him on literally everything he said to me. I did this gesture, where you take your thumb to your mouth and flick upward. “I bite my thumb at you” kind of thing. Adam didn’t know what that meant, so I started laughing. This is the point where he had had enough. I could see it immediately. He knew I’d done something offensive, but not exactly what. He wanted me to explain, but I didn’t particularly want to do that, at this point. He was getting angry with me, so I told him. It’s pretty much a different way to flip someone off. I also mentioned that I wished I hadn’t shown him, or told him what it means, so that I could’ve used that the next time he annoys me. I was a little bit arrogant, in the way I talked to him. He noticed. He informed me I’d crossed the line, and he’d had enough. Even then, I wasn’t exactly willing to humble myself, yet. The stubborn in me was taking over. I’d started out only intending to make Adam laugh. Instead, I’d insulted and disrespected him. I know I recognized this, but I wasn’t ready to admit it. I pushed back pretty hard, continuing to allow every single thought I had escape my lips. Adam got very quiet.

When we got out of the shower, Adam handed me the towel I wrap around my hair, and then wrapped a big towel around my body, like he always does. I continued to have an attitude, while we dried off and got our night clothes on. Albeit, a much less intensely disrespectful one. He gave me his sideways grin, and told me I’d find out what he thought in a little bit. He said I wasn’t going to sleep very comfortably, tonight (last night). I glared at him, and told him I had much more fun plans for him. I said I wouldn’t be in any mood for it (sex), if he busted my butt. He said it was a sacrifice he was willing to make, for the greater good. Then, he walked over to me, and spanked me hard and fast, at least 10-15 times. I dropped to the floor, after he released me. I looked up at him and asked him, “Are you done now?!” He walked toward me, with his hand held out for me to grab hold of, so he could help me up from the floor. As he pulled me upright, he told me, “Not even close.” This was when I knew, for certain, he was serious.

We tucked the kids into their beds, and brushed our teeth. I took my sweet time applying lotion to my arms and legs. I put all my face products on. I walked over to my nightstand, by the bed, and put on my lip mask moisturizer that I use every night. Adam was laying in bed. I climbed in, next to him. He put his arm under me, and pulled me closer to him. I thought, for a second, maybe he won’t spank me anymore tonight, now? That thought was barely finished, when he interrupted, asking if I was ready. I gave him a pitiful look, as to silently try and prevent what was coming. In one quick motion, he had flipped me onto my belly. He pulled the t-shirt I was wearing up, my panties down, and spanked me as hard and fast as he had done earlier. I tried to wiggle away, but he had me pinned down good, this time. Just as I was about to cry out, he stopped. I was so relieved it was over, or so I thought. He lectured me, in his stern “dad” voice. That’s what the kids call it, when he’s stern like that. I didn’t hesitate to give him the responses he was looking for, after each question asked. I hoped maybe he would let me up, if I stopped trying to challenge him. It didn’t work. He gave me another painful round of smacks on my backside. This one was even worse than the others had been. I cried, “owwwwwieee”. I know that’s a super childish thing to say, but it’s what often comes flying from my mouth, when something really hurts. That, and “golly”, when I’m frustrated, but don’t want to curse. Finally, Adam released me from his grip. He laid back down. I rolled over and sunk my head into his chest. He wrapped his arm around me, once more, and we went to sleep. Indeed, I did sleep fitfully. Lots of tossing and turning, through last night. At one point, my sleep was interrupted, when Adam patted my butt. It was just one “love tap”, but I immediately cried “OWIEE”. That light little smack actually did hurt, too. Woke me right up from my sleep. He let out a quiet giggle. I refused to say anything more. He just pulled me closer to him, and we went back to sleep.

I need to apologize for my behavior, last night. I need to let him know I am sorry. The dawn of a new day, often shines a different perspective on a situation. I’m clearly seeing how crappy I was treating him, in the shower. I was a bratty, mouthy, cocky wife. Not my best moment. Definitely not how I want to be toward my husband. Submitting isn’t always natural and easy. Sometimes, it’s hard. Even when it’s something I want to do, the temptation to buck against it remains an issue for me, every so often.