Of course, it didn’t happen overnight. It takes a very good reason to lose all feelings for someone you’ve lived with for more than 10 years and had children with. But I clearly remember the moment when life was divided into before and after. That’s what I want to talk about.
To begin with a very short story about my ex. He is handsome, brutal, bright and talented alcoholic. Manages to make an absolutely stunning impression. He is practically a media personality in our town – he worked on television for a long time. To tell you the truth, when I married him, people envied me and said so straight out.
I understood who I was marrying. So all sorts of manifestations of narcissism and other narcissistic tricks of him I treated calmly. But what I could not stand it, so that my beloved handsome boy will be tested by a whiner and a snot-nosed son of a mother.
A woman can make a hat, a salad, and a scandal out of anything. My husband could turn any situation into a cause for misery, anguish, sobbing, and depression. At such a moment he was lying on the couch, and he was supposed to sit next to him, hold his hand and listen to what he was saying nonsense. All this was filled with alcoholic beverages of varying degrees of strength.
But even this could be tolerated. After listening to him suffer a couple of times, I gave up on it and just ignored his tantrums. But he had another grateful listener – his mother!
Mom is a holy person, “the most important word in every fate.” But how sometimes her excessive love can ruin a child’s life.
My husband’s mother couldn’t handle the fact that her “little boy” had grown up. At every sneeze or fart, she would start to fuss, at 40 she would take him by the hand to the clinic and stick money in his pocket. Except she didn’t try to breastfeed him.
My brutal male was rebuffing me for the sake of appearance, but in fact he was waiting for such motherly care. From me, too, apparently, but he didn’t wait.
And finally, the beginning of the story: how I realized that I could no longer live with this man.
The four of us spent 2015 together. Me, him, our one-year-old daughter, and his mom. I didn’t have anything against this arrangement-my mom helped set the table, and she took care of my granddaughter.
By 12 o’clock at night our star boy was grunting like a pig and laying on the couch. I suggested that my mother-in-law leave him alone and have some champagne in peace. But she started clamoring, “Oh, he drinks and hardly snacks!” And started spoon-feeding my husband Olivier salad! And this drunken, 40-year-old brat was lying on the couch, obediently opening her mouth!
I almost puked. And I realized that I’m redundant in this family. More precisely, I do not need this stinking of breath baby, which my mother-pensioner is fed from a spoon, and in the future, apparently, will have to feed and me.
