It had been one of those days. I sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to come home. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I had to say something. The feelings inside of me were eating me alive. Sure, I had seen days like today before, but tonight I needed to tell him about the darkness and the fear I had been experiencing.
I became anxious when I heard the familiar chiming sound the house alarm made when the front door opened. He made his way down the hall turning off lights that were left on in uninhabitated rooms. He made his way into the bedroom, he knew where I would be, I felt safe there. I asked him to come into the room that I needed to talk to him. I couldn't wait any longer, I opened up, and began to tell him that I was pretty sure that I was depressed and I was scared. And that I did not know what to do. At that moment, the man I had married and had two beautiful children with, looked me in the eyes and said something I will never forget or forgive. He said "Well, if you think you are going to go crazy and run off, let me know so I can get a babysitter." He then turned around and left the room.
At that moment I thought to myself - Is this what love is? Is this the way a husband is to support his wife? Is this it? I was devestated.