I could be curled up in a cold bathtub clutching a bottle of cheap wine and lamenting my broken heart, but I hate being cold and I can clutch my cheap wine just fine right here in my cheap motel room on this bed which probably has Republican bedbugs lurking in the dirty linen.
I tried for three years. He had some “very fine” qualities, but he clung to his QAnon delusions and his right wing conspiracies, and ultimately I could not separate the person from his beliefs. I didn't mind his version of christianity - he kept his relationship with his god private and personal. But then his god became tRump, and he betrayed his own religious identity with his mean spirit and lack of compassion.
That's when I took away his capital C for Christian -when he made excuses for tRump murdering a baby at the border It seems to me that if Jesus was given a choice — to hear the fearmongering and hate speech of the racists, or the cries of the little brown baby dying a lonely death of diarrhea and dehydration - the Jesus that chooses the racists does not deserve a capital C. It sickened me when I finally grasped that my husband was one of those people who would choose to kill the baby instead of take care of it. And then he would use tRump's own words to justify his lack of humanity.
OK. I admit that I stuck around long after my conscience began to burn a hole in my soul. Maybe his mental sickness was always there, and I had deluded myself from the start. I so much wanted him to be the person that I believed he could be. I'd made extra efforts to interpret his actions as benign, to make excuses for his delusions, to act like it didn't matter that he had pledged his soul to the devil as long as I had a couple orgasms and he mowed the lawn. It turns out that the orgasms (nice as they were) weren't enough. At the end of it all when I looked into his eyes I saw someone who had fallen into the swamp, been sucked into the muck and had unholy relations with slimy invertebrates.
I may sound flippant and superficial now, but I had made an emotional and social commitment. I don't do things half-assed. It was like investing my life's savings and finding out that my funds were embezzled and the creditors are hot on my financial trail. I wanted it to “work". I sought counseling to try to stop my hatred of tRump, Moscow Mitch and the entire passel o' Republican thieves from tainting my marital relationship. But in the end, as it always ends with the fright-wing nutjobs, his commitment was to tRump. It wasn't to truth or success or progress or fairness. He would sacrifice his personal integrity, throw his family under the bus (his daughter is gay) and repudiate the loving message of his favorite Jesus for the sake of buttkissing tRump. He committed his heart and soul to Satan incarnate all the while wearing his sheep’s clothing and sharpening his teeth for the pleasure of savoring the flesh of dying brown babies.
I wondered how a man with such “potential” had arrived at such a desperate destination. Should I forgive him his lack of empathy because his biological father committed suicide locked in a mental institution? Does the fact that his brother committed suicide as well constitute an adequate excuse for his stunted moral growth? He dropped out of high school frustrated with his dyslexia. Would education have made a difference? Could intellectual enlightenment chase away the dark shadows of deplorable ignorance? I wavered between pity and disgust, trying to forgive him while wondering if it was a familial mental illness that had led him into his dark moral morass. Was this an inborn DNA defect? An inability to empathize? A propensity to project his self-loathing onto entire races? I wasted precious time and effort looking for justifications, inventing excuses.
Surreptitiously I perused the lists of narcissistic traits. I read and reread the warning signs of an abusive relationship. Was I hopelessly clinging to my manufactured ideation? Was I the crazy person — me with my crazy ideas about social justice? Was I being too harsh in my judgments? Was he a well-meaning but deluded Christian? Or was he the GOP style christian? The kind that get all weepy at the idea of abortion but smiled in glee as the brown baby girl squealed and gasped and shit herself to death. I struggled to reconcile my view of my loving husband with my vision of tRump paying off the DOJ to have Epstein murdered before he revealed tRump's pedophilia.
To clarify, my husband actually believes the QAnonsense. He believes that tRump is the good guy, the hero. The rest of us are just too stupid to understand that tRump is the SAVIOR. tRump is like Jesus in his sacrifice to humanity. tRump is bravely suffering the slings and arrows of unwarranted criticism as he AND Mueller are bravely fighting together to stop pedophilia. And he has an IQ of 160. And he's a grandmaster in chess. And he did not collude with the Russians, the Russians did not interfere in the election, and it is all Hillary’s fault. Unless it is Obama's fault.
You can see my dilemma. Love the person and ignore his odious belief system? How can you separate the two? I mourn the loss of another human soul. I can't even say he sold his soul to the devil because he didn't get a penny for it. He threw his soul away like piece of rotted hamburger, and didn't mind when the rats feasted upon it. He likes rats. He's a Republican.
So here I am. Me with my broken heart, my broken marriage and my bottle of cheap wine. If I can find any consolation in the situation it is that I am here in the cheap hotel room (with the Republican bedbugs) while he squirms and shivers in the car. He had a choice to come in, I gave him a key. But like a tRumpster he chooses to live in shit, eat dirt, be miserable, whine about it and then look around for someone to blame for his stinky feet and aching back. Yeah, I know all the guys are reading this and thanking their lucky stars they didn't marry a beeyatch like me. The reality is they are lucky they didn't marry who I married. Up here in the state of Washington we understand how hard it is to scrape that slug slime off the bottom of your shoe.
So good-bye dear Eric. You had a choice and a chance and you failed at both. You cared more about pleasing tRump than securing the future of your own family. Your desire to destroy overcame any fleeting impulses of humanity. I expect that Eric will grow up and act like a decent human being about the same time that tRump reveals his cheating fraudulent tax returns. In the meanwhile, I'm enjoying the sound of the trains roaring past the parked car while the homeless guy pees on the rear wheel. May your dreams be tormented by the whimpering cries of the dying brown baby.