The Beginning of the End

Our life is perfect. We have a beautiful house with a beautiful yard that overlooks the glistening waters of a swimming pond that teams with kids and families in the Summertime. My husband has a job that pays exceedingly well, which means that I don't have to work and I can spend all day home with the baby. We have our adult time after the baby goes to bed, and everything is in it's rightful place. Every puzzle piece fits, and sometimes I think that I'm living in a dream.

Our life is rather simple, now. It begins at around 6:00 daily with our labradoodle puppy Snickers jumping onto our bed and licking our faces. Then it's the baby around 6:20. I guess I should feel grateful that he slept so late every morning by the time he hit 4 months. He's a sound sleeper, a voracious eater, and he always has a smile on his face. He was classified in the 98th percentile for body weight by 2 months, and by 9 months he was already pretty much walking. 

Our routine is consistent. After my husband leaves for work at 7:00, I walk the dog and the baby around the neighborhood for several hours, listening to my audiobooks, making the occasional brunch plans with several girlfriends. When I get home I put the baby down for a nap around 11am, shower, make lunch, and watch my favorite reality television series Housewives of Beverly Hills. Is it wrong of me that I feel like my life is just as glamorous as theirs, but without the drama? I brunch with several of my girlfriends weekly, and go shopping for luxurious clothing. My nails are always done, and my hair-dresser calls me every 6 weeks to make my appointment for me. 

I have it all. I love it all. My life is wonderful. I have everything that I want, whenever I want, and I never have to worry about a thing.  It sounds conceited, and I'm sure that most of you reading this certainly think less of me for being a spoiled brat. 

Growing up, I learned the value of money. My parents were big into practicing the art of "tough love" and wouldn't take any of my bullshit. I had an allowance of $10/week, and a list of daily and weekly chores that were the length of my leg. That probably won't shock you, but when you were a 5'9" freshman in high school like I was, you had legs for days…I worked hard to buy my first car, which I then couldn't afford because I lost my job halfway through my junior year in high school. I was stuck taking the bus the last year and half of my high school career. 

I met Josh when we were both attending Columbia University in 1998. I was a freshman and he was a Junior transfer from the University of Florida. He was an athlete, playing basketball, football, and baseball, which took up the majority of his time. I was a bookworm who spent the majority of my time on the third floor of the library studying to ace my exams. He didn't seem to care that I liked to keep to myself, and I didn't care that he was always the life of the party, laughing, doing keg stands, screaming "chug it!" at other frat boys and pledges, having copious amounts of women on his elbows at any given moment, because at the end of the day, I knew he was coming home with me. Our relationship was built on fire. Passion like I had never experienced before in my life. He was like this caged animal and I was the prey, which was just how I liked it. 

He proposed to me my senior year over Christmas break. By this time, Josh's internship at his law firm was really taking off, and I was just working as a waitress. I was making good money, and we were able to afford our 1-bedroom Brooklyn apartment on one income. We were engaged for a year. During this year I worked part-time, the other time planning our destination wedding in Hawaii. It was perfect. We flew all of our friends and family out and put them up in bungalows on the island of Kawaii. Our wedding took place at Sunset, and I will never forget the look in Josh's eyes when I walked down the sandy beach aisle. He cried!

A year into our marriage we were pregnant with our boy Landon. My pregnancy was perfect. Everybody always says that the first pregnancy is the most difficult because your body has never been through it before, but I loved every damned second of it. From the way that my skin glowed, the way my husband looked at me, the way that I could feel that sweet little boy doing tumbles in my belly. It was the most magical experience. Even labor wasn't that bad. Only 2 hours in active labor and little Camden was in my arms. Josh and I were over the moon. Nothing could have prepared me for motherhood but I was full to the brim with the love I felt for my husband and our new baby boy that day, that month, and the year that followed. 

***

Lately, Josh's work had been requiring a lot of his time, and he has had to travel several times to different states and neighboring cities, leaving me home alone for several days at a time with the baby. It's been frustrating, painful, and I miss the absolute shit out of my person when he is gone. He knows this. He calls me every chance he gets. He texts me every chance he gets. The "I love you's" flash across my phone screen at all odds of the day and night and I know that he's working hard because when it's 3:21 in the morning on a Wednesday night, I know that he's thinking of me. We have it all and I could not be more thankful for the love that we have. 

That does not negate the fact that we have been having troubles. When he's away, I cannot help but feel helpless, alone, lonely, and quite frankly, abandoned. He also knows this. He knows because I tell him. It has caused the frequency of "I love you's" and "What's up, beautiful?" messages to decrease and it will occasionally be even 40 hours between messages or calls from him. I love him, I want him. I need him. But he's gone. Recently we got into a fight that was fueled by how much we didn't get to see each other. The hurt stemmed from not being able to spend time together, the disruption and lack of consistency within our routine. We’ve been sent into a whirlwind of turmoil. 

One morning, as I was out with Snickers and Landon, attempting to continue our routine without my better half, a message flashed across my phone screen. 

"I'll be home tomorrow afternoon. I MISS YOU. Let's stay up all night. Talking and making love like we used to when we were first dating." There was nothing more in the world that I wanted in that instance than to see that text message come across my screen. I smiled as I read that message, the butterflies fluttering up into my throat, thinking about rekindling our love for the first time in approximately 19 months. I slowly and tactfully scrawl the message, "That sounds wonderful. I want nothing more than that," back in an instant. Several moments later, a kissy-face emoji emerges on my phone, and instead of replying, I close my phone and put it back into the cup-holder of Landon's stroller. 

What Josh doesn't know, is that I do not plan on seeing tomorrow's sunrise. I won't be around to see our son's graduation, to watch him go off to college, to see him wait at the end of the aisle as his bride walks towards him to begin their life together. What Josh doesn't know is that there is a loaded 9mm waiting for me at home and a pre-recorded message on my in-law's message machine waiting for them in 3 hours when the arrive home from their hike in the woods. I planned this out to the T, where nobody would hear from me leading up to the moment my life ended.

What nobody knows, is that I had never wanted any of this at all.