lastlaugh's Journal

Well.

C is home now. 

He stayed elsewhere most of last week (after I asked him to leave), then called on Friday to "talk".

I let him come to the house Friday evening and hang with Braiden, and I went out - I had made plans, assuming I wasn't even going to hear from him all weekend.

He has been here ever since.

We've had dinner and gone on a "date" - i.e. the re-building process needs to begin with some basics, right?

We've talked about alot of things, and haven't discussed alot of things.  

I've been adament about the things he needs to do and the role he needs to WANT, in order for us to work on repairing our relationship.  He is sullen and almost indignant about alot of it, but he is aware that I CANNOT and WILL NOT be hurt like this again.

He says he's still jumbled inside, but is here to stay (as opposed to going back to Boone), and has been pretty attentive to us, for the most part.  Is he faking it, though?

He's still drinking like a louse and slacking on household endeavors, but I am picking my battles at this point.

I told him that I needed him to go, at least once, and talk to the Christian Councellor that I have been talking to.  She is very calm and unassuming.. and he has ISSUES that need to be addressed.  

He said he'd think about it.  

Okay.

We are in a strange place right now - 

My husband is home after seemingly deciding to run off and start a new life elsewhere, without us.

What brought him back?  Is he really even back?  

I am filled with anguish and resentment towards him and what pain he has caused.  I am ANGRY for his preference to concentrate on past tragedies rather than his present miracles. 

Where do we begin picking up the pieces that he still carelessly walks around on?  Can I ever get my trust back?  Does he even deserve it?

And what about the drinking?  

There is such a fine line to be tread. 

I guess I can only address one issue at a time and let God sort out the rest.  Most of it is out of my hands - it is up to C to really embrace what is right or wrong, who he is vs. who he wants to be, and what life he actually wants to live.

I am but an innocent bystander, holding our son protectively against my breast and praying in earnest; trying desperately to stand strong even while my knees are buckling. 

I want him here, but hate the sight of him half the time.  

I am sad inside - in a place he is oblivious to. 

I have no expectations. 

And really no hope either... there is too much still hanging by a thread for me to allow myself the luxury to hope.

Just trying to breathe in and out.