Wednesday, December 25, 2013

X is for Xmas

It is 12:27 on Christmas morning. I don't actually like the abbreviation to Xmas, but I needed an X and Xmas is timely. I was going to write about Christmas 2013, but, in keeping with the theme of this blog, will write about a past Christmas instead. We had two as husband and wife. Which one was worse? Hard to say.

I keep rewriting this. I can't pick. I don't feel like telling you in detail what happened on either Christmas, so I think I will tell you bits and pieces.
First Christmas:

* Ex and I went to dinner with my sister and mom on Christmas Eve. He pulled his chair out and sat at the end of the table instead of beside me. I told him I wouldn't bite and he grumpily moved his chair back beside me. As we were leaving, Ex harshly grabbed my arm and started telling me how he did not appreciate my manipulation and what a bitch I was. He was saying this very loudly in a room full of people while gripping my arm. I finally got away and just left. I was so embarrassed. I just wanted to disappear. Ex followed me and nothing was ever said about his actions. I hope my mom and sister didn't know what was going on. They had walked out first and I think they were just waiting in the lobby for us, not knowing what was taking so long. I hope.
*Ex's mom called him on Christmas morning and Ex immediately stopped talking to me. He didn't sit beside me at dinner and if I tried to join in a conversation he was having, he would get up and leave. My brother-in-law invited Ex out for coffee and when they came back, Ex wanted to talk to me in private. He told me that his mom wasn't doing well and he was upset. I asked why that would make him not talk to me all day and he just shrugged and left the room. We hadn't been married long enough for me to know that this would be a continuing theme in the relationship: his mom would upset him and then he would take it out on me. Happened a LOT.

*We had a family picture with all of the relatives. Everyone hugged their significant others and sat with their kids. Everyone except me and Ex, anyway. The picture of that Christmas gathering shows a glaring Ex sitting cross-legged on the floor. He looks zoned out and angry. I'm standing beside my mom, who saw I was hurt and put her arm around me. I'm trying not to cry in our family picture. (This was, of course, the same day Ex had not been speaking to me. He was charming and nice to everyone else and ignored me completely.)
Second Christmas:

*I'll keep this short and sweet.
*And personal.
*And embarrassing.

*Ex had been working out of state for about six months. He came home one weekend and told me he had a wart on his penis. From then on, we used condoms. Why did I still sleep with him even though he was almost undoubtedly cheating on me? Who knows. Sex was rare, at least. I've come a long way since then. Bastard. What does this have to do with Christmas? Because a memory that is burned in my mind is the one of him throwing the used condom in a field after we had sex (for the first time in months) in the car on Christmas. He-Who-Does-Not-Litter, littering. With a used condom. Do you have no sense of shame? On our honeymoon, he told me he would divorce me if I ever littered. And he was serious. What a hypocrite.

Merry Christmas...ho ho oh well

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Don't make me talk to myself, yo.

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