Nov. 15, 2001, the day we vowed to each other for better or for worse till death do us part.
Nov. 15, 2015, our 14th year wedding anniversary supposedly, became our 12th year separation anniversary.
I know it’s past 12 years already, but to be honest when this date comes, I couldn’t help myself but to remember everything I have gone through.
I got pregnant out of wedlock, and since I belong to a traditionalist family, my Father pushed me to get married or else I can’t come back to our home. Of course, I never hesitated, I was in love with the father of my son and he was happy & willing to fulfill his responsibility.
Though I was certain of my feeling to him, I had doubts of what he can do for our new family. Why? At that time, he had no job; he was lazily receiving monthly allowance from his mother abroad, he was a brat from a broken family, full of hatred. I was clouded of my hopes & imagining that he will be good. I defended him, hiding his true situation, just to please my family & friends, just to prove that I got a good man. But hiding never lasts long, it reveled just the way it has to be.
Living together after we got married, nothing changed. He was still the same; a home father & a husband. He took care of everything in the house all day long & going out with friends at night. I know for myself that I don’t like him that way. I wanted him to be a good provider, a successful man that I can proud of, not just someone who stayed at home, patiently waiting for his mother & wife’s money. Gradually, I became another person, I was so frustrated. I resigned from my work in exchange for taking care of our son by myself & by hoping that he would soon go out & look for a job.
And then it never happened. We were both jobless, both a parasite. He’s drinking routine became worse, he’s laziness never ended. My credit card was exhausted. My pocket was empty. My hope had ended. Every day was a hell. I always looked at my son’s face, pitying him, wishing that he wasn’t born, that I could return to my old life; carefree & simple.
It was all like that for 2 years and I was used to it, shamelessly. Then one day, he strained his whereabouts, he cheated on me.
That was another story, the most painful history in my life.
Happy 12th year separation day! I am so happy that I have ever let you go.