January 21, 2004
She's gotten so big- it's like she sprouted up from the ground into the beautiful ever blooming flower that she is now. I love her more than anything I've ever loved, my sweet girl- a vibrant ray of sunshine against the cool winter air.
I watch her now as she plays in the snow, throwing snowballs at her mother who pretends to be fatally wounded with each hit. It's a warming sight, my little girl jumping around in her big winter coat- and my wife...indulging in our family.
I leave to let them play because I know the moment I step in the mood will shift. Our little girl looks at me as if I'm an angel. My wife looks upon as if she lived in constant regret. Being around her is painful- that look in her eyes unbearable.
I wish I knew what I did to make her distance me so. But I suppose the truth is waiting to reveal itself to me.
February 1, 2004
My little angel has learned to read chapter books. It's quite remarkable that she reads so well- but I like to think it's because been I've reading to since her conception. It's a part of who she is and I think she will be a well spoken young lady.
The two of us celebrated her victory by making hot chocolate and banana bread- her favorites. It took us a little while to finish baking, but once we did I let her indulge in the bread without restriction. She stuffed herself tired and has fallen asleep on my lap. For memories sake I'll have to take a picture for the photo book.
My wife is running late today. She texted saying she had a few more things to do in the office and to tell our girl that she loves her- just in case she was asleep when she arrived. I try not to let it bother me that I'm always sleeping when arrives- and she never leaves such messages for me, not anymore.
Regardless I tell myself to be happy that she cares for our daughter. Her duties as a wife may go ignored but she has never let our child feel neglected. I should feel thankful for that, and while
I am- it hurts that I've become so unimportant to her. Nothing more than the bearer of her child. The one who pushed because she couldn't.
She was once so romantic and loving- constantly making me fall in love all over again. She had a way with words- a way in which she was undoubtedly poetic and moving. I could listen to her talk for hours, gazing at her as if she were the light to my world. It was easy to love her then- and love her I did.
She needed a house wife who could accommodate to her hectic work schedule. And there I was. I was fine cooking and waking up early to prepare her breakfast- then staying up late to eat with her for dinner. I was happy to pack her lunches and leave little notes in them for her to read throughout the day. When she wanted to be relieved from her stress and worries I happily made sure her every need was met behind closed doors. She never complained and always appeared to enjoy herself. My cooking was always exceptional and my notes pleasant.
So what was it that made her cut me out of her life? That made me more of a maid than a wife? I couldn't say, and that is very bothersome.
February 5, 2004
My sister wanted to watch the baby for the week and I agreed. She lives right around the corner and could take her to and from school- and my baby girl loves her to death. They're best friends, always asking about the other and never wanting to separate. I love that they have each other, that they're so close.
