Jon tried to get me to wake up to go up to bed, but being the stubborn ass I am when I'm tired, I refused to move. So, he left me wrapped in the blanket on the sofa and went to bed alone.
The next morning, I woke up, and it was still dark outside, even though it was like 7 a.m. Keeping the blanket wrapped around me because it was chilly this morning, I went to the room to see if Jon was awake. I crawled into bed beside him and snuggled into his back, wrapping my arm around his waist. I closed my eyes and embraced the silence that surrounded us, and I must have dosed back off because I was awoken by Jon shifting around to hug me. Even though Jon had just woken up, I could feel his energy wasn't right.
"What's wrong, Jon?" I whispered into the darkness.
"Shit! You scared me, and I thought you were sleeping." I felt him jump next to me.
"Sorry, what's with the big sigh?"
"I don't know. There's so much going around my head; it's chaotic and never stops." He stopped talking, and I was unsure if he would continue. As I was about to say something, he continued:
"You know when sometimes you want some peace, but when you get it, it feels nice but so out of the norm that you don't know what to do with yourself. Plus, having no children around and everything being so calm is so weird." Jon said, breaking the silence.
"Babe, we live very hectic, loud and pretty crazy lives that when we let ourselves stop, we don't know how to be. It would be best if you started trying meditation and maybe yoga; we could do it together while working from home. And, no, it is not hippy-dippy; it's really good for your body and mind. How do you feel about trying a retreat or rehab?"
"Shit, scared, to be honest with you. If I go rehab and the media find out, all the rumour mills will go into overdrive that I'm on drugs and blah blah. "
"Fuck what everyone else says or does, Jon. You are more fucking important. Who's going to be there when the music stops? It isn't going to be the media. Who's going to be there? Jon, it would be best if you sorted out your priorities; we keep having the same conversations. How many times are we going to go around on this carousel??"
"Fucking hell, don't hold back on what you want to say! So much for a nice time away to get us sorted, but no, you have to go straight in on the bullshit." Jon rips the covers off him, gets up and starts putting on his clothes.
"Woah, woah,woah. Jon, I wasn't attacking you; I was stating that you are the more important; without you, nothing else exists; that's what I meant."
"Does it fucking matter if you were or wasn't? It's always nag, nag fucking nag: you just can't fucking help yourself. You have got to put your two fucking cents in on everything. Right now, I don't want your opinions; I don't even want to fucking look at you." He turns and storms down the stairs, and the front door slams.
What the fuck just happened? How did that go from a nice moment to whatever the fuck that was?
I was sat on the bed in shock, staring at the wall, tears rolling down my face. I have no idea how long I sat there, just sobbing my eyes out. Eventually, I got up, took a quick shower, dressed, and decided I needed to go for a drive. I grabbed the keys off the side table and headed out; I found a quiet spot about 10 minutes down the road, hoping not to bump into Jon.
As I sat there watching the birds flying around and the squirrels running from tree to tree, I knew I had some really big and hard decisions to make.
I can't keep putting myself through this pain and mental anguish, and I can't keep letting the children experience this. I need to put myself and the children first. I know this decision isn't easy, but I promised never to endure it again. No words or apologies can sugarcoat it anymore.
