Pretty Little Lies

Chapter Two

“Fashion tip – When spending several hours in a car, it makes sense to dress as comfortably as possible, but just like my mom always said, in case of an accident, make sure you at least have on some nice undies just in case someone may have to rip off your clothes to save your life!”

I take a sip of my hot mocha from Coffee Now and roll my eyes in ecstasy. I can feel my taste buds doing the tango of happiness. I grab a quick bite of a blueberry muffin and I’m in seventh heaven. What a perfect combination – and an ideal way to begin the two-day drive to Chicago.

I have everything set. My cell phone is plugged into the charger and the playlist created just for the drive is already streaming loudly through the speakers. My radar detector with laser jammer and GPS are mounted on the dash, and my beloved Dodge Avenger is packed to the brim with all of my worldly possessions. It is a really strange and somewhat unsettling feeling to know that the representation of one’s entire life can be packed up and placed in the back of a car. There isn’t much. I’m moving into Pyper’s condo with her. Good thing her parents still spoil her rotten and she doesn’t want for a thing. Her furniture and décor is impeccable – my stuff wouldn’t have really fit in, not that she would have cared, but I didn’t really want any of the apartment furnishings anyway. Too many painful memories. Deacon reclaimed the tattered belongings he had when we married, and everything else were pieces I purchased with him. Dishes we picked out together – the ones that we were finally able to agree on after looking at God knows how many patterns; the bed we selected after lying on mattress after mattress trying out, testing out and never really being able to feel the difference that the salesman insisted differentiated the various types – pillow top, plush, foam, firm, latex, innerspring. Who knew there were so many? The beat-up brown leather couch we had made love on several times. Um, no thanks. I don’t want any of it. Instead, I put an ad in the newspaper and on an online selling site, sold most of it, and donated the rest. I made decent money off of everything and happily deposited it into the bank, comfortable with this decision and anxiously looking forward to starting the next chapter of my life with unblemished and unspoiled possessions.

This move still seems surreal in so many ways. Although this has been in the works for a few months, it’s like I’m having an out of body experience and all of this is really happening to someone else. I still can’t believe that all of this craziness is now my life. While I love my home town and can’t wait to see Pyper, since it has been a while, I have so many apprehensions about going back.

I didn’t ask to be cheated on, but I can’t help but feel like a failure. Thinking about returning home with my tail between my legs makes my stomach churn. I’ve been told my recurring feelings of inadequacy and defectiveness are all normal, and are not surprising, given the fact that my husband turned to another woman – likely several women. Excellent therapy has helped me to know the truth deep down, but sometimes that truth feels far removed.

Ok…repeat…what happened was not about my insufficiency, but about Deacon and his issues. He is accountable for his behavior. That is not something I should place on my shoulders. I may have ownership, but not for his actions. I didn’t do anything to warrant such behavior.

People say, of course, that a relationship takes two. And it does, but the fact is, I feel like the rug was pulled out from under me. Yes, the way Deacon behaved wasn’t always healthy, but it wasn’t like we fought a lot or argued about money or sex or careers or anything that should have mattered. But, what the hell was there to argue about? The man typically got his way. I avoided creating conflict, told myself that perhaps if he had what he wanted that he might change his behavior. And when that didn’t happen, I made up excuses and enabled him even more. Hoping, praying that it would change him, that he would inevitably behave differently. And why did I think I could change him? Why would I marry someone I wanted to change? How does one explain this to others?