Devin

I married Devin knowing he was dying. I still struggle with why I did it. Did I love him? Feel sorry for him? Feel obligated because I had a child with him? I knew, if I didn't marry him, my eldest would never meet him. His family would have scooped Devin up and isolated him from me in a New York second. They were already trying when we started dating and after he found out he had a brain tumor. So, I don't know. I have never really dealt with it. I figured I did it and that is what counts. No reason to analyze the past. I do know, though, after all this chaos that I have never dealt with it and neither has my in-laws.

I have very few memories of the night I tried to kill myself. They say I walked to the ambulance. No memories. They say I yelled at the ER doctor and told him I would do it again. I do remember, though, yelling at my Father-in-Law. I remember screaming and begging not to take my children. I knew, if I survived, that there might be a move to take the kids from me. So far, no one has. I keep expecting it. He was shocked and he was frightened. My aunt said later that he was raising a child (his fourth wife is twenty-two years younger than him) so why would he want two more? One of the many reasons I love my aunt. She is so sarcastic but truthful. Anyway, relations are bad right now between my FIL and I. Looking back, I think they always have been. He always felt I was not good for his son. I think he got over as Devin died and he was proud I went back to school etc. But now, I am scared him and he realizes I am not dependable and I have issues. And he even told someone Devin and I didn't have a good relationship. That hurt.

But it's true. In our early marriage, we didn't. We had so many stressors and we tore and bit at each other. I know, without the cancer and without Zak, I never would have married him. I also know I never would have stayed married without those factors. I filed for divorce once and it was the same day that he found out that his tumor returned. I stayed with him for many reasons. I did love him but I am not sure it is the deep abiding love people think we had. It was not the great romantic story of the ages. There was violence. There was tears. There was vindicativeness and there was yelling and screaming. It was not the best atmospere for anyone. Thank goodness, after the removal of his temporal lobe, things got better. And we learned to support each other. But, honestly, those first years were a train wreck.

Lately, I think about my past-usually at 3 AM-when I can't sleep. I think about what I would have told myself at twenty. I know what it would have been. Go back to school. Don't marry Devin. And it makes me feel guilty. I never would have had Alex. I never would have had many things but I also would not have this pain that has become a part of me. Of course, if I had gone back to school, maybe he would have followed me and we would have gotten married anyway. I think, though, the perception was that I forced him into it. I just wish I had more independent. More willing to try to explore me. Instead, I hid in him just like I would love to hide in my boyfriend. And he enabled me to stop thinking and just put one foot in front of another until now. I hid in his cancer. I hid in his pain and I matryed myself into his dying. I didn't like myself. I didn't love myself but I could love him. I could like him. Who needed to be me? I would just be the servant to his cancer. The dutiful wife. The loving wife. The woman with the weight on her shoulders. And it worked for years. Until now.

I was driving last night to the boyfriend's house. He was sick and I was bringing him some stuff for his throat and I just started bawling. I was so angry-angry that I hadn't died. Angry that Devin left me with this fucking mess. Angry because, if I had died, Devin would have remarried. Angry because I always think he would have done better with the kids, with my parents, with his parents then I do. Angry because I was left behind. Angry that I married him. Angry that I had my children young. Angry that I am at cross-roads again at the age of 35. Angry at the world and furious at myself.

 I looked up and saw a sign through my tears. It was in rememberance of a man that died from cancer. Like Devin. Did his wife feel guilt? Feel anger? Feel the desperation that I did after he died? Where will she be seven years from now? I doubt she will a complete mess like I am right now. I also felt guilty because he tried to live while I tried to destroy myself. A man told me in the ward that he often wishes he could take someone else's cancer on because he wants to die and they don't. I shivered at the thought. That is a dark, desperate, pitiful, terrible thought. One that shouldn't be vocalized. And I looked at that sign and thought why did I live? Why did he die? Why did Devin die? Why is life so fucking random and painful?

I wish I knew. I know I have talked about it before but I don't believe anymore. And it is things like this that make me not believe. I am in so much pain that my brain causes. Every day is some sort of different torture but it is internal. It is brought on by my actions and my choices and it is hard to describe. Praying more, going to church more, believing more doesn't stop it. And, to be honest, I'll struggle with it for the rest of my life. Why would God do that to me? Why would God take people that want to live away so painfully? Babies, teenagers, fathers, mothers? Maybe because God doesn't. I haven't felt God or God's love in so long that I find his existence impropable at this point. And honestly, the day Devin held Alex for the first time and I knew Alex would only have him a short time, I realized I had no belief in God. My God doesn't take away loved ones. Therefore, my God doesn't exist.

Anyway, I have such complicated feelings about Devin that it will take forever to sort through them. I torture myself with the feeling that he could have done better than me. Maybe by forcing him to marry me, I stopped him from finding true love..from living to his true potential. Maybe his parents were right. Maybe I did a diservice to myself by marrying him. And the truth is, I know I did. God, that hurt. I just told the kids my eyes were watering. They know that is bullshit but giving me space. I took away so much from myself when I chose to marry him. And I do regret it. I wish I could have stood up for myself more and made better choices. I could have gone back to school, could have taken some time to find me before submerging myself into him. And I didn't. And now I am floundering. It hurts and it, like the cancer thought, is such an evil, despicable thought that I feel awful admitting it. We were the Great Love Story to those on the outside. Truth was...we never were. Not really.

And I don't know if I will ever be capable of loving someone truly. Can you love someone else when you loath yourself? Can you love someone else when you wake up every day with a undefined feeling of anxiety and resentment? I don't know.

For me, love always feels like a sacrifice. I sacrificed for Devin. I sacrifice for the boyfriend now. I sacrifice for the kids. I sacrifice for my in-laws and my parents and I sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice. I don't even trust what I want anymore. Do I really want to go to grad school? Do I really want a puppy? Do I really to never have anymore children? Do I really want to write a book? Do I really want to teach? I have no idea. Maybe I just want a puppy, grad school, book writing and teaching to occupy my time. To give myself something to do-something to take care of-something that will make people happy with me. Why do I sacrifice so much for everyone else? Mom would say that what love is...Is it? Mom would say that it was being  a wife, being a daughter, being a mother is. I just know sacrifice has gotten me to where I am today and it is not a pretty sight.

One of the things I admire most about my boyfriend is that he is so clear about his boundaries. So clear about his limits and his expectations. I wish I could be that way but I am not. I have very nebulous boundaries-one of the reasons I will never be a great teacher-and I have very few limits. I believe love is about sacrifice and he believes love is about making himself happy. I wish I was more that way. I wish I could be more willing to draw a line in the sand and stick to it. Maybe I will learn from him. Love should be about making yourself happy and making sure your boundaries are respected. Even when writing this, I am cringing. Isn't that selfish? But, how different my life would have been if I had set boundaries and expectations with Devin instead of sacrificing my whole existence for him.