We Don't Have A Table... YET

We have not had a table or even a couch or chair in over a year. When we left the house that my ex husband and I used to share, we left behind all of the furniture. Happily. I hated it all. Furniture was something we fought over - to me, the ratty old furniture was a symbol of the fact that what he wanted was always more important than what I did. Every day I would walk into the house and see these items that were in no way a reflection of me, or of us. It was just crap, and it wasn't even comfortable. The couch was scratchy and the chair smelled of sleep - because he always slept in it. But if I were to lift the garage door, on the other hand.... inside would be found thousands of dollars worth of tools that were rarely touched. They were HIS, not ours. I always wanted for us, he always wanted for him. Those times when I did want for me, I felt exceptionally guilty. I'm angry even now as I write this, and we have been apart for two years.

I think that I'm angry more at myself than at him. I shouldn't have tolerated that. I should have fought harder for what was important to me - and it really wasn't about "furniture," it was about priorities. Being afraid to rock the boat, afraid of his volcanic anger.... really that's not a proper excuse. The farther I am from the situation, the better I can see it. And I'm so confident that I made the right decision(s). Love does NOT conquer all. You must also use your mind. Always.

Here's the funny thing: I have thoroughly enjoyed the lack of furniture. Picnic dinners and brunches, lounging about on the 'flouch' (floor-couch), all of the space to breath and fill with US instead of STUFF. It's been fun. About time to add a few places to sit though. Company kind of doesn't get it.