I guess it was an ironic twist that I had written on the 4th about how last year I pretty much abandoned my sick wife to go have fun on the boat, and then exactly a year later on the same day I was taking care of her when she was going through a trauma. Redemption? I would like to think so. That is just too much of a coincidence if you ask me. I was able to right a wrong, and to me that is a huge part of all of this. From the moment that I arrived at the scene of the crash, I was by her side until this afternoon, almost a full 2 days later. Yes I felt torn, because here I was taking care of her, but at the same time knowing damn well she wasn’t mine anymore. Someone else was reaping that affection while I did all the heavy lifting. I am the rock that weathers the storms, the true trauma will be when I am washed away. We have put all the puzzle pieces of this marriage back together over the last 2 months, except for the one showing us as lovers. I even spoke to her about this after we left the ER. Her response left me cautious and confused. I wasn’t expecting tears and promises that she wanted to fix things. Do I believe it?  After the talk, it was like my old wife was back. Affection, love, and attention. In the grand scheme of things, it was just a moment… You have to be wary of what these kinds of moments might do to you. Like the old mermaid tales, singing a sweet song to lure you close before you drown. Or, it could be one of those ones where it ends happily ever after.

It was my worst nightmare come true. I was at my friends house having some drinks since it was too rainy to watch the fireworks. I had just told him how I missed my wife when the phone rang. it was Sam and I could tell right away something was wrong. “I just got in a wreck!!!”. I asked one question: are you ok. I was already sprinting out the door with my heart beating a million miles an hour. I had always dreaded this since we have been separated, that since she’s not coming home every night that she would be somewhere hurt and far away from me. a husbands worst fears. I was drunk. I had to get to the middle of Destin in holiday tourist traffic. as I got closer and traffic started to slow down with congestion, I felt like I was going to have an anxiety attack. I seriously contemplated leaving my car in the median and running the rest of the way on foot. finally, i got to the crash and my heart sank. the car was demolished and I could see Samm sitting on the curb in tears. I flew into a parking spot and rushed to her side. all I cared about was if she was ok. my sweet wife, just had to be ok. I sorted out all of the accident reports with the police, and got her to the car. I was almost as shaken up as she was. “no more of this I can’t take this” I told her. we went over to her place and spent the night. she was already starting to get sore and knew it would be even worse tomorrow. as I lay next to her all I could think about was how scared I was to lose her. not just in a marriage sense, but as a person. I can’t imagine what I would do if something ever happened to her. this was her 3rd wreck in 3 months. what if next time something worse happens? or I can’t get to her? I just want her home.

Probably my favorite 4th of July memory was from 2 years ago. Everything you could want to surround yourself with was right there. My wife (she looked so gorgeous that day!) and I took our boat out and invited all of my friends from high school that were back in town and it was just kind of like our unofficial reunion. Being out on the water has always been a relaxing experience, and it was just a great moment in time. I will always remember it.

July 4th, 2004. London, England. The day and city I met my daughters mother. No matter what unpleasant experience I have to go through with her, I always remind myself my wonderful child was the product of our relationship. I was studying abroad through FSU’s graphic design program and just happened to run into her at the YMCA down the street from school. We hit it off immediately and went out to party that night at some club that was known as an American hang out. A month later we had run amok all over Europe and were headed back to Florida. The rest is history. Talk about a day in infamy. Its tattooed on my right thigh.

Last year. Pretty much yet another shameful event in my life that I am horrified by. My wife had a minor surgery to take care of something the day prior, so we had to scrap our boating plans with our friends. At least that is what I should have done. What did my selfish ass do? I still went. While my sick wife was recovering on the couch. What was I thinking? Yes she told me I could go but that is something I wish I could take back. I feel pathetic when I think about that day. I got in a fight at Crab Island trying to bail out my buddy who had stuck his nose in the wrong confrontation. What if I would have gotten hurt? Or arrested? My wife would have been unable to do anything and no one would have came home that night to make sure she was ok. I had hoped that I would have a shot at redemption this year to make it up to her. You cannot take back the past, and I hope one day she finds it in herself to forgive me for the things that I did.

Today was supposed to be a redo. We had plans to go out with some mutual friends, and I had encouraged her to invite some of her new friends that she had made recently. Even if things had remained on that path, it would not have happened. Its raining. Like Florida monsoon raining. I doubt there will be any fireworks tonight. So here I am, sitting in my lab at my office, without my family. Going back to holidays alone is going to be a tough pill to swallow. I wish at the very least I could have still gone out on the water with my friends but I guess when it rains, it fucking pours.

I think I will put my house up for rent. Its like my museum of death right now. Everything in it reminds me of her. Its a beautiful home, less than a mile from the gulf, and right on the bayou’s. We picked it out together, a great first house and far away from the life that was giving her so much trouble in Fort Walton Beach. Right when we walked inside of it, we knew it was “us”. We worked our asses off for it, I got 3 jobs just to get that debt off our backs. But now here it stands, a reminder that whatever it was she wants in life, a family in this home is not in the cards. I just cannot even be in it while sober. It hurts too much. It has become my tomb. The best idea that I can come up with right now is just to rent it out, make a few dollars on the side and pay off my credit card, and then get the fuck out of here. Move back to Seattle, my adopted city. Or finally live in Estonia. I will be back there in a month. She was supposed to come. Two of our best friends live there. I really am tempted to go to Europe and just stay for a while. We will see. I guess its about letting this play out and figure out what the hell it is that I want to do in life. My partner might be lost, and much of the last 3 years of saving, working, and building has involved her. What do I do now?

What is the better path to live? To be happy and totally ignorant while living a lie, or to be miserable and know the truth? I guess you can say I chose the latter. As awesome as things have been on most days, especially Monday, I just am not the kind of person that is going to sit idle while being deceived. I gave her chance after chance to come clean and start healing. I had thought we were doing that. Everything she said and did led me to believe that – but that was a double life. You cannot say “I love you” to two people at once. Don’t tell me how lucky you are to be married to me, while you are having something romantic with someone else. If you are having to hide something from your spouse, there is a reason for it. Can’t feel good to be constantly lying and telling people a completely different story than the one you are living every single day. I just don’t understand that, and that is not something I myself could ever do. SO on Monday evening, we headed to Pensacola to do an interview with a band that was playing. I have always thought Samm would do great in the interview role, she is really charismatic and well spoken. So we set it up so that she would do the interview instead of me. The show was a lot of fun, Valient Thorr is always a good time to take in. We had a lot of fun, and after the show it was time for her to shine. She did great. I knew she would. But for her first time doing this, I was really impressed. I could tell she was proud of herself, as she should have been. Driving home, she passed out pretty quick, and I noticed her phone laying in the seat next to me. I just had to know. Was this night real? Was all the affection and sweet sayings actually real and did she mean them? And I understand words are words, but for me its not anything I can take to the bank unless I know for a fact you are living and breathing what you are preaching. So I had a look at the phone, and sure as shit, I was horrified. I wont go into the details, but between this affair and what she was telling other people about our situation, it was just like a complete bullshit lie given the time we had been spending together. Like what was the point. Why even do it if you don’t mean it. I just don’t get it. That night after being built up onto a 20 story building of positive emotions and love, it was like it all came crashing down to the concrete below. Rock bottom I guess. I had some really dark thoughts that I have never felt before, and I am ashamed and embarrassed to admit that. I will have to come to grips and face that at some point. The next morning I told her – its now or I am ready to walk away. I met her later at the dog park and just said I was glad I had some beautiful days as a family and as a couple lately, if it has to end its on such a high note. But I explained that I was glad I found out everything because I don’t want to live a lie. My last words on the matter were “Call me when its over”. Who knows where I’ll be though.

People cope with shit differently. Some are well documented as being self destructive. Others, we like to be able to say there are plenty of health benefits from them as they help us through our tough times. After going through all of this, both before and post-separation, I guess my advice is this – even the “positive” coping methods can lead to destruction if done in excess, or in the wrong setting. Allow me to explain. When I was working 3 jobs trying to make our bills from buying the new house go away, obviously things got kind of stressful. Looking back, I guess I thought I was doing ok because I never held it over anyone’s head or said anything to the effect of “hey I’m working like a dog so we are doing things my way”. There was already a lot of tension and difficult moments sprouting up in my marriage so unfortunately I didn’t turn to my family for help and stress relief like I should have. My coping mechanism was one thing, and in my mind at the time, one thing only: running. And I mean it got to the point where all I was thinking about was my next race. My next run. Shaving time off my splits. Breaking my personal records. It consumed me and took over what little free time I had. I neglected my wife. I neglected my child. I neglected me. People have told me recently that there is no such thing as too much of something that you call your stress relief. Hindsight tells me that maybe I should have had a few more days of waking up with my family and going for a walk, instead of dragging everyone out of bed at the crack of dawn every Saturday morning. It was a guilt that kept me off my feet for over a month. I ran twice in the last 2 weeks, and both times were pretty brutal due to time off and the fact that I have been smoking. My point is, yeah I am glad I didn’t run off to the bars to drink alone like I sometimes did in Seattle when I was going through a lot, but my way of handling stress over the past 2 years was in the end, a bit selfish and definitely overboard. Am I proud of what I accomplishment going back to running? Yes of course. A very small percent of the population has ran an ultra marathon. That was a tremendous amount of time and effort and training to get up to that point, and to continue to run fast times at the shorter distances. But I would trade all of it back in for a redo of the time I should have been spending with my family. I plan on working my way back into shape, but just for the health benefits. My racing career is probably over. The thing that kills me is that my last race ever was probably my best race ever. Azalea Trail 10K in Mobile. I got absolutely wasted after the race and came home and had a nasty confrontation with my wife, in front of my daughter. That, hands down, is the low light of my 30 years of being alive. I have never been more ashamed of anything else. 3 days later I was in a councilors office, trying to look myself in the mirror and accept that I had a big problem with how I was handling things. That was back in March, and even then my number one thing I told the councilor back then was this – I do not want to lose my family, and I am willing to admit I need to change to make that happen.