My husband left me last night.
I don’t know what happened. We haven’t been fighting. None of the signs were there. No strange phone calls or texts, no hot babes at work that might have turned his eye. Sure, he’s been stressed out about work, but that doesn’t make a person just up and leave, does it?
There was no warning. No indication he was anything less than happy.
Until he walked out and crushed my entire world. He came home from work, still in his suit, and when the twins ran to him as usual, screaming, “Daddy!” he took their hands and led them out to the car. He loaded them in their car seats as I watched, asking repeatedly what he was doing and where they were going. For a minute I thought we were going out for pizza, but that’s usually a Friday night thing, and so that couldn’t possibly be it, and then he turned around and his face was stone overwritten with thunderclouds. He marched back into the house, his eyes passing over me like I was nothing more than a kitchen chair.
I watched in disbelief as he picked up the dog. He yelled something over his shoulder about the pineapple on the kitchen counter and then he left. Just like that. He left. My legs rooted to the floor and I wanted to wail, but I couldn’t move. I screamed inside, so loudly that I clamped my hands over my ears.
The screams tore through my whole body, and there was much gnashing of teeth. I clamped the pillow to my head to make it stop, please just make it stop…and then I realized it was all a dream.
“Honey?” The hubster peered down at me, trying to see around the pillow still clutched around my head. “What’s wrong? Do you have a migraine? Do you want me to get your Imitrex?”
I sat up. My clothes were drenched and my body had pummeled itself into one big heap of aching muscles.
“You left me!”
“What? I’m right here.”
“You…you fucking left me!”
By this point he was back in the bathroom, razor in hand. I swept my legs from the tangled sheets and followed.
“How could you do that to me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you leaving me. Walking out of the house and not coming back.”
The hubster had the nerve to laugh. “Honey, it was a bad dream. I would never leave you. You know that.”
“Well, you did! You left me! You took the kids! You took my dog.” I looked in the mirror. Hello, hell. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and as I spat my nightguard out, I noticed my cheeks were actually swollen from the aforementioned gnashing of teeth. My head was shot through with the icepicks that herald a migraine. The bastard.
“You’re being ridiculous. I didn’t leave you. You had a bad dream.”
“Oh, you most certainly did leave me. And when I begged, no, pleaded to know why, all you would tell me was some stupid nonsense about how I hadn’t bothered to cut up the pineapple yet.”
“Ok, that sounds awful, but honey, I didn’t do that. My dream self did that. I would never do that.”
“Oh, that’s right you wouldn’t. Because you know what I would do? I would call your mother.”
That stopped him in his tracks.
“My mother?”
“Yes. I would call your mother, and then you’d hear about what a rat bastard you are for leaving your wife. And taking the kids. You even took the dog!”
“Ok, calm down.”
“I can’t calm down, I’m in hell! You left me and you won’t even say you’re sorry!”
The hubster put down his razor and gathered me up. He said, firmly, “I. Would never. Leave you. And I’m sorry my dream self did. He can be an ass.” Then he hugged me to his slightly damp from the shower chest, and even though I could feel him shaking with suppressed laughter, I felt better.
“Yeah,” I said, wiping tears from my swollen cheeks. “Ok, I forgive you. But don’t even think about doing that again. Hey–stop smirking! I saw that! Hell, my whole day is shot. I have a migraine.”
“Why don’t you take an Imitrex and then we’ll go down and have some coffee?”
And so we did.
And I couldn’t help but notice when I came downstairs, that the kids were chowing down on pineapple. Pineapple that my dear hubster cut up, just so I wouldn’t look at it and get mad at his dream self again.
I love this man.
*Get Fuzzy by Darby Conley
This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop. Prompt: “And then I realized it was all a dream…”
My husband's dream self can also be a bastard. He's cheated on me several times, called me names, and I think he's left a time or two also. He's kind of a jerk really. I'm glad that his real-life counterpart is not such a douchebag. Also? He hates it when I get mad at him for dreams. LoL
All dream husbands are like that, right? I knew it wasn't just mine!
Yeah, the hubster isn't crazy about it when I do this, either. But he's such a doll IRL that he puts up with it. This comic came out a couple days after this incident and he was at least laughing.
It takes a special man to be married to a crazy dream lady.
My husband's dream self is CONSTANTLY cheating on me and one time he told me that he was either leaving or his girlfriend was moving in.
THAT was a long day for Husband.
That fucking pineapple can be a doozie!
@LawMomma, once again, so glad it's not just my dream husband. Also glad I'm not the only one giving my actual husband hell for it.
@Sandi, not sure I'll ever buy a pineapple again!
I've been having similar dreams about my hubby lately. He just comes home one day and leaves with our daughter. He doesn't have any reason except to say “You know why”. It's so scary.
@Elle, doesn't it make you want to wake up and pound him? Ugh. The “You know why,” part is so creepy!
Hahaha.. Once I started reading, I really hoped it was a dream.. I've had some dreams like that.. But my husband is the worst. He'll actually wake up and be upset with me.. Once he had a dream that I left him for a police officer, and he still hasn't let it go, and it was months ago – it's a good laugh.
@workinghosewife Your husband and I have a lot in common, it would seem…..
I was totally buying this – and considering finding your husband and punching him in the cock. Thank God you said it was just a dream. He's a lucky, lucky man.
Oh, Tiffany. I puffy heart you.
Wow. His dream self is a total hoser. I don't know that I've ever called anyone that, though it, or even written it, but for some reason, that's what popped into my head.
Perhaps I have unresolved issues…
As i started reading this I thought, “Surely this is a joke! A fiction piece! A dream!”
I was SO relieved once you “woke up.”
@Cheryl, I don't think I've ever even seen that word before! Hoser? Love it.
@Liz, I was relieved when I woke up, too!
My dream hubby can be quite a jerk. But then again, I”m ususally lost AND back in high school – as my 40 year old self – so you'd think I'd realize it was only a dream.
Popping in from Mama Kat's!
OMG, I've had dreams like that too…or I'll watch an episode of Oprah and then have a nightmare that he cheated on me with some 23-year old hottie with huge boobs and no kids.
He loves to laugh about it but those dreams feel so darn real. I love that your husband referred to himself as “my dream self”! That's classic!!!! He already knows how to explain his way out of it! My husband hasn't perfected that part yet…he's always like, “Well, so describe to me exactly what the hottie looked like…” Real nice.
This is my 1st visit to your blog, so I took the title of this post seriously for a moment before I realized it was for Mama Kat's. Haha.
OK, was ready go to go all “jersey style” on the hubs there for ya becuase I'm thinking- the kids? andthe dog? good god man what is wrong with you?!?! WHEW
My hubs (in a dream) cheated on me and when i woke up I was devastated. Ruined my whole weekend. His wasn't much better either come to think of it!
I often get mad over crap that never really happened. Sometimes it stems from a dream and sometimes just from me spending too much time in my head. Love that he cut up the pineapple for you!
You had me there for a minute and I was all, “What the hell???”
Glad it was just a dream!! I have had so many dreams like that…I think they are real and then I feel weird around who ever was involved the next day.
Holy crap that gave me chills
“No way!!!” was my first thought. Impressive writing! AND.I.HATE.DREAMS.LIKE.THAT. Been there and, thankfully, it's been a long time (21 years – yes I remember!). Gosh, they just leave you SO angry and sick to your stomach. Time for a glass of wine…
I totally have those dreams. And I get just as mad. I have actually given my hub the silent treatment because of a dream.
Angie, I thought of your post this morning as I woke up, enraged, and turned to my husband with this early morning greeting: “your dream self cheated on me last night!” I then instructed him that under no circumstances is he allowed to hire a woman named Kate. Thankfully, my Mark is as patient and amused by my irrational behavior as your Mark is with yours, so he just laughed and pulled me in for a “you're crazy but I still love you” hug.