Brave Enough To Be Bliss

We had already asked the landlord to do something about the mice issue, but nothing had been done and every morning my husband would have to empty the mousetraps. I left for work early, so I just tried not to turn on the lights so I didn’t have to see them. But o nce I knew they had been in Kylee’s room , I was completely unsettled and decided we had to move out. I had also started hearing them inside the walls and ceiling. I had recently earned a pay increase, so I asked my husband to explain the situation to his boss and ask for a raise, as he’d been working there a couple years and hadn’t gotten one yet. I was desperate to get Kylee into a place where I didn’t have to worry mice would get to her, even if that wasn’t really a possibility . The mere thought of mice or rats getting to the baby made me willing to do whatever we had to do to get her into a safe place. We had made a lot of improvements to the home with the landlord’s approval but at our expense, so he didn’t give us any trouble when we said we needed to break the lease without penalty due to the pest control issue that hadn’t been resolved. My husband did get a rai se and we were able to move to a new townhome in another area, so once we got moved things settled down, but I never wanted to see a mouse again. That is the background to set the stage for the incident with John, so you’ ll understand my intense emotion around it. The spring after I bought the new row home, they began digging in the open lot right next to me. Knowing what happened when Kylee was a baby, I bought every type of mouse trap available to set out in the garage in case any mice tried to come in there . I thought if I could catch them in the garage they wouldn’t get into the house, and I tried to close the garage door as quickly as possible when I pulled in. One afternoon I had run home midday to get something since I only lived a few miles from the office, and decided to pull the trash can back inside before I closed the garage door. And then I saw it. Not in the mouse trap, but there was a smashed mouse laying right where the garage door closes. Somehow, I had been “lucky” enough to catch one by closing the garage door at just the right time. That may sound OK to most people, but not to me. I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing it again, so I wanted it gone and gone fast. I guess because John was the closest male to me at the time, I sent him a text saying, “How do you feel about mouse removal?” I think he said something like, “I hate mice.” I thought he was really saying, “Hell no I’m not going to come move that thing for you and why did you even bother me by asking?” I felt stupid and hurt, and proceeded to tell myself that it was dumb of me to have asked for help. No one ever helps me, and clearly, he doesn’t care about me at all, or he would have come and moved it for me. I’m so dumb to ever think he actually cared about me. I would have done it for him if he had asked me. I would have done anything for him. I wouldn’t do it for myself, but I would have done it for him or anyone else. Why can’t anyone ever do anything for me? Oh yeah, I’m not worth it because I’m unlovable. How did I forget that for a moment? So, after that self- hate speech, I saw he had followed up with something like, “I’d just take a broom and sweep it into the yard.” So, I interpreted that to mean, “Leave me the hell alone with your petty problems and do it your own damn s elf. And don’t ever ask me to do anything for you again, you selfish b****.” Now please understand, it’s not like I really believed John would have ever said anything like that to me or anyone else, but that’s how what he said felt to me at the time. With that, I got what I needed from the house and went back to work. And yes, let it smash the dead mouse even more when the garage door came down again. My mind was still on the fact that John wouldn’t do anything for me. I realize that’s not what he said, but I wrote it like that because that is how it felt to me , and damn straight, I’m not asking that man to do anything for me ever again because it hurt too much when he told me no like that. I returned to the office and told my friend the story, except in this version of the story I wasn’t hurt, I was pissed. How dare he? What kind of man is he that he wouldn’t move a silly little mouse for me? While I was making him into some kind of villain verbally, my friend said, “L et me see the text. ” I showed it to her, and she started laughing out loud. She said, “You didn’t ask him to move it for you . ” I said, “What do you mean? I said, how do you feel about mouse removal? That’s the same thing.” She said, “You don’t really know much about “One of the biggest mistakes we make is assuming that other people think the way we think.” Unknown

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