Category Archives: marriage

July 27, 2014 · 1:00 pm

In My Head- V

In My Head – V
By: Mia L. Hazlett
7/27/14

I sat in my Science class and wondered if I was ever going to see my Daddy again. I put my sparkly dress right in the trash.  I never wanted to wear it again.  He never came and Mommy tried to call him, but he didn’t answer.  Saturday would be here tomorrow and I really wanted to see him.  But if I asked him to come and then he didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to go to Sasha’s birthday party.  I had to go to her party, everyone from our class was going to be there.

I went to get into the bus line, but I saw Mommy waving to me from the parent pick-up line.  Mommy never picks me up.  This was the best day ever.  She always made it the best day ever.  I ran over to her and fell into the biggest hug.  She kissed my forehead and I grabbed her hand.  I sat in the back and told her all about my day.  She said after we got my sister we could go and get me a dress for the birthday party, maybe even new shoes too. I was so excited.

We got my sister and went shopping for my dress.  I got to get my new shoes too.  It was like it was my birthday and not Sasha’s, because after shopping we went to the pizza place up the street and we got to eat it there.  We were playing the license plate game on our way home and before we got to the driveway, I saw Daddy’s car.  “Daddy!”, my sister and I screamed.  This was the best day ever.

My mother walked straight into the house, when we climbed all over Daddy.  He kissed us and said he was sorry he couldn’t get here last week to pick us up.  Even though his phone looked exactly the same, he said he lost his phone and he had to buy a new one.  He must have taken my little heart sticker off his old phone and put it on the case for this one.

He came into the house, but I didn’t see Mommy.  Her door was closed, so she must be in her bedroom.  We sat in the living room and Daddy ate the last of the pizza we brought home.  I wish Mommy would come downstairs, but she stayed in her room.  Maybe she was mad at us for talking to Daddy.  I started to get scared because if Daddy left, Mommy would be mad at us.  I know she didn’t like Daddy anymore, but I didn’t know if we were supposed to not like him too.

Daddy left and I knocked on Mommy’s door.  I told her through the door that he left.  I waited for her to answer, and then I opened the door.  She was asleep on her bed and me and my sister crawled in the bed with her.  I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be here, but I didn’t want Mommy mad at us.  I was just really happy to see Daddy.  Before I fell asleep, I promised I would never act happy to see Daddy in front of Mommy again.

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April 14, 2013 · 10:10 pm

Conundrum XII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/14/13

There was nothing like spending time with my girlfriends.  Last night wasn’t enough.  I needed them right now, but I knew we all had our own lives to live.  I always thought my husband was my soul mate.  Really, he was almost my best friend.  We’d been together for 22 years and married for 18.  In our world, we were soul mates, but in my heart and mind, those four women I sat with last night truly knew my soul.

On a scale of 1-10 of being myself, with my husband I am at about 9 and my friends a 10.  I know I sound like a bitch, but I cannot completely be myself with my husband in only one relationship in my life.  He knows everything about work, my friends, my family.  But to keep the peace in my house, I have to watch what I say about his mother.  I couldn’t tell him that I wrestle with being Godly and saying fuck that bitch.  What? He would lose his damn mind.  It felt so nice saying it last night.  I was able to be myself and vent my frustrations to my soul mates.

Now I sat in my room on my lazy Sunday.  Once a month I got a vacation in my house from the other creatures that inhabited it.  I woke up at six, made myself a nice breakfast, and got my coffee.  I returned to breakfast in my bedroom and lounged out on my couch.  My six year-old attempted to interrupt, but my husband intervened.

I honestly think this is what has saved our marriage.  He chose to have one Saturday a month and I chose a Sunday.  We can use it to go out or stay in, either way we get time to ourselves.  Our bedroom became sacred territory.  No one was allowed to come in under any circumstances.  Unfortunately, our new guest felt the need to violate this rule.  She had been in here twice this morning.  “Are you going to stay in here all day baby?  You do have children you know.  I know when I had my kids, I just couldn’t get enough of them.  There was nothing so bad about them that would make me want to hide away on a couch all day.”

How did I put this before?  Fuck that bitch.  Amen.

© 2013 Mia L. Hazlett

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April 11, 2013 · 12:12 pm

In My Head – Part II

By: Mia Hazlett
4/11/13

Dear Diary,

I haven’t seen my dad in two weeks.  I think my parents are going to get a divorce.  My friend Sara at school and another boy Philip, their parents are divorced.  I know a whole bunch of other kids whose parents never even got married.

I miss my dad.  I wish he was here or that I could just see him.  He called a couple of times, but that’s not the same.  He says he and my mommy are just taking a little break right now.  I guess kinda like me and my friend Sara got in a fight that one time and we didn’t talk to each other for three whole days.  We didn’t even sit with each other at lunch or on the bus.  That was the worst fight in the whole world.

But this is worse than three days.  It has been two weeks and one day.  I’ve been marking it on my calendar.  I heard my mother on the phone the other day saying she was so happy he was gone.  I don’t want her to be happy he’s gone.  I want her to miss him like I do.  If she doesn’t miss him than he won’t come back and live with us or maybe to even see us.

I heard my mother praying the other night for peace.  I don’t know what that means, but she sure has been happy.  She was in the kitchen the other day making dinner and she was singing and dancing.  A long time ago before my sister was born, she used to do that when she was cooking, but I haven’t seen her like that in like forever.

Then the other night, we stayed up until like 11 watching a movie.  She made us popcorn and not even the whole night did she talk on her phone.  Not once.  Not even to text.  But when she went to the bathroom I looked at her phone.  It was Daddy saying he was sorry and he loved her.

I hope she wrote him back later.  I mean he was saying sorry.  You’re supposed to make everything ok if someone says they are sorry.  But I don’t know if I want her to be sad again.  It has been really fun doing stuff with my mom since she’s been happy.  I just wish I could see my dad too.

From – Me

© Copyright 2013, Mia L. Hazlett

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June 13, 2011 · 8:59 pm

Anointed Numbers

Anointed Numbers
By: Mia L. Hazlett
6/13/11

You waited on the well for me in 4:16.

I surrendered my all to you when I lost understanding.
You wrote to me 3:5 and 3:6.

When my life made no sense and I lost it all,
You smiled upon me and promised me 23:1.

When I prayed for just the small gains,
You assured me 16:10.

You transformed my ways, and brought grace to my humble spirit,
Because 4:6.

There were times that I stumbled, but never lost faith.
I delighted in Your mighty approval, 25:21.

With the failure of 5:25, you granted me the permission to love freely,
Because of 5:32.

And when I was ready to settle, You moved me once more.
For my 3:20, commanded so much more.

So with an open heart because I wanted to feast,
I held on to Your promise of 1:19.

Because I know that 6:10,
And through Your grace, 23:6.

In Jesus Name, Amen.

(John, Proverbs, Psalms, Luke, James, Matthew, Ephesians, Matthew, Ephesians, Isaiah, Matthew, Psalms)

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March 31, 2011 · 4:31 am

Conundrum (Part VIII)

Conundrum (Part VIII)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/30/11

There was a time in my life that I believed in fairy tales. When I met my husband, I was sure there was a happily ever after ending for us. There was an image of us in our rocking chairs on the front porch of the home we had spent a lifetime building together. We’d watch our grandchildren run about the front yard as we sipped on our lemonade and I rocked my youngest grand baby in my arms. I believed in “till death do us part.”

And even as I sat in the very cold corporate mediation conference room, I still couldn’t accept that this was how it was all going to end. I waited alone at the long highly polished dark mahogany table. Every part of my marriage contradicted the fairy tale I carried around in my mind. Because my entire marriage consisted of the very moment I was experiencing right now, being alone. Even in his presence, I was alone. And now we had arrived at the end and I waited alone.

My loneliness was interrupted by the mediator. Formalities and small talk were exchanged as we waited the arrival of the boy. Time ticked on and the small talk dwindled. And finally after twenty minutes, the little boy entered. He appeared polished from head to toe. His light gait carried an arrogance as he seated himself at the head of the table. So much for our rocking chairs on the front porch.

I remained seated after the short ten minutes of complete devastation took place. Nothing. He wanted nothing. He signed everywhere the mediator told him to sign and left. He left with no wife, no kids, no happily ever after, just an agreement for child support. He initialed and signed it all away.

I’m not sure what hit the floor first, my tears or the pictures of our…my…new daughter that he had never met. I don’t know what compelled me to think he would want to see her, but as the mediator placed the pictures back in my hands, I dried my tears. She would be better off not knowing him anyways. Because the man at conception, was not the boy that just left this room.

I wasn’t devastated because my marriage was over. I wasn’t hurt that he didn’t want me anymore. I was hurt because today my children were stripped of their fairy tale. Their happily ever after had been reduced to a 50/50 statistic.

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March 2, 2011 · 4:26 am

BFF III

BFF III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/1/11

My best friend was my soul mate. Odd? Not really. I laughed when people made that claim about their spouses. It just wasn’t true. Ask any person if they tell their spouse everything…and I mean everything. I myself was married. But unlike my best friend, my husband wasn’t there when I was in elementary school. He didn’t experience my first kiss when I played spin-the-bottle at Jerry Cartright’s party when I was twelve. He didn’t try to get my first crush to talk to me by hanging out at his locker after third period everyday for a week, when I was fourteen. And he’s never told me that I look fat. He doesn’t even know what colors make me look fat, nevermind tell me the truth when I try wear them. And he sure the hell wasn’t there to assist me in writing the worst love email of my life. My soul mate, Kay, she’s been there through it all and because of her, yellow and baby blue are sworn out of my wardrobe.

I actually thought my husband’s jealousy over our relationship proved my case even more. Because my soul mate could not care less how he felt about her. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t be my best friend. There was no comprehension in the difference in my relationship with Kay and with him. I couldn’t marry her. I couldn’t start a family with her. The whole live together thing had never happened. And I prefer to sleep with men, not women. She can’t be him and he can’t be her.

But now since my life partner and BFF learned they both loved me, things were backfiring on me. They liked each other. Meaning, they had each other’s cell and work numbers. And get this, my BFF took his side sometimes. For the first time in our lifetime of friendship she was telling me I was wrong. As jealous as my stupid husband got, he didn’t realize that my BFF had been the glue in our relationship at times. She was a wonderful mediator and had the peace of my soul in her best interest. So in my six years of marriage and my lifetime friendship, I was able to comfortably co-exist with my two favorite people. My life was happy and it was all mine.

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August 30, 2010 · 10:41 pm

Conundrum (Part III)

Conundrum (Part III)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
8/31/10

As a little girl, I always believed there was a happily ever after. The concept of spending forever with someone was perfectly logical. But some how life got in the way of me spending my life with my forever. So now the only life that existed for me would be spent alone raising three children.

I wasn’t going to share the news of my pregnancy with my husband. Instead I was going to allow myself the joy of telling him quite the opposite should he decide to care or ask. I really didn’t care how big my stomach got, I would lie to him as he so enjoyed doing to me. But the God in me wouldn’t allow me to join the devil, so I called him and said I was locked out of the house and needed his keys. Granted still a lie, but it was the only way I could guarantee he would come home. Funny I was so afraid to lose my forever, even when I was lying to get it to come home and see me.

Luckily it was a lie and I had my set of keys, because I would have gone the bathroom on myself waiting the 45 minutes it took him to get home. He arrived in the bedroom with a quizzical expression. I continued to paint my nails and with a stroke of the brush, shared my news. He punched a hole in the wall and left without a word. My tears didn’t break until I heard the front door close. I had promised myself the night he dropped me off to go to his mother’s, he would never see me cry for him again.

It’s not that it was my forever that was now lost, but this is not the forever I had promised my children. The moment the nurse placed my daughters in my arms, I promised them that their parents would give them the world. Not that I would give them the world, but we would give them the world. But now I truly had to wrap my mind around the concept that he wasn’t going to be here forever. I, solely, will be my children’s forever.

Days passed without return. The house no longer skipped a beat and I started to run my home as if he no longer lived with us. The third day he returned and searched the kitchen for his dinner plate. Because his forever consisted of dinner on the table or in the microwave waiting when he arrived. But like I said, in my mind, he no longer lived here. There were no leftovers. I cooked for three now…well four.

Work was grueling now. It wasn’t like my other pregnancies when I was working. I had to treat this job as the sole income for my family now. I already carried all of the benefits, but I really had to stretch each check to ensure it covered all expenses. As I came to realize, I was short $260 dollars. If I could come up with that, I could sustain our lifestyle. I took the money he gave me for bills and began to save. Little did he know he was being worked out of our lives.

As I returned home from work two nights after he discovered he was no longer going to be served dinner, my realization from weeks past came true. The girls and I ate. My oldest bathed my youngest, because bending and kneeling were just too cumbersome and painful now. She than took a shower. I read them a story and tucked them in. As I hunted for my bathrobe, I noticed the space in my closet. There was a small space on both the floor and the rack. He had taken his clothes and shoes. I quickly checked the drawers in the bureau, only to find the same emptiness. He was gone. My forever-their forever was gone.

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July 23, 2010 · 8:31 pm

Conundrum (Part II)

Conundrum (Part II)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
7/23/10

I allowed the days to pass without sharing the news with my husband. Unfortunately at almost forty years-old he had not learned to have his own emotions. I had to look at how his mother felt towards me and that would pretty much dictate the person who walked through my door at the end of the day. So for now she wasn’t speaking to me or our daughters, luckily he was still speaking to our children.

He hadn’t returned any of my phone calls today, nor come home. I spent most of the night up with our two year-old daughter and finally just let her fall asleep in his spot. And in one of the moments that I watched her sleep, it hit me; I was about to raise these three children by myself. He wasn’t going to be here through this pregnancy. At that moment I knew I would never share my bed with my husband again. I had lost my husband to a woman that he was supposed to have left so he could cleave to me. I mean it’s in the Bible. They’re Christians. He was raised in the church and she claims to be involved in hers. So why were they not honoring the word of God?

I woke in the morning to the incessant chirping of my old alarm clock. My daughter slightly stirred, but settled back under the blanket. I rose with a sharp pain in my back and then it shot down my right leg. I stifled all movement and tried to turn so I could get back in the bed. Ouch! That was not about to happen. The pain was excruciating with even the slightest movement. I decided to call out to my husband in the hopes he was just downstairs on our couch after discovering our daughter in his spot.

By the time I had shouted his name the third time, my eight year-old came into the room. I conveyed the situation and before I could finish, she was swinging my legs onto the bed with the rest of me. As I was explaining, she simply pushed me back. My body was so rigid with pain I fell straight back. It’s amazing what children remember. She had to do the same thing when I was pregnant with her sister. And once again he was missing. I couldn’t do this to her again. I refused to allow her to take on his responsibilities. But as I tried to move, I cried out in pain.

Unfortunately, our oldest is well rehearsed in her father’s disappearance acts. She got her sister up and dressed and then herself. She prepared them cereal and made her lunch for school. In the meantime, I made a phone call to my girlfriend and their godmother, who came over and took them to school. As only a best friend could she promised her return, caretaking, and lecture. I guess you could say I fear God, my mother, and her. I guess her moreso than my mother because she knows everything.

I heard the door downstairs open and awaited her lecture. But to my surprise, my husband entered our bedroom dressed in the same clothes he left in yesterday. After inquiring about the kids whereabouts and why I was not at work, he got in the shower and then left. The one thing I was finding out about my crying for him, it wasn’t lasting so long and it didn’t hurt so much when he didn’t come home or left.

Not long after the tears subsided; the lecturer returned, rice cakes and sparkling water in hand. I really had to work on that with her. When we didn’t see each other for a while, she was never dieting. Now when I couldn’t move and needed comfort food, I crunched on salt flavored cardboard and sipped on fake soda. The lecture was redundant from his previous wrong doings. It all came down to, stay or leave. It’s my choice. To stay meant to accept who he was and that his mother came with the package. To leave meant I might lose her, but ultimately I was still tied to him through the kids.

I guess the one thing she did bring to my attention was the phrase, “actions speak louder than words”. She told me not to be fooled by those that can quote the Bible and go to church. Observe how they are living their so called Christian lives. Because ultimately their actions will speak louder than their words.

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October 23, 2007 · 2:49 am

That Look

That Look
By: Mia L. Hazlett
Written: 10/22/07

I watched the look of concern sweep across her face as she rushed to be by her lover’s side. She just stood there as if she didn’t even care. Their hands reached out for each other to give them both the sense of security that everything would be alright. I couldn’t even tell if she was touching him or if he even knew she was there. A tear welled in the corner, but was very cautious not to fall. I couldn’t tell if her emotionless expression was to show her strength or to suppress her pain. She caressed his hand to let him know she would not let anything happen to him. How could she just stand there as if nothing had happened?

My fascination with their love was not in their entwined hands, her concerned brow or his instant relief at having her enter the room. It was the look that both of them shared. A look that needed no words. A look that offered comfort in a time of emergency. A look that said, I love you, I love you, I love you….don’t leave me, I need you here by my side. As the nurse forced their departure, that cautious tear finally streamed down her cheek. She let herself look back one more time with that look…that look.

I could tell by her poise, her refusal to look at him, and that he reached for me and not her, that whatever they had was now gone. She offered no love to anyone that came in the room. She stood off to the side allowing people to shuffle through without so much as a glance. I couldn’t tell if he was looking for me or her, but when he called her name, she gave him a look. A look of disgust. A look of why am I even here. A look that said, die, die, just die…I don’t love you or want to be by your side. But as the nurse forced my departure, she gave me that look…that look.

I sat alone in the steel wheeled chair. If not for his brothers, I wouldn’t have been able to take a step. The nonchalant smile of the nurse offered little comfort. His brother’s arms supported me and offered me comfort in my time of need. If only he had come home tonight. If only we had stayed in tonight. We could have talked about our problems and we wouldn’t be here. He would be deep inside me right now and not laying alone. I would tell him that it was going to be alright and we could start over. I could almost feel the rhythmic rocking of his hips, taste his mouth, and feel his breath. But now we may never have that chance. But the reality is I may never touch him again. He may never hold our children again. He may never hold me again. We could lose him forever. I could lose him forever.

How can I go home? How can I go home? What will I tell his family, what will I tell my family, what will I tell our babies; because I don’t know what happened. There is everything there to remind me of him: his clothes carelessly strewn across the floor, our pictures that highlight every room, the smell of him on my sheets. Lord Jesus, give me strength for You are my rock. I want to pray to God to bring him back to me, but then there goes his wife with that look…that look.

That’s right, I’m his wife. I watched her concerned look, their entwined fingers, and that look. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t be; because in the union of he and I, the odd one out was me. In that one moment, I wanted to be her. I wanted that look. I wanted him to know I would make everything alright. I wanted him to see my tears did not have to be cautious. I wanted him to need me there by his side.

His brothers promised to take care of me, but they chose her. In the house of the Lord they smiled at me, but in the streets with the devil they honored her. They left me alone with no ride home. They left me alone and cared for her. They left me alone and didn’t care. But when he asked them to take care of me, that old familiar church smile came back, and they said, “No problem.” But that’s okay; because little did I know He did not leave me alone. He got me a ride home. He took care of me. He carried me through.

That’s right, I’m his mistress. I should be her. I’m the one he really wants to be with. If only she knew who I was, she wouldn’t have so cordially introduced herself and shaken my hand. She would have screamed when I caressed his hands or cried at his relief when I entered the room. She would have crumbled if she knew of our secret love affair. Wouldn’t she? Because no wife would allow the other women to love her husband right in front of her…or would she? Because when she passed me, she gave me that look…that look.

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