Sunday, March 29, 2015

shame not bravery...

When people tell me I was SO BRAVE for leaving him, I laugh to myself....sadly.  
It wasn't bravery, it was fucking survival.  I couldn't live another day under the same roof with him.  Not when I knew the truth finally.
I didn't feel like I had a choice.
I had to leave.  
Leave or die.

And even after I left, there were a few months that I didn't care whether I lived or died.  I took insanely crazy risks.   I'm ashamed to admit that I took huge risks with my life.  Stupid ones, because I was in so much pain.

•driving drunk, not just tipsy but drunk. 

•speeding and driving recklessly at high speeds 75mph+, while drinking.  

•mixing HIGH doses morphine and large amounts of alcohol.

•cutting myself as deep as I was able, making sure I drew blood...and a lot of it. 

•walking in areas of downtown Portland late at night that were considered dangerous.

I didn't care anymore.  I almost wanted something horrible to happen to me so I didn't have to face another day.   
I wanted him to mourn me, to feel just an ounce of the pain I suffered.  

The only problem?  He didn't care(anymore).  He didn't see our separation as a mistake.  

He never showed up at my apartment begging me to come back to him, not once.  
He never came after me.

In the end, I wasn't even important enough to chase after, let alone fight for.  

Sunday, March 8, 2015

deal breaker...

He said he wanted to fight for me, wanted us to be together.  That he loved me.  

But when I said I needed him to show me love.  That I couldn't go through years again without sex, without intimacy, without affection.  I couldn't live in a platonic marriage.  

I guess that was the deal breaker for him because he then offered to sleep on the couch.  Which just tells me, he has nothing to give me.  Absolutely nothing.  

I guess it's better to know now.  Then go years barely having sex.  I can't do it anymore.  I just can't.  

And clearly showing me affection, being intimate with me, having sex with me, just isn't something he wants to do with me, his wife.  Not at all.  

It just must be fucking horrible for him to touch me.  

Saturday, March 7, 2015

I am done.  

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

human touch...

I'm only human.  
I need a person's touch.   I crave it.  Yours.  

To feel someone's hand stroke over my hip, a loving caress down my cheek.  

Humans need that contact.   It's a universal fact.  Without human contact, the wiring in our brains start to fall apart.  Short out?

It's been so long, that when you reach out to touch me, it hurts.  It fucking hurts now to feel your touch.  

(It's so fucked up and I don't understand how you can go thru life without someone's(my) touch.  Or are you getting someone's touch?  Just not mine?)

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

I'm worth more...

Let me tell you how your one word answers/texts make me feel...

When I say good morning, or good night, followed by kisses and other expressions of my affection and my love, and you simply say, "morning, and/or nite" and nothing else, it makes my heart hurt.  It makes my tears start to fall, again.  

There is no feeling, no affection, no love behind those one word comments.   They just sit there by themselves.   Alone.  

You aren't telling me to have a good morning, or a good nights sleep.  You aren't even showing any kind of affection let alone love.   It's as if you're talking to a stranger, certainly not your wife, you say you love.  

When I ask(beg), "no kisses?"  It's like begging for your affection/love.   Actually, it's not LIKE begging, it IS begging.  Begging for you to show me you love me, you care for me.  

It makes me feel, exactly feel like you are keeping your love and affection from me...with thought, with purpose.   It sadly reminds me of a time when you gave your love and affection(and time) willingly, happily to me.   

I sit there and look at that one word.  Just like this morning, waiting for more.  Waiting for some kind of hint or hope that that monotone word won't just sit there all alone.   Yet after 20/25 minutes I know no other words are coming.  You've said your piece/peace.  

There is no universe where you don't know or understand what you are doing.  And it's cruel...with everything else going on in our lives, it's fucking cruel how you hold your love out of reach from me.  

How long are you going to keep it from me?   It's been years now, haven't I waited long enough?   Does seeing me like this give you some perverse pleasure?   Dangling it in from of me, and only showing me glimpses of your affection every 6-8 weeks?   

Haven't I proven to you I'm worthy of your love?

I must be a masochist, because I keep coming back for more.   

What scares me, is thinking that you somehow think this is ok, and it's the only way you think to keep me tied to you.   I would have thought after this last year, that you'd realize I'm at my breaking point.  

I'm beyond my breaking point.  

For too long I've questioned my worthiness...and I realize now why.   I deserve to be loved.  
I fucking deserve to be loved damn it. 

I'm tired of reaching for something, that so obviously you don't want to give to me, share with me.  
I'm tired of beating myself up that I'm not worthy enough.  

I'm tired of begging.  I shouldn't have to beg you, to show me love and affection.  

I'm empty.  I have nothing left to give because my soul and heart have not been replenished in years.  

I can't delude myself any longer.  
I just can't, it's killing me inside...and I'm worth more than that.  

I'm worth much more.  

Monday, February 16, 2015

facing fears

I don't think H will ever need/want me with the same consuming need and urgency that I want him. 
And after 26 years together I think I finally need to face this fact.  

I need to stop pretending I can change him or the situation...but the thought of living the rest of my life in a sexless marriage terrifies me and makes my heart hurt. 

Because, of course, I question whether he's seeking sex elsewhere(even with himself)...because he simply doesn't want sex or any kind of intimacy with me.  

At least not with any kind of regularity, and once a month makes me feel unfeminine...unwanted.  

Friday, December 26, 2014

getting thru the holidays...

we've been seeing the marriage counselor now once, twice, sometimes three times a week.  

I swear I sit down, and it's like the faucet turns on and my tears just flow for the next 60 minutes.  

for every step forward, we seem to take two steps back, as we try to learn how to communicate to each other in a healthy way after 12 months of us barely speaking to each other.  
and it's hard.  

H pushes me to move on and "get over" the last 2.5 years, but there are some things I won't be able to "get over" until we talk them out.   I need him to hear me...perhaps for the 1st time in a long time. 
and I need some validation that he's responsible for a lot of what happened. 

until I get that, I'm not sure I can move on...and that pisses him off.  

sometimes it seems we fight almost every night, and I keep waiting for him to finally say that he's done.  waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

only just last week the therapist wanted to start talking about our sex life.  
fuck, that's got me worried and stressed.

I can feel more tears coming on.