You don’t know the half of me. I show you, and you run.
You don’t know the half of me. I show you, and you run.
I feel so alone.
I’m listening to my beautiful two kids playing make believe in the bath and all I can hope is that all of their dreams come true.
I’ve pursued my husband so much since him and I stopped contact. I haven’t received any sort of comfort, affirmation, or physical pleasure from my husband. I know I’m being way more needy now that I don’t have him. I know it’s the right thing. In the long run I know I’ll be grateful. I don’t want to be eighty and have my husband who I love next to me, and secretly be wishing I had never hurt him or betrayed him like I did X years ago. That doesn’t stop me from hurting now. Or being lonely.
I’m so grateful he is letting me be free. I have stopped saying what I want or wish or feel and I think it’s helping. I’m coping in different ways. I guess. I’ve thrown myself at my husband. I got nipple piercings for fun. Wanted to feel alive. My husband remains mainly indifferent. The first thing I wanted to do was to show him. But that wouldn’t have helped. It turns out I’m the one who can’t just be friends. Do I miss him? Yes. Long for him? Yes. Long for his friendship, laughter, companionship, heart, smile, stories, touch, hugs, kiss? More than I ache to describe. But this is the right thing. And I can’t be just his friend even though I miss him. He’s my best friend. Absolutely. But I can’t be just friends. I don’t have the strength. I don’t have the desire to deny myself again. So I close the door to my heart to him. And I am so sorry. I am so unbelievably sorry. Thank you for letting me fly. I promise I’ll find my way. I know my marriage will get better. I’m trying to be patient. See? You’re still in my head. Always. And heart.
But I know this is right. I do.
Flashing back to playing pool.
Thinking of us.
Thinking of you.
Thinking of loving you.
It’s for the best. Bu this doesn’t feel the best.
It will be okay. It doesn’t feel okay right now but it gets better. I promise. That’s what I tell myself.
Enjoying my bath far less than usual tonight. And only drinking a Coors Light. FML.
To my husband,
I long for you to get me something this valentine’s day. Not a card with “i love you” and your named signed at the bottom. Not even necessarily flowers, although I’m sure they would be lovely. I long for your tender touch. I long to look in your eyes and feel you look back. I long for your attention, your adoration, your kindness, your everything. I long to be your everything.
He said it’s not wrong to be hopeful to get something on valentine’s day. I responded that hopes turn into expectations, and often – unmet expectations, and then inevitably hurt feelings and disappointment. When did marriage become so disappointing?
I started my period last night. Fabulous. 3 days early. Last month (or was it the month before?) almost a week late. I have acne like a 13 year old. I have to clean the shower out almost daily from the hair I’m loosing. Nope – I’m not stressed. Today, I’m actually pleased. I’m happy. I’m grateful to be loved and be in the love (thinking of him now). I’m excited for his weekend with his wife. I hope it will get him encouraged and inspired for their marriage. I don’t want to think about any possible adverse affects on us. I want him happy. But my body is showing the toll that my marriage is taking on me. We’re not even fighting, but I am. Fighting for us. Fighting for our marriage. In my heart, I fight. And my body is tired. I long for you to take care of me. I long to feel you touch me and to feel what I feel when he touches me.
My husband doesn’t have to work today. I tried not to hope that he would want to suprise me by taking me out to lunch. He didn’t offer. And I’m not disappointed. (Will saying I feel a certain way make it real?)
I want so badly to give myself physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
I want so badly to give my heart in its fullness. It is yearning to be given. To my husband – I know it won’t be reciprocated. I worry it won’t be cherished like I feel it deserves to be. I worry it won’t be appreciated. That I’ll give him my heart and be crushed. I can’t give it to him. At least, not how I envision giving my heart. He has given his heart to his wife – and rightfully so. She has given him hers. It’s an exchange that does not want a 3rd party. I can give him my love as much as I am, and I plan on continuing to do so for as long as I can.
I am beginning to understand why I idolized the idea of marriage as a little girl. Maybe that’s why all little girls idolize marriage. The idea of giving yourself wholly to someone, only to realize they are doing it in return- utter selflessness, an undeserving gift, being vulnerable – only to have the exact priceless gift reciprocated : love. It is priceless.
I hope he loves me. I hope he feels my love. I hope he can love me back. Even as I love another.
I’ve heard it said that women talk twice as much as men. Once in a while, I will think about things – and the speed of my thoughts, the tangents my brain takes – it would overwhelm anyone who had the energy to spare.
I took a shower tonight. One of those hot, scalding showers. I know I shouldn’t with the drought and all, but I’m sure it wasted less water than a bath. I thought about him. I thought about this past week. I thought about grocery shopping before tomorrow’s game. I thought about my daughter.
Earlier this week I dropped her off at daycare. She didn’t run off like normal. She just stood there. It wasn’t like her. Her teacher came up to me and asked me if I thought she was still getting over her ear infection from the weekend. I let her know she was all done with her antibiotics, but – perhaps. The teacher said she hadn’t acted herself lately. She wasn’t playing on the playground with her friends. In fact, she hadn’t really wanted to play outside at all. This was not like my daughter. I looked at E’s sweet 3-year-old face as she blankly stared into the distance. I saw myself – my depressed self – and it scared the shit out of me. After that thought had done its damage for the day, she turned and looked at me, and gave me her half grin. I told her to run and play and she whined a bit, and then did as I asked.
I remember after I first had E, I spent many midnight feedings praying over her. I prayed she would never know depression. The thought that I could pass that on to our kids was a big factor in why I wanted to wait to have kids. I was terrified I would (genetically) was it on. Granted, waiting to have children wouldn’t prevent that from happening. But it is still such a fear. And her face that day at preschool haunts me. The emptiness in my lovely, joy-filled, bouncing-off-the-walls, mis-matched socks and sleeveless dresses in January daughter – I vow to never stop praying for her joy.
I’m thinking of you tonight. You have your sushi party tonight and I know you picked up your new gun today. I thought about you this morning. Your face crosses my subconscious repeatedly throughout my days. Today I watched a wedding on television, and again, I envisioned myself in the dress I would wear for our wedding. A form-fitting, sexy, elegant, dress. I hadn’t imagined that for a while now. (I previously used to have thoughts like that cross my mind a bit more often). I wonder if it has anything to do with this week.
With loving you comes the highest highs. But it also brings this cloud that I see in the distance. The cloud that hangs I suppose, over every affair that makes our perfect tainted. I don’t like to think of it as tainted, but affair – that word has a particular connotation. I keep thinking about these last few days. They were wonderful. But my heart also feels a weight on it. I can’t describe it. Maybe it’s because I found myself daydreaming about our wedding today? Maybe it’s because I worry about my relationship with God? I don’t want to go back to nothing. It was too hard. And this is so fucking easy. Being with you is so easy. The weight, it’s due to a longing for you that I know will never go away. I’m grateful I have it, because without you, it’s a longing with a searing pain. With you, it’s a longing that aches, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as it does when I’m without you.
Women think so much more than men sometimes.
I’m what you would call…. processing.
I had the best day ever – all because of him. I’m not sure what started it but yesterday we started texting – texting things that I had forbidden myself to text, to think, to dream of. But I took off the handcuffs (so to speak) and allowed myself to have fun. And it was fun. Very fun. Later in the day we went for a nice walk in the park. We sat down and talked for a while – mainly giggled and smiled about our earlier texts.
I went home, wet and horny as hell. My husband and I had sex. I knew what I had to do. It was dark – completely pitch black. I think that’s the only way I can have sex with him. I can’t let him see me cry (emotional pain, not physical).
When he finished, I thanked him, and rolled over on my side. He got on his phone to play candy crush. That’s my marriage. I love him, and it sucks.
I spent most of the night awake, thinking of him. I envisioned kissing him passionately in the basement. My vagina ached for him. I was overwhelmed at how much I love him. I guess this past month I’ve just been living in denial, and although I will probably continue to live in denial of my love for him, I embraced it yesterday and last night, and then again today.
After he denied my request for “truck time”, I felt such a weird mirage of emotions. Of course, leave it to me, to choose the most respectable man in the world to cheat with. He’s going to be respectful and let me wait out my horniess. He didn’t want to feel like he had coerced me. Little did he know I was the sinful one. I was the one pushing him. Pushing him towards me. Towards me with all that I have. I have never before pulled someone in, while knowing I had to push them away. I should be better. My husband deserves better. His wife deserves better.
Fine you all can hate me. I’ve accepted that what we do is wrong, but it’s right.
Why the fuck do you think I’ve ended it so many times? He thought about it too! It feels so right … today…my heart… my body. I know.. I hear it too.. me me me me me. What about my husband? Well the only reason I was able to have sex last night with my husband was by thinking about him. What about him? I allow him to think for himself. Make the choices that he wants. I don’t want to do what my mom does – make a decision because “that’s what’s best for me”. IE) I can’t hang out because I know you’re tired. No. If he doesn’t want to XYZ, then he needs to say so. And I believe he will. Just like I will.
He accepted my invitation for lunch, as well as my unspoken invitation to the basement. He touched me. i held him. We kissed. And 3 hours later I’m still out of it. I have no idea what tomorrow or the next day is. Can’t I sit here and enjoy the memory of his smell, his touch, his taste?
I love him.
I know it sounds foolish. A man I have known less than six months. A man who, now that I have resolved to stay married, I have no intention of being with someday. Where do we go from here? What are we? Was it easier black and white when I didn’t let myself feel anything? Not talk to you? Ache for you? The disloyalty, I remind myself, was haunting. My relationship with God was why I stopped us for good. I don’t know what me asking for “truck time” means.
I have read several posts from women who have been cheated on. Some who are still with their spouse, and others whose spouses have left. I feel for you.
You have every right to hate me. But I didn’t try and take your husband away. He says he already was.
in the beginning, I was selfish. I was horny, and extremely attracted to him. He was so fucking intelligent, and beautiful. I had never cheated with anyone before. Okay – one other person.
A terrible fuck – he bent me over my new motorcycle and didn’t even let me climax.
I know – whore. I deserved not to enjoy it, right? But him and I, we didn’t mean to. We were friends. Close friends who flirted. We shared laughs, and experiences we could never share with our spouses. And then somewhere, pretty close to the beginning, we fell in love. So deeply in love. We talked about the “in love” vs. love. We realized that together, we didn’t have a mortgage, kids, bills, etc. It was a lot easier to be in love with each other rather than our spouse. We didn’t have to deal with life. We shared our dreams of running away, what life would be like. But we both have kids we are terribly in love with. And the consequences of divorce…. he says he would leave if he knew we had a chance.
I told him I chose my husband.
I’m scared of divorce. It’s scary. And what my husband and I have is… comfortable. It’s not joyful all the time, although we have moments of joy. It’s not passionate. It’s not romantic. It’s not selfless. It’s an agreement, for better or for worse, to be the best parents we can, and to make it work. I fear the day when my love for him is no more.
I think I would call this phase a self hatred phase. I hate what I’m doing, but I feel like I know the consequences. I know the consequences should out weigh the benefits but it just doesn’t right now. It’s stupid – wanting to make love to a man I can never be with. It could run our marriages. It could ruin our jobs. It could ruin our friendship. So why can’t I help but text him “truck time”?
It’s been a nice weekend. A busy weekend. Yesterday I had over 16 other girls for a night filled with wine, chocolate, cheese, and a variety of conversation. While the wines ranged from whites to reds, the conversations ranged from wedding planning to clit and nipple piercings, orgasms, toddler tv shows, and more. It was a lot of fun, and while the personality types were as diverse as the wine and conversations, I was pleasantly surprised at how well everyone got along. The later the evening went the more the wine poured. The fire pit kept us warm until around 11 or so when we called it a night. I can’t wait till next year.
Today held the promise of big plans with a day at the zoo planned with neighbors, and a spaghetti feed event in the evening at my parents’ church. Neither happened as we ended up driving to Kaiser instead of the zoo. We had every intention of going, but while at the park this morning my daughter started winning and crying, complaining of ear pain. We were hoping some Tylenol would do the trick – maybe she was just over tired? No such luck. The weekend Kaiser pediatrician said she had the start of an infection in the ear she was complaining about, so I’m glad we went. But she was so sad still, all day. She’s only three. Poor baby girl. The kids have had a rough winter.
We woke up from our afternoon nap about a quarter till 5. I got to sleep on the still inflated aero bed that my cousin had used the night before. My daughter snuggled with me, and I loved it. Shortly after it was obvious the spaghetti feed wasn’t going to happen. At least I thought it was obvious. I guess my husband didn’t agree, which he told me later. I kept asking him what we should do; he didn’t say anything. So I decided. Which I guess he disagreed. He wanted to tell me instead of holding it in, which was well intended. But I don’t understand how I could have acted differently. I gave him the opportunity to say what he thought, he didn’t, I made a choice – which I thought we both agreed on. Ugh Marriage is hard.
My feelings for him are still quite strong. I wonder if he is why I can not have sex with my husband. It has been so long since we did. Maybe a month? To say my husband is discouraged is an understatement, but I literally have absolutely no desire for it. He tried kissing me the other night and when I objected my mouth opened instead and I said something along the lines of, I’m sorry I just have so many times where I remember standing in front of you naked and you saying no that it has just turned off the desire for – I stopped myself. His reply took my breath away-
well why don’t we just get a divorce then. If you don’t believe that I didn’t have an affair, if you don’t think you can forgive me, you don’t feel loved or listened to, let’s just get a divorce.
What? I didn’t think my heart could possibly become more crushed than it already has been this last month trying to sort my feelings with him, and now my husband is talking about divorce? Granted 3 weeks ago I said I was looking for a place to stay, but I never mentioned divorce. We talked a bit more but his resignation was deafening. It is where I was just three weeks ago. I was so tired of fighting for our marriage, alone – or at least it felt along.
Later in the day, after a very long, tiring, depleting day of two toddlers who were very sad we didn’t go to the zoo, we laid down int he front room. He said he was in love, and asked me in his almost forgotten flirtatious language, you’re supposed to ask me with who. I said with who. He said, with this girl who is smart, and a great my kids, and …. I asked him something that most people who have seen as rude. But my husband is not a very direct person, and we so often talk in what feels like code. I just wanted to feel like we were having a normal conversation. I asked him to speak in the first person, or say “you are”. So he did. I couldn’t help but not feel anything still. I wanted to. At the end, all I could muster up, I just feel like my heart is so beat up after this last month. Okkkaayy was his response. I feel like I’ve been a terrible wife. But I literally feel nothing. I am so sad. I want to. Desperately. And I do love him. But there is no desire for intimacy. After that night, and tense conversation after tense conversation, the expectations are just so high, and I know I won’t enjoy it because I just flat don’t. But I wonder if that’s why I’ve been able to avoid him. My heart has just turned off my desire, and now I don’t know how to turn it back on. It’s affecting our marriage. A lot.
Him, that night, so much divorce talk, its like we have the world against us, the weight of the world on my shoulders, and no amount of lifting can get it off. I don’t know how to make it better. I don’t know how to feel passion again. I don’t know how to let down my guard. To feel love in a passionate way. It’s so sad. I’m so sad.
I started taking 20mg of Prozac on Friday. And no, it’s not because I’m hiding from my marriage – but I don’t fault him for asking. I think I was over medicated in the past. But 20mg is nothing. I was on 80 before, plus 2 other drugs. I don’t feel any better yet. But it’s supposed to take awhile. I miss him. I miss feeling something in my marriage. I’m glad I had fun Saturday night, but I had hoped the joy would last longer.
Today I had lunch with him. It was the first day in forever – seeing him turn the corner I literally felt my face light up. My heart skipped, then stopped. I was so nervous and excited before seeing him, but I felt like I could handle it. I could make it through lunch without gushing or groping, right? I really enjoyed being with him. I am so grateful for the times he shares his heart with me, even if it’s just a little. Thank you.
I hate how absolutely happy I am right now. Seriously! It feels great because I feel like I haven’t been this happy in weeks! The power his heart has over me. His smile. I know we can’t be together. But maybe we can be friends. Somehow. I don’t know how. But maybe we can just take it one day at a time. Today was great. I will try my hardest not to look into it, not to analyze and replay our conversation. I miss his smile. I haven’t let myself miss his smile but oh I miss it. And dam he looked great. Cleanly shaven, hair cut, great body. He has a great body. I’ve always loved it. So not sure how to be friends with that, but I sure loved today.
My son is still home sick, and my daughter as well. I will probably have to stay home tomorrow. I hate that immediately I think “oh I don’t want to not see him for 3 days”. I can’t go back to counting the days until I see him.
How do you bring yourself back to a place of friendship with someone you only know how to love with all of who you are?
Seriously. For anyone reading who is not him, how do you do that? I know you can love a friend, but can you love a friend? I have stopped closing my eyes to daydream about him. It wasn’t helping. But seeing him brings that all back. And I hate how much I love the feeling of being in love with him. I can’t see how that’s healthy for a marriage. I don’t know. I wish my brain would just let me enjoy our time. He sent me this picture after our lunch. It’s too fitting not to share.
Is posting this destructive? Is letting him know where my heart is good? Should this be a draft? I don’t want to go backwards. I don’t want to go back to being in love. I want to move forward – to a healthier marriage. I can’t have him and my husband.
Okay Sammi, stop. Today is just a day. It was just a lunch. It was a wonderful lunch. But stop worrying. Stop thinking it means something when it doesn’t. It was 2 friends having lunch, catching up. Hopefully you’ll get together again soon. Don’t let your mind or heart wander. Stay true to the path you believe is right. You’ll always to some extent love him. You gave him a piece of your heart. A big piece. You thought about divorce. You thought about marriage. Of course having lunch with him brings up some mixed emotions. But don’t read into it. Just enjoy it, and when you feel strong again- do it again.
Ugh. This post sucks.