Him

by sammijeans

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.

 

Shit.

 

But I know this is right. I do.