When you fall asleep in front of the TV, and I wake you up and you get all snippy, and then I follow you to bed about an hour later after doing stuff like laundry, dishes, and dog-walking (which you don't do), I do not want to have sex.
You say that some nights the dogs almost push you out of bed. Then why can't I get you to roll over? I have shoved you so hard that I'm sweating, and you don't move.
When I don't read a streetsign that you didn't ask me to read, don't insult my eyesight. I know my vision is poor; I've worn glasses since I was seven. Just what are you hoping to accomplish my insulting me? Does it make you feel like a bigger person?
Last year, you told me that you wanted to lose 50 pounds, and I agreed to support you in that. Since then, you have gained 30 pounds. Here's a hint: the good of the oatmeal gets cancelled out by the seven Oreos you put on top of it.
You've asked me why I don't get angry when you get home late, or don't call. Because then I would be angry all the time! Here's a typical evening:
5 p.m. What time should we expect you home?
Not late, about 7:15.
Should I make dinner?
7:45 p.m. Hey, are you okay?
Yeah, I'm still at the office. I should be home about 9. Don't wait dinner for me.
9 p.m. You call to say you're on your way home. Sorry.
10:15 You arrive at home.
Yet when you actually get home early, you're upset that dinner isn't on the table! I'm not a very good cook anyway, having a window of 3 to 4 hours to have it ready to serve is pretty darn impossible.
I adore you. When I think of anything happening to the
"us" that is, I have panic attacks. You put up with my
moodiness and you give the best hugs. You were there
when things went horribly wrong in my life and I had
the worst year I've ever had.
I am really, truly, hurt by the sheer lack of effort
you put into anything that you know is important to
me. I spent six months planning your birthday, because
no one ever really made an attempt for you and I
thought it would be nice. I did it because I love you
and I wanted you to have a good birthday for a change.
So it really, really hurts me that you didn't do
anything at all for mine when you know what a big deal
birthdays are for me. I know things are tight, but
would it have killed you to buy me a card or put up
the decorations you know are in the house or make a
cake from the ingredients we have on hand? I know you
were sick, but does that mean you couldn't be bothered
to do the dishes from the dinner I ended up cooking on
my birthday? They sat there for three days, for
heaven's sake, and the kitchen isn't big enough for
that. When I finally did them, you asked me why I was
We've been together for three years. This isn't new
stuff, babe. If I cook, you're supposed to do the
dishes. That's the agreement. We're supposed to make
an effort for each other and try to make each other
feel good. So it's very hard for me that the times
I've really needed you this year, I haven't had you
You couldn't come with me when my Grandmother died,
and I understood why. You had to work when I threw a
big party to celebrate a major milestone in my life,
and I understood 'cos I know how tight money's been
for you this year. You didn't do anything for my
birthday, and I tried to not be upset because I know
they're not a big deal for you.
When I got fired from my job for no real reason, I
wanted your support and needed help with the household
bills, which I had been covering in full. And not only
haven't you done that, but you haven't helped with the
housework at all, either and I still got stiffed on my
birthday. So here's my problem: I'm not getting the
emotional, financial, or physical support and help I
need. So explain to me why I'm holding on to the fact
that I love you?
Because I do. And I want this to work. I really,
really do - more than anything I've wanted before. But
I need to get something back from you in return. I
want some kind of reciprocity - when I work hard for
you, I expect you to work hard back. That's how this
is supposed to work. This isn't a notice that I'm
leaving you, but I'm getting really tired of feeling
so low on your list of priorities and obligations.
The reason I said I wanted to "have our own family celebration" on Christmas is because I do not want to spend Christmas with your mother. She ruins Christmas for me. I can't handle her "poor me" pouting. Not on Christmas. I handle it the rest of the time because I have to. Please let me have a happy Christmas.
I am perfectly ok with going to your dad's for Christmas. Your dad and step-mom are far more pleasant and their house isn't a disgusting hell hole like your mother's.
I like your step-mom more than your mom. I don't like your mom at all.
It pisses me off when no one in your family will call your mom out when you all KNOW she is lying and trying to be manipulative.
I also don't like one of your sisters. I hacked into her email account and that is how I knew so much about what was going on in her life.
I fake all of my orgasms that 'occur' during sex. It is all an act. Sorry. The ones during foreplay are the only ones that are real. I love you so much that I will never tell you that.
m sorry but I don't love you--not in the way I should. I think all those years of abuse from you, bitterness, and resentment (from both of us) are just too much to surpass. I'm trying, I am. I want to, believe me. It would make life so much easier, so much better. Honestly, I don't know if you really, truly love me either or just think you do because you think you should. So we try...but I feel that there's something missing, something that trying and wanting just doesn't fill. Maybe some day, some year, it will be there.
This afternoon you led me to the couch and held me as I cried and talked. You actually listened to me - for the first time in I can't tell you how long. You apologized, even as I told you that you were not responsible for my feelings. You rubbed my hair and told me everything will be all right and that we will get through this. Those are the moments that I fall in love with you again. Those are the moments that I can't imagine living my life without you in it.
We have, quite possibly, the best baby ever. But caring for our child is not all sweetness and light. I need a break sometimes. I did not sign up to be a single parent.
To my darling hubby:
You have recently found a new job. And I’m so happy. I can’t wait for you to leave the job you currently have. Ever since you’ve been looking for/found the new position, you have been more energetic, cheerful, and helpful. You don’t lay in bed until 4 p.m. on weekend days anymore. You don’t spend hours upon hours immersed in Video poker or on the couch watching movies. You want to have sex again.
For most of our 10-year relationship, you have worked 60-80 hours a week at a soul-sucking company. They have sucked the love and life out of you and our marriage. You traveled so much that at one point our son no longer thought you lived with us. We were in marriage counseling as are many of the employees at your current work.
We both spent a lot of time being angry. You didn’t feel supported by me in your job and I didn’t feel supported by you. How could I give support when I felt utterly alone and unloved? How could I support you in a job that kept you constantly stressed and emotionally distant?
I hope your new job turns out to be a wonderful thing for you, your career and us as a family. I hope it provides the challenge you’ve been sorely lacking. And I am here to support you every step of the way – especially after meeting with the partners of the firm and finding out from the other wives that the company is family-friendly.
I am so very happy you came to your senses and finally told your current bosses you wanted out of a partnership with them. I am so happy you have finally chosen our son and myself over your job. I am so happy you seem at peace and content. I am happy for you. And us.
It feels wonderful to be in love with you again. It feels wonderful to fully trust you, to WANT to support you and to be your best friend again. I’ve missed you.