One of the reasons I want you to talk or moan or make some kind of noise during sex is because I need reassurance that you are YOU—my husband. I need to be reminded that you are not the man who abused me. Over the past 2 years, I’ve secretly been having flashbacks to the abuse during sex. I’m not quite sure why. The abuse was 20 years ago and I hadn’t had a problem with it at all until fairly recently. I’ve gotten pretty good at reminding myself in that moment that I’m with someone I love and trust. Usually, I can let it go once I recognize what’s going on. I haven’t told you because I already have a stronger libido than you. So I don’t want you shying away from sex even more because you worry that I’m being reminded of him. I want you to talk in part because your voice reminds me that you are you. You are safe. But you just won’t say a word. Why is it so difficult to freaking talk? I don’t want to have to rehash my abuse story yet again. Why can’t you just speak or moan or something simply because I’ve made it clear I want/need it? I’m not asking for a lot. Something as simple as moaning during sex can help keep me in the moment. I don’t understand why you won’t do it.
I am flabbergasted.I have the most wonderful
husband.He is everything any woman would want in a
man.He actually knows how to run the washing
machine,dryer,vacuum and pretty much anything else in
the house.He is my best friend,lover and mechanic all
rolled into one.He drinks a little but I can
understand that...I am no longer complaining after
checking out this site....
People say that love hits you right when you're not looking for it.
I shut myself off because I have dealt with enough heartbreak. I've selflessly given myself to love over and over again, and each and every time love has given me the cold shoulder.
My relationships have all ended shiteously. I've given up. There are only so many times that you can try only to have yourself fail. To know that there's no one else to pick you up and dust you off. To know that you and you alone did this to yourself. To know that your heart is becoming harder and harder to piece together because it's broken so many times before.
There's only so many times that I can allow myself to be hurt. That is why I cannot dive in and be with you. You'll leave in September and I'll be alone and eventually you'll call and tell me that it's over. I'm not being pessimistic, I'm being realistic. You will meet so many people when you're gone and I'll be standing here trying not to think about you.
I admit that I do care about you. I like you very much. My friends say that it's love, but then again, my friends say a lot of things.
I wish that I could throw caution to the wind like I used to and allow myself to be held in your arms and to give into the temptation to kiss those lips.
But I can't, anymore. I've been there and I've done that and I know how it turns out. I will not allow myself to be hurt-especially by you.
I can't let you become yet another villain in my complex history. I'd rather you be the friend who could've been something more. The friend who knew better than to stay in one place. The friend who truly made something of himself and did something with his life.
So, however tempting your offer may be, I cannot accept it.
Forget what could've been. Forget that we have a lot in common. Forget that we say the same things at the same time and that we love to argue with each other and playfully call each other names. Forget the time when we spent the day together, just talking and lying in the grass watching the clouds go by. Forget that you admitted that you love me.
Those memories won't serve any of us any good.
I met someone on the internet a couple of months ago and we're now having an affair. It's not that emotional, it's not that involved...but it's intense and it's great. He's not smarter than you, he's not funnier than you....but his body is incredible and he makes me feel like a goddess. I'll end it at some point....but not for now...because he's giving me what you seem to not care about anymore...passion and tenderness...and a good lay.
When I met u I never wanted to go out with u because I just came out of a harsh divorce. You constantly called me and insisted that we go out. I finally agreed. I had the time of my life dating u. U were my everything. U gave me a reason to smile again. Not a day went by u didn't profess your love to me. Not a day went by without u wanting to spend time with me. I fell so much in love with u. U insisted that i move in with u. I did,then everything changed. I sold my first car i had n bought a new car for u when yours crashed. Just so u would have. I didn't mind traveling through sun or rain to get to work. I gave up my home and family just to be with u. U lost your job and I still stood by you. Paying all the bills, taking care of your daughter while u lied to me telling me you were looking for a job when in truth u were joyriding in the car I bought u with other women.
Taking them out and having the time of your life and somehow you could never have time for me or your own daughter. Endless lies you told me when you would disappear night after night for hours with only one excuse"I was with my friends". When you finally got a job, the thoughtless insults started. When you thought you could stand on your own and had no use for me anymore you had the nerve to tell me to leave and its all my fault. Night upon night I would cry because you hurt me so much. I was a fool to trust you. To give up everything I had for you. Now I have nothing. I'm strong and I will survive this even though I still live with the pain. I regret ever meeting you, however it taught me a valuable lesson about love and trust.I hate you so much for hurting me. I'm a good person wit a good heart and you took advantage of that.Every tear that I cried rests upon you and I know one day you will reap what you sow.
We don't always have the greatest 'go' of things - we definitely have our share of 'fun' arguments...
I don't always like you or myself...
but I love you always. Thank you for the roses and lime soda.
Today is our 8 year anniversary...sometimes I hate you.
Thank you for being happy that my mom is here visiting. Thank you for giving us some time to spend together. Thank you for not being resentful of all her little projects. Thank you for liking her.
I am still a little pissed off at you. A month later and the breakup is still a little bit raw. However, I have come to the place where I can finally say “Thank you.” I wanted you to be “the one.” You weren’t. That is not any more your fault than it is mine. I know we were meant to be, we just weren’t meant to be forever. You were the perfect first boyfriend after my divorce. You helped me to rebuild my shattered ego and I will always be grateful. You left me better than you found me and I hope you feel the same about my impact on you. My memories of our time are bittersweet, but the bitter is fading even after this short time. You are a wonderful man and I will always think of you as one of the best people I have ever known. I hope you find what you are looking for in life. You deserve the best. I hope we can someday be friends…well, we may want to wait another few months to let me (and I imagine you too) finish getting over this part. I hope that someday our paths will cross again and we can embrace each other remembering only the good times. There were a lot of them. Go with God, Sweetheart.
I found your blog today for a good reason. I feel like I am going crazy and falling into the cracks of a out of control train wreck. I have a difficult time still saying that train wreck is my life. Today I found out the domestic violence case against my soon to be ex-husband is going to be dismissed. It would have been dismissed today, if my victim’s advocate had not been there to get the new DA on the case to continue the trial one more time. The old DA would not dismiss the case, was pressing on, even though I asked for it to be dropped. The new guy, who has never spoken to me, decided he can not prove the case. I agree with the new guy, this fight was a minor one for us. He ran through the house breaking our pictures frames, ripping our family photos, then when I tried to stop him he threw me down, I still continued to go after him for some stupid reason, for the stupid pictures, that matter nothing at all, my six year old boy was chasing us around the whole time. What the fuck is that matter with me. I knew he would not calm down, so I called the police and they arrested him. They were not going to, even though it is a law, but that is good they can be human beings and make autonomous decisions. I was ok, with him just leaving, and I went to let my kids back into our crazy world and let them know the police were only just there to help us and not scary. On my way back with my boy, the cops said sorry, things had changed and could I send the kids back to the neighbors. My husband started telling the cops how big I am, look at her shoulders, she can take care of herself…..this is all according to the policeman, that told me to bring the kids back to my neighbors because he was going to arrest him, changed his mind, what kind of pussy says that, is what the police man told me he unofficially thought (kind of strange in itself that he felt telling me that was appropriate, but I did appreciate it at the time)…..so that was the first, in about three times, that the police have been called to our house and they actually took him away. I am 5’7” and 155 lbs. He is 6’4”, 210 lbs. I have been drawn into his game before though, it is has been way worse than the particular day he was arrested. It was tough, that day, but there were worse, choking, shoving to the ground, while holding my children, our children, spitting on me, throwing 2 x4s, hammers, televisions, kicking, throwing rocks, leaving me stranded places with no money, no phone, and no sing of him, calling me a cunt, thinking nothing of doing this in front of my mother, letting us down time and time again, saying I love you, my wife, my heart, my soul, I would do anything for you (and I figured out to me too)…you bitch. Where was my backbone for the last nine years (to be fair, it began 8 years ago, when we moved in together and had a planned pregnancy with our son). I am strong, beautiful, intelligent, caring, how the hell did I get wrapped up in acting like that, fighting back, allowing the fighting to go on, and on, and on. Now, I filed for divorce, I love him, I am so weak, I love him for the good person he is outside of this sickness. Though I can not explain even half of the awfulness, the mean spirited, disrespectful behavior, I grieve for my marriage and sometimes even wish I was still with him and things were different, even though I am scared of him and his unpredictability, if my kids were not around, I would be with him. Am I too damaged to see why I would still feel this love, I think I know myself, am self confident, am beautiful, sexy, loving, a good mother. Geez, the weight of things is sometimes so hard to take. I am tired and wait for each moment I fall upon that is something that makes things lighter. I feal cheated and stupid and furious and even stupider (and I know that is not a word). I have until Thursday now to be under the protection of the law and to make the decisions I need to make to most benefit my family. I pray that I make the right ones.