Our relationship and marriage started off almost 8 years ago today and I'm in need of something new. I love you but hate to be around you. There is just something about the way you treat me that has caused me to start having these feelings. I pretend I'm doing other things just to not be around you. Now the end is coming I'm afraid. The last time we had sex because it sure wasn't making love I felt nothing. I was numb to everything. I didn't enjoy it I won't even lie. After you finished you didn't even ask me if I was done you just rolled over and went to sleep like I wasn't even there. Well now I'm taking a stand. I've bought my own personal sex toy and I must say it has out performed you in the bedroom numerous times. Does this make you wonder that a silicon vibrator is better in bed then you are. It's sad. You have already lost me and every part of me. Now it's time I should tell you to go and move along. Maybe I'll tell you on Christmas.
I haven't posted to TWC before, although I've spent longer than I should have, at work, reading through the posts and identifying with many!
I have done something so ridiculous, so utterly not like me and so amazingly dangerous and stupid that despite the fact I know I did it I can't believe myself.
For a long time, well over a year, the husband and I have been talking about separating. We'd had a baby and suddenly, the usual cracks just started to gape and the distances between us got wider and it just didn't seem worth it. I couldn't remember what it was like to be first married, although I was sure it had been wonderful; but the feelings escaped me completely. We were tied up in footling minutiae and sniping at each other, scoring points and being generally horrid. I was more horrid than him.
For a very long time indeed I've had a male friend who had also been a sometime lover before I was married - definitely unfinished business. For some reason I have never yet been able to explain to myself I let this man seduce me by email, really believed what he was saying to me, actively participated in making a fool of myself in print, and then, god help me, met up with him and had sex.
Suddenly, the moment I got home, I realised with horror what I'd done and what I had to lose. A husband who loves me and understands me, someone who doesn't get mad or shut himself off or make himself emotionally unavailable, someone who doesn't play mind games. Someone who is actually THERE, at home and there for me. I stood to lose my child, at least for half the time. I stood to lose my home, which we've worked so hard for and at, and which is so much more than a house. My garden.
I guess I could have avoided the issue and tried to forget it - I'm not built like that. Come what may, admitting the crime means at least you care enough to take the flak. I did admit the crime, and it was terrible... days of talking and crying and knowing that the man I married was bitterly disappointed in me and that he would never look at me the same way again. That's hard to live with. Every day I wake up feeling as though there was something terrible that I've forgotten - and then I remember that there is. I am an adultress.
My thoughts constantly turn back to 'why?'. Why go there at all? Why indulge in this pseudo-spiritual email nonsense? Why let this person fool and bamboozle me again after all the times they've done it before? Why believe in them, when they so patently don't believe in me? What was I hoping to gain? I knew this person would never leave their parter for me - there was no chance at all. Was that even what I wanted?
All I can think was, it was like a suicide. I threw myself off the bridge, under the car, whatever; in the second or two before impact I suddenly changed my mind because the important things suddenly jumped into focus. It's not a very good explanation I know. But it's all I can come up with.
I am now struggling to get back to some semblance of normality, shaking with disbelief that I've been offered a chance to continue being married, straining to think of things that will show how much I care, how much I cared but didn't show it. Trying so hard to keep the petty, small-minded, pointless badgering inside. I don't need to treat this man among men that way - in the end, he's proved himself the spiritual and emotional equal of anyone else on the planet; he's proved he has a generous, forgiving and loving nature, and he's proved he loves me.
Just need another 75 or 80 years now to try and make up for even one iota of this stupid, sordid, pathetic, self-inflicted mess. I'll do it or die trying.
My days are spent at a computer engaged in technical writing, so I am not as verbal or eloquent about my feelings as you are. When I do have something sweet to say, I wish you'd stop interrupting me with your own compliments. They're lovely sentiments, but they derail my train of thoughts and I end up irritated. Just listen and give me a kiss when I'm done.
When I went away a few months ago to visit my girlfriend, I did. But I spent all of the nights with another man in my hotel room. It wasn't what I'd planned on. I'd talked to him some before, there were certainly sexual undertones, but I never dreamed either of us would cross that line. We didn't sleep together, but we came awfully close. He took me to dinner. He paid my taxi fare. He made me feel beautiful, sexy and absolutely like the only woman in the room.
And I realized on my way home that I didn't feel bad for lying in his arms, and not yours. I realized that this man made me feel inheritantly female. And you stopped after our child was born. You don't like the way I look. You tell me if I would only lose this or that, change this or that, you'd want to sleep with me again.
This man ran his hands all over my body, past the imperfections, and made my world spin madly around.
He is asking me to fly back out, but I am refusing.
I still want that feeling with you.
I love you more than I can express. I can't imagine my life without
you. I love the life we have. I love that we have a beautiful 3
month old son. I love that you only want me to be happy and want to
do anything in your power to make me happy even though I am suffering
from postpartum depression. I love that you work hard everyday to
allow me to be a stay at home mom. I love you that you think I am
sexy even though I don't feel like it. I love that I feel safe
with you. I love that my friends are jealous of me because I have a
husband isn't afraid to show his love for me. I am one of the
luckiest women I know. I love you, My love biscuit.
I think I might be pregnant.
I already know what you will say if I am. My answer is already no. If I am pregnant, we will be having this baby, so I wish I could tell you somehow to not even bother asking.
I cannot believe how much you disrespected me in front of my coworkers. Every time you were telling me to shut up I would look up and someone would be staring at us and then give us an awkward smile. It was embarrassing, I was having a good time and you ruined it. YOU ASS, I work all year long and don't ever get a raise or a bonus or even a thank you, except for the Christmas party, and you turned it into treat me like shit night. You're an ass.
Given the opportunity, I will have a Lesbian experience. I love you. I love being with a man. But, I can't help but think that I am missing out on something by not exploring my Bi curiosity.
I really, really hate you. You are putting nails in the coffin of our marriage, one by one, slowly but surely. Do you not see how selfish you are? Do you not notice that I do nothing extra for you anymore, when I used to enjoy doing so many things for you, going out of my way to be nice and helpful to you. It's not just because I'm a bitch, it's because I'm sick and tired of doing for you and doing for you and getting nothing in return.
It's a shame that your job, hell, everything is more important to you than your family. You can't put our family or me first and it's sad. You're going to be one lonely guy and it's going to be all of your own doing. Your job is sucking you dry and you're letting it happen. The place would survive without you being there putting in all the long hours that you do, that amazingly you don't get paid for, as you're salaried and get no comp time.
I have so very little respect for you. Your kids know how you are and contrary to what you think, I don't talk bad about you to them. They can see how you are, how you have no time for them and don't want to spend time with them ever. Sad.
There's a reason it's called "work". If it were fun, we'd pay THEM to do it. I'm sick of hearing you complain about it.