Purgatory

After our long talk the other night, he left to go out of town for 2 days.  He has been back since Thursday but things for me have been awkward.  I do not think he notices but maybe.  I told him long ago that I would never use the "D" word (divorce) as a threat.  If I said it, it would be because I had come to a point where I was finished.  I know he didn't use this word.  But he said we were over.  He went on to talk about where to go, what to do next.  A part of me died...... another part.

We have an apt set for next Wednesday to see his counselor.  Every day closer brings only more anxiety.  I am starting to believe none of this has to do with PTSD.  He has told me for some time that he cannot feel about me as he once did.  That things in our past are just too much for him to move beyond.  I have a hard time understanding this.  He asked me to forgive him for sleeping with his secretary.  It has taken some time, but I have.  Why can he not forgive me?   I have tolerated his behavior because I have allowed myself to believe I deserve this. My counselor tells me that no one deserves this.

I think he is right.  I think I have been right............... I am simply not what he wants.  I cannot make him love me........not the way a husband should love his wife.  I have this awful feeling that Wednesday will be the end.  I feel like I am awaiting a trial..........one where if found guilty, the penalty is the death of my marriage.

Over

After being rejected last night, we really didn't speak any more.  I pretended to watch TV and he was on his laptop.  Around 9:30, I decided it was bed time.  I kissed M and hugged her.  Her dad had already gone outside to smoke.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face.  As I started to turn out the light, I reminded myself that it is never a good idea to go to bed mad.  I walked outside, kissed him on his forehead and told him I loved him.
But when I got back to the room, I was still mad.  I put my sweats back on and walked back outside again.
Sitting next him, I asked, "Why".

This one word sparked a 2 hour conversation, more painful and more honest than I think we have ever had in 13 years of marriage.  But it spiraled so far in the wrong direction that at one point he told me it was over. We were over.  He started asking me how we were going to tell M.  What we were going to do about her and my grandmother (who lives with us).  I just kept saying I didn't know.  I cried so hard that at times I couldn't find my voice.

There were lulls in the conversation when neither of us would say anything.  He started to open up about his meeting with the counselor.  He told me a lot of things I did't want to hear.  Things that hurt.  Much of what was said I could not begin to recant, as my state of mind at the time was anything but clear.  I just kept hearing the word "over".

When I decided the conversation was more than I could handle, I asked him one last time before I got up to go inside, "Are you sure this is what you want?"
He paused and then replied that he would like for both of us to go see his counselor.
When I agreed, he told me that he does still love me.  He referred to me as his best friend and started telling me everything he still loved and respected about me.  He even told me that I was beautiful and had a "smokin hot body".  Which made me laugh.  I have wanted to hear these words from him for so long.

I am cautiously hopeful about this meeting.  But he has already said it once.  And after that one time, it comes much more easily.  And he could decide at any time that we are "Over."

I hate this word.
At work, "no" is where negotiation begins.
At home, it's where everything ends.

Earlier this evening, he wanted me to give up my seat on the couch.  I was sitting on his side.  I got up but then he made some crack about always getting his way.  I smiled broadly, took a sip of my wine and sat back down.

"But you always say, if its funny, then its ok."
"Yes, but I never said there wouldn't be consequences."

Again, I am smiling.  He feigns hurt feelings but resigns himself to other side of the couch.  For a few moments he complains.  I offer terms........... our daughter is watching TV with us so I txt him:

"I get sex.....you get your side back."

He smiles but says nothing.

"Tonight"

This time he shakes his head "no".

My heart sinks.  This is no longer light hearted fun, now its just painful.

I text again "Why?"

He won't look at me but speaks, "This is not a conversation we can have now."

I look over at our daughter who is oblivious.  He is right............ but it doesn't make me feel any better.
The answer is still "no".  The reason doesn't fucking matter.

Choices

"So you can stay and accept him for who he is.  Or... You can leave."
The kleenex in my hand is completely damp and marked with mascara.  The tears continue to fall as I carefully fold, unfold and refold the tissue.  I cannot look at her and the silence in the room is almost deafening.

"I'm not ready to make that decision."
"Then don't."

I gently lay the tissue next to me on the couch and pull another.  I still cannot look at her.  I dab my eyes but cannot make the tears stop and am afraid if I open my mouth the speak, the sobs I am so desperately trying to hold back, will overwhelm me.

"Can you learn to accept him as he is?  Do you think you should have to?"

This hurts.  I suddenly to not want to be in this place.  I do not want to talk about this anymore.  I place another tissue next to me on the couch and realize there are many more than I recall placing there.  Yet the tears do not stop.  I take a deep breath and reach for another.

"Maybe I should change what I consider to be 'affection'."
"I was just going to suggest that."

Can I do this?  Should I have to?

"I think................I think widows get closure.  For those of us............ whose husband's come back..... we don't get that.  We don't morn like we should.  The man I loved.............the man who loved me....... he never came back."

I pause to keep from breaking down.

"You need to grieve and I don't think you ever have.  Even now, you can't fully let go."

I look down at the growing pile of tissues next to me and cannot imagine the pain a choice like this could cause.  The damage it could do.

"You're Killing Me"

"I'm not killing you."
Really?  So this distance bullshit is all in my head.  The fact that you won't touch me, is purely my imagination.
"I'm sorry."
Yeah, you've said that.
I am so starved for affection.
So wanton.
So unsatisfied.
And you do not even notice.
I am invisible.
I am less than.............
Less.............than.........
Just less.
Less than notable.
Less than a wife.
Less than a lover.
Less than a friend.
Less than.......... less than.
Why can I not make you see?
Make you notice me?
Make you want me?
Make me worthy?
Why can I not............
Not.....
You are killing me.
Killing me softly.
Killing my self worth.
My soul.
Breaking my heart.
Killing what I worked so hard to become.
Killing me.
Killing us.