He is off to work. I so desperately would like to go back to (or even move forward to) a time where I don’t feel so…smothered. I know part, if not most, of my unhappiness is from letting my depression get the better of me. But if he’s not at work, he’s joined to my hip. Unless it’s Game Day, then he’s back and forth between the TV and the computer to check on his fantasy score.
The day of our second full blown argument, he told me that I was “giving up” by doing this. Even though I haven’t come to a decision yet, he believes that just because I even thought of an option that doesn’t include staying at this house means that I am giving up on my relationship, our family. He uses the word family a lot. Like he wants to hold it over my head that I chose to be with him and try to build a life together with him. He told me he chose me three times over: when we started dating, when I cheated on him the first time, and when I cheated on him the second time. For someone who forgives me, he sure brings it up a lot. He says he wants me to be the strong woman I was when we met. Even if I gathered all my strength and built up my self worth, would it matter? If all he can see is that “crazy cheating whore”, why should I try to make myself better? I want to believe that we are going to be able to put this past us, but I don’t know if he can. And how are we to grow stronger if we can’t trust each other? I know, I know. I fucked that up for myself, but it’s not like I’ve been able to trust him to monitor his alcohol intake. I am in no way making excuses for myself, but my eyes wander when my heart is being broken by the one to give all my love to. I don’t know when this impulse climbed its way into my mentality, but it’s such a shitty thing to do. I guess after my ex I decided I was done with the bullshit. You hurt me, I hurt you. My remorse comes later in a strong way. Kinda like yours comes the morning after a heavy binge and you just spent multiple hours putting me way down.
I don’t want us to walk on eggshells around each other. I don’t want him to feel like he’s got to keep a tight grip on me. I don’t want him grabbing my phone out of my hand like he has the right to go through it to see if I’ve been the slut he already believes I am.
Because God forbid I actually be sick like I’ve been trying to tell you for the past 3 years.