Love & Lies, Lies & Love – Part 2

I wish I could combine my two blogs.  I feel like anyone reading Love & Lies needs to know my background.  How I came to this place, the bumps and bruises I got along the way and how the choices I made helped form the person I am. If you are interested its on WordPress, howdoilife.net. Love & Lies is my secret spot.  Where I can throw it all out. I still have not shared some of my deepest secrets, my biggest regrets.  It’s hard to lay it all out, to show my ugly truth, and to be judged by others.  Even though I have no fucking idea who is reading this, you will still judge me.  I would do the same.  You will come to a conclusion about me.  Maybe it’s right, maybe it’s not.  Why do I care so much about what others think?  Probably because I’m human.  

So, here it is.  I cheated.  I CHEATED. I will not make excuses.  I did it knowingly, willingly, consciously.  I will not make excuses.  I often wonder if he ever cheated.  Maybe because it would make me fell better in some fucked up way.  I think he knew it.  Not every time, but at least twice.  Once a long time ago and again very recently.  He never approached me, never asked any questions.  He never wanted the confrontation, the fight, the hurt.  During one of our recent rough (very rough) patches, I asked him to sit down and talk to me.  Again, I talked.  He did not.  I told him to ask me anything he wanted to, and I would tell him the truth, no matter what.  He said he didn’t know what to ask me, he didn’t have any questions and the conversation stopped.   Things eventually went back to our “normal”.  But here we are again.  I am waiting for him to break; he is waiting for me to break.  This is the longest I have gone without caving or breaking.  We exist in a house.  There is no communication, there is no loving feeling, no intimacy, no touching.  There is tension, sadness, fear, confusion, regret, disbelief.  But we keep doing it day after day.  

Another weekend is looming.  Two full days of playing thedance of avoidance.  Trying not to touch while walking through the same room.  What happens if we accidentally touch?  Will it burn?  Will it sting?  Will it force us to look into each other’s eyes? Force us to feel the distance that is between us?  The distance that grows each day.  

About a week ago I told him if he wants to be with me, wants me – he needs to talk to me and reach for me.  That has not happened.  And I honestly don’t feel that it will happen.  We will continue living on the surface until one of us eventually sinks and drowns.  It will be too late; it is probably too late already.  He will never admit that it’s over.  I feel it is.  Wounds too deep to scab over.  

FUCK

My walls

Each day my walls grow stronger, taller, impenetrable; my walls are my power

Reinforced by the hurt, the sadness, the loneliness, the fear

My walls keep me safe; they keep my heart safe

Safe from feeling too much, safe from giving too much, safe from caring too much

My walls make me a cold-hearted bitch

Walls help me pretend, help me keep going, help me disappear

Behind my walls I can show you want I want you to see; not what is really me

I dare you to get inside my walls

Who gets the pictures?

I wake up at night with the strangest thoughts running through my head.  Who gets the family photo albums?  Who gets the art and sentimental things we bought together?  Do they just get packed away?  Do the kids take them?  Do you want them?  Since we don’t talk, I don’t have those answers.  Well to be clear, I talk, and you do not respond.  And even I have stopped talking.  Doesn’t mean I stopped caring, doesn’t mean I’m not hurting or needing to talk.  I just can’t take another “I don’t know” as an answer.  Or another blank stare either at me or the ground.  Why can’t you look at me? Why can’t you tell me what is in your head?  If I ask you, the response I get will be either I don’t know or nothing.  We are at a point where the end of a 35+ year relationship and a 30 (almost 31) year marriage is looming over our heads.  And you are thinking of nothing?  Not a fucking thing?  You are okay with one of us just walking out the door and never looking back?  Wow.  

I guess it goes back to control.  You control our communication by not communicating.  You control your emotions by not touching me.  I’m sad, lonely, depressed – are you?  Are you waiting?  Waiting for me to break?  Waiting for me to make it all better, again?  For the 100th time in our relationship.  Waiting for me to accept, again, you not communicating with me?  Waiting for things to go back to “normal”?  I can’t do it again.  I can’t.  I won’t.  Or will I?  Do I have the strength to end the cycle?  Do I have the strength to destroy a family?  Do I have the strength to be selfish?  Is it being selfish?  Fuck.  

Who has the step-by-step book on how to end a marriage successfully and painlessly? In my dreams, right? There is no such thing.

So, I ask, again, who gets the pictures?

Love & Lies – Part 1

Has it always been like this? Or did we become this? I think we became this. Our love was real, our love grew a family, created a home for that family and provided safety for us. Our love changed, it always does – right? Maybe it’s my feeling and you would not agree if you read this. I don’t know, because even if you did read this you still wouldn’t open up and talk to me. That makes me sad. That has made me sad for over 30 years.

I know we are both guilty in the….let’s say manipulation of our relationship over the years. I would beg you to talk to me, you would say nothing is wrong and we don’t need to change or talk, I would be silent for a time and slowly give in and retreat to what was comfortable. I tried to get you to talk by guilting you. You controlled the situation by not talking. I never realized that before. And I thought I was the controlling one in the relationship. Silly me or smart you, I’m not sure which it is.

Were we also so different? I don’t think so. We found each other at time when we each were extremely vulnerable – high school. I was searching for love and acceptance. I think you were as well. We gave each other what we needed and wanted; what we never had before.

We both grew up in extremely dysfunctional families. No one can argue about that. We both brought that dysfunction into our relationship. I manipulated in the same way my mom manipulated me. You stayed quiet and refused to engage in any fight or conversation, the way you saw your dad deal with your mom.

We fell in love. We got married. We bought a house, turned it into our home and brought our babies to that home. I made bad decisions early in our marriage that you never knew about. At least I don’t think you knew about. There are times I wonder if you knew and just never said anything. Because it was easier that way. No conflict.

We both worked. We took on the roles of husband and wife. We did what was expected. Outside pressures took a toll on our relationship. But we never talked about it. We just kept going. Keeping all the problems and pressures packed away to be used when the next “thing” happened. I would unpack the hurt and throw it at you. Telling you all the things YOU did wrong that I didn’t like. I wanted you to throw the hurt back at me, fight with me, fight for me. You never did that.

I started to pretend. Pretend everything was fine. Pretend it was true love. Pretend we were the perfect family. I don’t know if the kids noticed anything as they were growing up or not. We never had drag out, knock down fights. Ha – we would have had to actually talk to have a fight.

Pretending became a way of life for me. I pretended at home, I pretended with extended family and I pretended at work. It was just easier that way. I was so good at pretending I think I convinced myself I was happy. I continued to make bad decisions. Decisions that I now realize had everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.

I think that is enough for now. Part 1 isn’t finished, but I am emotionally exhausted.