Back To The BeginningI posted this in the wrong spot initially.
My husband and I met in college . I actually didn't think I'd ever date him. 1) Because he was a good friend. 2) I was dating someone else at the time. 3) Because he was good looking, and good looking guys and I were always trouble.
Somewhere along the way, we started hanging out more. I ended up leaving the guy I was with at the time (not because of my now husband, but because I thought he was cheating, which I will get to later) and started dating him. It was a pretty good relationship in the first few months, until I found out he had a **** addiction. This wouldn't have bothered me if we could have watched together or at the very least he not do it while I was around. I'm a pretty sexual person. I enjoy it. I'm fun and experimental. It hurt knowing that instead of having a real human being, he would rather go off and watch some fake cyber ******. I could swallow that part, but then he cut me off emotionally - didn't even want to talk that much anymore.
Instead of breaking up though, I decided to have my needs met elsewhere. So, I started talking with my ex again. Going back, I thought he had been cheating on me with a good friend of mine, and when I found out he'd been sleeping over at her place, I was pretty damn sure of it. However, she confessed to me that they hadn't. He'd been over there trying to keep her from coming on to me. Turns out she played both fields and was getting the wrong message from our friendship.
So, it turns out my ex was faithful while my current guy is not. I laugh at the irony, but I'm still invested in the relationship so I try my best. We talk. I explain how his **** problem is making me feel inadequate, unattractive, and if he'd rather have his **** than me just let me know. We can be friends. Hell, we could have been friends with benefits as far as I was concerned. He said he wanted to try. I tell him fine, let's work things out. I'm in love and young, it's what kids do instead of walking away.
Everything is fine until he goes and does it again. And again. And again. Each time promising me he's going to stop. Each time begging me to stay. Each time cutting a piece of my heart, trust, and self worth away. After about the fourth or fifth time, I'm tired of crying over him. I can't leave him because he threatens to kill himself. I decide I'll stay until he's ready to stand on his own two feet, but I'm not taking anymore of the pain. I can be cold if I want to.
For each time my guy wanted to go off on a **** watching binge while locking me out emotionally, I went out and screwed my ex.
Did I feel guilty? Actually, yes. I did. Because despite trying to make myself numb to what he did, it still hurt. I loved him. I wanted him to love me to. He said he did. He said a lot of things and did a lot of things to show his love. But time and again, he showed me I wasn't enough and our love wasn't enough to satisfy. No, it wasn't right for me to go off with my ex and lead him on. I know I was terrible for doing it. I started to really hate myself. So I left.
I moved to another city for 8 months. I stayed in contact with both my ex and my guy. I was just friends with both. My guy changed a lot. He went without his **** thing for about 6 months of that time. Asked me to come back. I still loved him a lot. I wanted to be with him. I just didn't trust him. Looking back, this was the point that despite my hope and love for him, I should have walked away. But I didn't. I went with him, thinking that the happiness I felt with him would last because of the strength of our love. Kids are stupid that way.
We go along our merry way. Everything is going fine. We're engaged. We're happy. My trust is almost completely restored. And he goes and does the same thing. Once more, I feel like I'm some ugly prude who can never satisfy this man, but in my mind I know better.
I'm not being conceited either. There's been plenty of men who wanted to be in my pants. I know I'm fun in the sack. A lot of that comes from just enjoying it as much as I do. I want it to feel good for both parties. Who doesn't? I'm an open person. I told him if wants to bring someone else in, by all means, let's try it. That's still better than going to a computer and showing me that my effort means nothing. At least I could try to compete with another woman. How do I compete with something that doesn't/can't exist in the real world? We go through the whole thing one more time.
Don't go. I need you. Please, I promise it won't happen again.
Why should I believe you?
Because I love you. You love me too, I know you do.
And because I'm an idiot, yeah, I go back yet again. My trust pretty much non-existent, but my heart apparently willing to go another 10 rounds.
During all of this, my ex is still hanging around like a shark in bloody water. Not all of it his fault. I go to him when I can't take things anymore. We were friends too before dating. I stopped sharing his bed before I moved for the 8 months and didn't go back. Yeah...been tempted to, especially when I'm feeling low after being shoved away. But I haven't actually slept with him again, and to me, that is something. I prove to myself you don't have to give into a craving or temptation. The problem is, my ex always knows just what to say to get under my skin. As much as I can't seem to leave my guy. I can't stop needing my ex as a friend to lean on either.
For all the crap we put each other through, my ex and I are honest with each other. Brutally so. It's like we make up for the daily lies people tell each other every day. But we both know we can't be together. That's like putting two pirañas in the same take. We'd eat each other alive. And while fun as parts of it would be, the rest would be worse than what I go through with my guy.
So, instead of going down memory lane, I enroll the both of us into counseling. That goes really well. We learn to be better partners in the relationship. We learn to work together to save what's left of our relationship. Another year goes by, a few bumps, but nothing major. We finally get married.
I took on the housewife thing with flying colors. I was happy. I found a little job, he has his, we're storybook. Until he does the same ******* thing again. It isn't even 3 months in and there he goes. At this point, I'm away from family and friends in a strange new place, and I don't honestly know where I'll go from here. Still, better to go than stay around and take another emotional smackdown. I can't handle it anymore. It's literally driving me insane. I want to kill myself because I can't take the pain of knowing I'm never going to ever be enough for the one person I want to be enough for. It doesn't matter what other men are coming to sniff around, I don't even care. I don't want anyone else. When you love someone, you love someone...as much as you sometimes hate it. I make my preparations to leave, though he didn't know, and around that time I find out I'm pregnant.
It spins the whole world to a complete halt. I know kids entering the kind of environment we were creating is terrible. But something about being pregnant changed both of us drastically. Suddenly it wasn't about what he or I had done or would do, it was about what we could do for our baby. This tiny creature who needed the both of us so much more than whatever we needed as individuals.
We became better people. My pregnancy was the happiest time in our relationship that I can recall. He was so much better too. He really could have cared less about his ****. **** can't make offspring for him I guess. I didn't really care. I just cared about my baby. Our whole family did. It brought everyone closer. It was like this wonderful beacon had come into our life and lit up a path for us to follow into a happier marriage and a happier ending in life. As terrible as things had been for us, it was a million times reversed into a joyous and wonder filled 22 weeks and 6 days.
Then we lost her. Spontaneous fluke led to an early labor and her tiny body just wasn't ready to fight.
In an instant, everything shattered. I needed him then more than I'd ever needed him. Just this once, I wanted to reach out and have him be there for me. I needed his support. My trust had blossomed and I was ready to give my heart to him again. And he wasn't there. He wasn't with his cyber ****** either. He just...wasn't there. Physically, he was sitting there. But he'd pat my shoulder, let me cry, then that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. The obligatory stance, then he was off to go play video games. I tried to reason that maybe this was his way of grieving. Eventually, he'd come to me and I could have my turn too. I swallowed my pain and went through what I could.
For about a week, he was what I needed. He was more loving, kinder, etc. He cared. Then, it was like we picked up right where we left off.
I don't trust him. He rarely wants to be intimate with me, and when we are it's not sweet love making. It's sex. It scratches an itch and then it's done. I want to talk to him. I want him to know I'm still hurting over our daughter and just hold each other. I want us to be close like we were when we had her. I want him to know me as a person and not just this toy he refuses to let go of or this pet that he wants to show off to his friends. I want us to work. But I don't think we will. Part of me has already given up, and it hurts to know that.
If I go, I run the risk of him hurting himself, and I know I'll feel as if I've failed my daughter yet again. If I stay, I run the risk of hurting myself, and I know I'll feel as if I'm showing my daughter it's okay to stay in a bad relationship. I don't know what to do to fix us. Neither one of us has a work schedule that will allow us to go to counseling...
I don't want to die, but I don't want him to either. I want to be me again. I want to feel strong and beautiful. I know I've made mistakes too...I just don't know what to do anymore.