sux2bhurt's Journal

When confronted about the cheating she made it clear that I was emotionally unavailable, didn't show affection and had promised to take care of her and marry her when she got pregnant, but put off marriage repeatedly. 

She was right.

I was initially overwhelmed and not sure how happy I was about being placed into that situation.  Instead of being completely honest, I told her what she wanted to hear, and tried to live up to it.  I should have been honest and I wasn't.  I didn't take care of her how I should have, in certain ways I was selfish and cheap and dishonest, and it pisses me off that I was.  That was my father, and I swore not to be like him in those ways, but I was.  She had a point. 

I was very unaffectionate thinking she would always be there and I could get us back on track, but that my disinterest would motivate her to see the "error" of her ways in child care and taking care of the home.  (I worked, she didn't).  It only depressed her, made her self-esteem lower and made her look elsewhere for validation, allowing the lying, disingenuous, predatorious sonofabitch to groom her for his lies and garbage.  I was passive-aggressive, and it turned around to punish me, and the kids.

I put off marrying her.  I felt we were married except on paper, she felt lied to and adrift.  She argued with me about it, I argued with her about it.  We never discussed it and really heard how each other felt.  I loved her, didn't trust her, at the time financially and wanted her to become more committed to being a mother and partner.  She felt I wanted "June Cleaver".  We argued, but never talked about this either.  I wish I had all this back to do one more time, but the damn genie is out of the bottle.

She was dead wrong in taking it the way she did, as far as she did.  More than dead wrong in rubbing my nose in it during the last few weeks in the house, and in making love with me and telling me we would try again, all the while still having this bastard in her thoughts, and not disclosing the depths of what was occurring.  That hurt the most, to one day believe we had another chance and to plummet the next into realization that she didn't want one, didn't want me, didn't want anything but the fantasy she had constructed out of an older, pompous, local-hack musician.   I need to accept that she wasn't the devil for doing it, she was confused and unloved and lonely and I did that to her.  We both screwed up royally, and it can't be fixed.  And it is so damn hard to accept that.  So hard.

I love her today, I don't want to.  I need to stop and let go, to stop hurting myself wondering if she is with him at any given moment.  It doesn't matter.  Intellectually I know this, that if she isn't with me it doesn't matter where she is.  In my heart, it still just hurts so badly.  Jealousy, yes.  Loving what I can't have, sure.  True regret, yes.  Now I recognize what I should have seen a long time ago, and its too damn late.