I don't feel safe. I don't like how I feel in my own skin. I don't know how I feel anymore. It's a roller coaster of love, forgiveness, and toleration. There are moments where I remember what I saw in him, what drew me to him. That is when I tell myself that it's worth it and that he's still in there. Then I remember that I thought it was there before while he simultaneously cheated on me left and right with anyone who would have him. What does he love in me? What motivated him to accept my eager pursuit to have him in my life even as friend. Why did he accept to be my boyfriend? Why did he accept to marry me? Does he love me anymore? I try to find it in the midst of the bitter words and stinging insults. None of this is as I imagined or hoped. I readily accepted the fact that there would be fights and bitter words, but that it would ultimately make us stronger as we made a life together. I never expected perfection. I expected him to want me in his life and appreciate me, not just for what I do for him, but for my open hearted demonstrations of love and affection towards him. Instead I feel like I'm trying to keep a fire alive in a windstorm, fueling it while trying to delicately avoid provoking some unwanted outcome. It has made me bitter. It's hardened me. Everything I do feels like it's just expected and that no reciprocation is necessary. I'm so tired of pouring myself into this. I have begun to dwindle in my efforts. I feel the bond weakening. There is no intimacy unless you consider him demanding back rubs and foot rubs to be intimacy. He hasn't touched me in months...if not longer. He hasn't approached me for intimacy in a month. He can't do this. He can't go that long without sex. And yet, at the same time, I don’t know if I could even if he did. The only possibility in front of me is a return to his bad habit of betraying me. I have no evidence and I would feel shitty accusing him or assuming it, only to find out I'm completely wrong. I'm on the precipice. I don't know if I'm coming or going. I don't know where my life is headed. On some level I want out, but every time I consider this, I feel an overwhelming dread suffocate me while my anxiety builds. My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest and I struggle to pace my breathing. I feel like I'm waiting for the inevitable, uncertain when that day will come...by my choice or his. I don't know if I can see a future anymore. I'm lost here. I could gladly accept the lack of sex if there was affection. I truly could. I could look past the bad behaviors if he showed me that he loves me in more ways than living here and using the words "babe" or "hun" to address me. I don't know if I will find myself again.


[Several months later, I found out that he had been sleeping around again and I packed his things.]