It's 3:30 in the morning and I should be sleeping. I'm not because I can't turn my brain off.
Things have not gone as well as I had hoped for this weekend and I am feeling quite defeated. I'm past the pain and hurt, I'm past angry. I'm just empty and defeated. I tried talking and received little to no response from him. That is his typical response when things come along that he does not want to deal with, ignore it until it goes away. He knows this is a problem and he does it anyway and freely admits when I push him on it that this is the case.
It continues to take me doing something drastic to get a response from him. He did finally react when I got my purse and keys and was walking out. When that happens whatever he does seems like too little too late. I always give him the benefit of the doubt and listen to him, because I really don't want to leave. I do my best to keep my temper under control and make an effort to speak intelligently about what I need. I often fail at both, but I do at least try.
Eventually we get to a place where I am all talked out, but we never seem to actually make any significant progress. We cover the same ground over and over and over and go no where. It's frustrating, but I put that aside and try to figure out where I have gone wrong, what I have failed to clearly communicate, how can I fix it.
I keep coming back to the same conclusion. For whatever reason, he does not want to put forth the effort needed to help me. Not surprisingly, he feels he is making an effort. I have a very difficult time explaining that I need more from him. I feel guilty even asking for more and that too seems wrong. It very much leaves me feeling like I'm in this all alone.
When I get to that point my mind takes the next logical leap and tells me if I'm going to be alone in this then I should really be alone. I should leave. That idea used to scare me, it used to make me feel like it was an illogical panic reaction. I no longer feel that way. I am starting to accept the fact that maybe I was wrong, maybe we weren't meant to be together forever.
If my choices are to stay and be unhappy or leave and be alone, I'll leave. I'd rather be alone and have some chance at being happy then be together and make both of us miserable. I never thought I would be one of those women that walked out after decades of marriage. It's beginning to become a very real possibility, all because he can't or won't make the effort to understand how important this is to me.
He's more then willing to meet my needs as long as he gets to define those needs. I'm willing to do just about anything for him, but I'm not willing to do that. It took me a long time to trust someone enough and be secure enough to recognize what I really needed. Now that I have I don't think I can just ignore it to make things easier for him. I have now come full circle and am back at square one.