That would sum up the last two weeks.
This is pain like I have never known. I keep reminding myself that it must pale in comparison to his, but does it? Really?
I hurt. And I don’t see any way out of it.
To stay would to mean that I wait and watch the inevitable demise of our marriage.
But I can’t live without him. He IS me.
But I don’t think I’m him. Not anymore.
Was I ever him?
Maybe I never had him.
Oh God, What is going on here? What do I have? Did I never really have him like he had me? I am terrified of the hold he has on me. I don’t know which way is up without him telling me. Would losing him be the only way to force me into some self confidence, or would it be my ultimate un- doing? I fear undoing.
This isn’t thrill ride fear. This isn’t the kind of fear of “losing him” in a Patsy Cline song.
This is watching your kids get hit by a bus fear.
When he goes to Italy tomrrow, what will be there for him?
When he goes wherever, whenever, what will be there for him?
Does it matter? There will always be something. Something bigger, stronger, more attractive than me.
My husband is GAY. Don’t you get it? What do you think is going to happen? That it will all just diminish and he will suddenly want to jack off with YOU? That he will one day wake up and NOT want to look at naked men with giant erections?
Even if he stays here, he will never really be HERE. He belongs to the universe now.
Let him go.
I can’t. I won’t.
I want to wake up now. Please?