I am so ashamed to write this.
I almost didn’t write it but since my blog is my story, I have to write it.
I let him have sex with me this morning.
He started touching me and I want to be loved and be touched so badly and my mind went through its crazy thinking – maybe it will be different this time.
At first it was nice to be touched, but then I remembered that I hate the way he “makes love.” I won’t go into details, but he just doesn’t know how to be a good lover. And, yes, I have tried, I don’t know how many times, to tell him what pleases me.
I thought I was going to be o.k., but then when I was done (but not really; again, not going into the details), I started crying and crying and crying. I just wanted to die. So badly, I wanted to die. I wanted to take the vase of roses and smash them against the window. (But, that would make a mess and I, of course, would have to clean it up. Oh, and it might hurt his feelings. Can you tell I am still seriously co-dependent?)
So after I calm down a little bit, he says:
I love you.
I’m sorry I made you cry.
Can I put my penis in you?
Well, you know me. I let him. Somehow, I zoned out enough, thinking maybe he’ll be quick. Of course, years ago when I actually wanted him to last, he didn’t. But now, when I just want him off me, he takes his own sweet time. He tells me I’m beautiful. He tells me I feel so good.
By the time he finishes, I am crying again. He says, “Oh, (my name), I love you!”
I know it’s my own fault for letting him, but how can a man have an orgasm while his wife is crying???
Anyhow, then I wanted to die all over again. I cried and cried some more. I’m not crying now, but I feel so shaky.
And to think, in my thinking about leaving, I’ve been wondering if I would have the courage to tell him I am leaving because I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
When will I ever learn?
Now I am going to go eat fist-fulls of chocolate chips, my drug of choice.