Last night when I am just about asleep:
him: I think you should have sex with me.
me: The last time I had sex with you, I cried all day. (See post.)
him: I really need to have sex. It hurts to not have sex.
me: It makes me cry when we have sex.
him: How would you feel if I hadn’t danced with you last night?
We had gone to a family dance hosted by our church the night before. Yes, he danced with me. I love to dance. He humors me. He doesn’t dance well. He doesn’t dance as much as I would like. But he is the only one I can dance with so I dance with him and I don’t say anything about it. But it kind of makes me sad because I would love to dance with someone who loves to dance as much as I do and who dances as well if not better than I do. And that night, in the middle of the evening, he got a text from his sister, so he spent the next half hour on the phone with her going over a family drama that he neither could (nor would) do anything about from where we are. There was no need for him to spend all that time on the phone with her instead of dancing with me. But whatever.
I didn’t answer him about how I felt about dancing with him. It wouldn’t have done any good. In fact, there was nothing at all that I could have said about anything. It wouldn’t have mattered to him. He has no empathy. He has no concept in the least of what it feels like to be in someone elses shoes.
Then he said: Is there something wrong with you?
me: Excuse me?
me: Did you just say, is there something wrong with me? There’s nothing wrong with me.
him: I think there’s something wrong with you. Most women want sex. And you don’t want sex. There must me something wrong with you.
me: It hurts me to have sex with you because I don’t feel emotionally connected with you.
him: I try to be nice to you and to love you and to not make you mad at me.
me: I still don’t feel emotionally connected
him: Is this because I don’t make enough money?
him: What do you want?
me: I want to be loved.
him: You don’t know what you want. You’re just a spoiled brat. You’re selfish and you’re picky and you have to have everything exactly the way you want it. And you’re just using sex as a weapon to get what you want.
There was nothing more to say. I eventually went to sleep, curled up like I had been kicked to the gutter.