I slept in the living room last night.
I asked him to, but, well, you know…
You know, when he starts accusing me, the thing is, he’s not completely wrong.
Last night, after I had asked him to sleep in the living room, he told me that I only remember the bad things. That is partially true. I do tend to be more “glass half empty” rather than “glass half full.” I guess the bad things cause more pain and somehow pain sticks with you more than pleasure? Or maybe I am afraid of pleasure because so often pain follows? I don’t know.
He told me that I don’t forgive him. I asked him what he had asked me to forgive. “Everything I have done to hurt you.” I told him that maybe it wasn’t about forgiveness. Maybe it was about that I don’t want to be hurt anymore.
I do believe forgiveness is vital. But I ask him, how many times should a woman forgive a man for hitting her? An issue like that is not about forgiveness. It is about abuse and I told him that.
He said that he tries to do nice things for me. I told him roses on the table didn’t make up for the fact that my daughter couldn’t come sit at the table with me. He said that was her choice. He still maintains that he was there for his daughters and that it isn’t his fault that they have nothing to do with him.
When he started to talk about that people aren’t perfect and that there are just going to be problems and that that is just the way life is, I grabbed my pillows and a sheet out of the pile of clean laundry and when to sleep in the living room.