AN ANNIVERSARY TO FORGET

Oh, the joys of wedded bliss.  So much in love...and they lived happily ever after...blah blah blah. Yeah right.

Yesterday was our 11th wedding anniversary.  It was a big deal...but only to Derek. He seemed to be the only one excited about it.  I was apprehensive about the day, and Philip was indifferent.  Derek made us a card filled with crayon drawings and misspelled words--I will treasure it forever.  It was the only good thing that happened all day.

As for the actual day, all I can say is that I tried. I had dinner ready for him when he and Derek got home from an outing--Roast Beef, mashed potatoes, etc.--everything that Philip liked.  I tried to make the rest of the day special, since they were gone for most of it, but he was not in the mood to act like the happily married couple.  Eventually, I felt the same way.

I tried to be patient when he told me that he was not hungry, still recovering from the large Thanksgiving meal the day before.  Beside, they grabbed some "take out" on the road.  Derek and he planned to head directly towards the living room to watch a college football game.

Philip has not tried at all in these past two weeks.  I don't know what I expected, considering the circumstances of our near split.  He actually volunteered to go into work on the day after Thanksgiving, when others have off, until Derek begged him to stay home and take him somewhere.  I guess that he thought that it would been too hard to spend four full days in a row with me without the cushion of a work day.  Forty eight hours on the weekend is long enough.  Ninety-six?  Well, I guess that it was an impossibility.

I know..."Give him time".  I am trying to do just that.   You don't have to remind me that it's my fault that my marriage is down the toilet.  However, he could try to make it easier for both of us.  We could be like before--platonic roommates living in the same house, but trying, at least, to be civil to one another.  Right now, climbing that mountain seems to be insurmountable.

FYI, I am not sulking.

EVERYTHING I SEE

This morning, I saw Doug, the "creepy guy" at the grocery store.  Well, I never called him the "creepy guy" before T gave him that tag.  I always thought that he was just a nice guy who always helped me load groceries into my car.  That was until he made me uncomfortable one day, and T was there to diffuse the situation.  About a month later, T told me that the guy was leering at, and talking directly to, my breasts.  Now I call Doug the "creepy guy".  Problem is, that I have no-one to talk to about him.

Such is life these days.  I see the creepy guy, and I think of T.  There are so many things that remind me of him.  When I pass a black SUV, I think of him.  When I see a Harley Davidson, ditto.  Many of the thoughts come out of nowhere, some that shouldn't remind me of him at all...like going to church.  You know how it is..."lead us not into temptation"?  When I think of the word "temptation", I think of him.  His picture might as well be next to the definition of the word.   T might not be around, but it hasn't stopped me from thinking about him.  One of these days, I'll be able to finish a sentence without saying to myself..."and then I thought about T".

Speaking of church.  I went to confession.   Bless me father, for I have sinned...confessed everything...affair, pregnancy...constant impure thoughts that won't stop, etc.  Not at our local Catholic church, mind you, because I didn't want to face Father Hanley.  I went a few towns over to a priest who has never seen or heard of me.  He said that I made the right decision to try to repair my marriage, and should go with Philip to marriage counseling.  Well...yeah...that's a great idea.  I would be more than happy to go to counseling.  Unfortunately, that would not fit into Philip's schedule--ever!

As for Philip, he is not making life easy.   He knows that a choice had to be made between him and T, and I chose him (well...technically, I chose Derek).  T and I are miserable, and that must make him very happy. For example, he saw me staring into space the other day and he snickered, reminding me that I should not worry about "my lover" moving on.  T could just open up his little black book and start with the A's.  It was so nice of him to point that out.  

T can move on, and I truly hope that he does.  Really...I do  (I think).  As for me, I seem to be stuck in a time warp--wishing that it was September again.  I'll even take August--before the affair,  when we were just friends.  I'll even take June, when I hated his guts--anything!  After a week, I just want to see him, talk to him or be near him.  There is this hole in my life that only he can fill.

This is so much harder than I thought it would be.  I find myself listening to Bread, and Barry Manilow songs, and there are no happy ones.  That's not a good thing.  I can only hope that eventually I will be able to wake up in the morning without wishing that I was still in bed.

MY ROOMMATE HATES MY GUTS

I guess that I can't blame him for feeling this way.  

I know it.  I see the frown that appears on his face whenever I walk into a room.  I can tell it when he looks at me.  The contempt is hard to hide.   Before the affair, I used to think that he didn't love me anymore.  He was bored with me, or didn't desire me anymore.  But now, after the smoke has cleared from my indiscretion,  I know for sure that my roommate hates my guts.

Sure, I know that I'm talking about the man who is my husband, but can I really call him that?  We no longer act like a married couple unless we are putting on an Oscar winning performance for our family and friends.  Derek doesn't seem to pick up the fact that we are married "in name only", and that's a good thing, but how long can we keep this up?  Will this get any better, or are we doomed?

Dear Wayward Wife, I hate you! Sincerely, Your Pissed Off Husband.

Today included a flawless performance to submit to the Academy.  We were at a picnic for the end of the soccer league season.  I was working diligently with other mothers, setting up and serving the food.   Meanwhile, Philip chatted with other people that we knew, including Roberta.  As I watched him, he glanced in my direction as if to say, "what the hell are you looking at?".  I felt a chill go up my spine.  I could feel it.  He hates me.  But, nobody else can tell.  As far as everyone else was concerned, we are still the perfect family that we always were.

There was a coaches vs referees game, and at the end of it, trophies were handed out to all the kids who participated in the league.  Derek has another trophy for the shelf, and the three of us took a picture together with a proud Derek in the middle.  When I look at it, I could see the smiles that we faked, and the fact that we tried to be as far away from each other as possible, while both touching the person who is the only reason why we are still together.

Tonight, after putting Derek to bed, we returned to our separate areas of the house.  We don't talk, we don't laugh, we don't love.  We are just roommates who can't stand each other.  Tomorrow, we will do the same thing at church.  Act like a happy family until there in no one left in the audience.

The perfect family.   What a beautiful façade.  What an incredible crock.

A SUDDEN CHANGE OF HEART

Yesterday started like all the other days of my new existence as a soon to be ex-wife.  I woke up in the guest room at T's house, and dragged myself next door.  I passed P on the way into the house, and he didn't even look at me.  We were like two ships passing in the night (like the song says, but without the smile saying it's all right).  With a kiss, I woke Derek for school, and hugged him.  This had been my daily routine.

I stayed the day in the house,  spent the day whole wondering if P called a lawyer, and when I should call one.  I fretted about what I was going to do when the affair was made public, because we cannot hide this forever.  The nosy people will want to know why we were getting a divorce, especially our friends, relatives, and neighbors.  Roberta was going to have a field day once this secret was exposed.  This particular gossip would make her year--the fall of a "Perfect Wife".

As I wondered, I scrubbed the floors--worked my ass off.  It was the stress, I guess.  I clean so that I won't eat  (Eating used to be the thing that I did when I was stressed--don't want to pick up that habit again).  By the time Derek came home from school, I was completely out of energy.

At eight, I was pitched out again.  P didn't say the words, but he didn't have to--just gave me that special look, and I left.  He didn't want to talk, and I didn't care.  I just wanted to trudge back to T's house and collapse.  Once I was there, I was tired, cranky, and my back was aching (it already hurt in the morning because of that stupid, lousy mattress on the guest bed.  I should have asked T to replace it weeks ago, if not for me, but for when his son Alex visited from Florida).  T was not home yet because he was working on a Wednesday for a change, so I took it upon myself to stretch out on his comfortable "Sleep Number" bed.

Inevitably, he found me when he came home, and for the first time in about a month, we did not try to fight our affection for each other.  I know that I was starved for it, and considering the bleak outlook of my marriage, I decided not to fight it.  P had said repeatedly that didn't want me back.   I knew that T loved me, and I loved him, and desperately needed his attention.  I didn't want to deny it anymore.  What was the point? 

Murphy's Law (of course) came into effect as the doorbell rang, putting an end to whatever had begun, or was about to happen--I don't know what that was, because the bell rang again, and I jumped up like I was on fire.  Somehow, I knew who had interrupted my plans at nine-thirty on a Wednesday night.  I straightened myself up, and went to answer the door.

I can't imagine what I would have done if it was someone else at the door--might have called T quickly, and hid in a closet somewhere.  But P was indeed at the door.  I fully expected him to hand me divorce papers, but instead he wanted me to come next door to talk.

I followed him next door, and we sat at our kitchen table to discuss what remained of our marriage.  P said, to my surprise, that he had decided to keep the family intact--for Derek's sake.  

There were conditions, however:  

1)  He does not want me to tell anyone about the affair (not family, friends or anyone else), because he did not want Derek to find out. He wants to protect Derek, and I can't argue with that.

2) We will live in the same house together, but not be together as a couple.  He will never forget or forgive me, and does not want to go to marriage counseling.  We'll be roommates, not lovers.

3)  I can never see T again.  It's a deal breaker.

It did not take me long to agree to the terms.  This was what I wanted, wasn't it?   I should be happy.  Derek will have his parents together, and the family unit will survive. Hopefully, it will not eat itself from the inside like a cancer.

So, this was my future.  I had consented to a loveless marriage, and after Thursday morning, I would never see the man I love again.  

I just had to go back and tell T about the "good news"--on a Wednesday...

continued...IT'S REALLY OVER

BLOWING UP THE FAMILY

P has been giving me the silent treatment, and I don't know what's going to happen next.    He must be getting a sick kind of thrill out of all of this.  

Let me explain.  Yesterday,  P, Derek and I visited the house where I grew up to help celebrate my mother's birthday.  I have been on edge for a while about this, because P has not informed me of his plans regarding the divorce that he is determined to get--he just told me that he wanted one, and has not said another word about it since Saturday night.  I had tried my best to find out what he had planned before we took this one hour trip together, but I guess that he'd rather see me squirm.  

So, in other words, I didn't know if or when he was going to stand up and announce to my side of the family that I was a lying, cheating whore.  Was it going to be while my mother cut her birthday cake, or while she was opening her presents?  A usually happy occasion was miserable.  Reunion with aunts, uncles and my sister were tarnished by the fact  that at any moment, P could drop the bomb to blow up my family's happiness.   Every time he opened his mouth, I held my breath. He knew that I was afraid of what he might say, and took pleasure in the torture that it caused.  Revenge must feel so sweet.

I didn't truly know that I was in the clear until we were in the van, driving home.  I could finally breathe after such a harrowing day.  I wanted to cry, but did not want to give him that satisfaction.  The ride home was as silent as the ride there. For once, I didn't want to talk, and didn't wait for P to give me that "get lost" look once Derek fell asleep.  I just wanted to get away from him.

Once I walked into T's house, I headed straight for the kitchen--didn't even say hi to T as I passed him sitting in the living room.  I opened the fridge, stole a bottle of beer, opened it and seemed to suck it down in two seconds.  I needed it so badly, and a beer never tasted so good.

"Is there a problem?" T asked.

I rolled my eyes, sighed, and then spent the rest of the evening venting about the day.  Today, I returned to more silence, and more pretending to be the perfect wife at church, then the social afterwards.   At night, once Derek was asleep, I was kicked out again.   I don't know how much more of this I can take.

I WANT EVERYTHING!

I bought out the grocery store today.  Lots of food on sale--pasta, soup, etc.  I like to make my own recipes, but also wanted to stock up on canned items, with lousy weather ahead.   The van was packed.  I don't know why I bought so much stuff because I originally went in there for just a few items.  By the time I left, the shelves were empty.  Well not really, but you get the point.

Why did I buy so much?  I can only guess, but it could have something to do with the fact that I visited the Old Age home to visit with my senior friends, including Frank.  I had not seen him in about a month, or maybe more...since the affair with T started.  I had not seen him since then.  When I was leaving, Frank told me to tell  my husband that his grandfather was looking for him.  Still a bit confused, I guess.  He still thinks that I'm T's wife.  After that, I could not stop thinking about T.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  Regretfully,  I realized that I would have to lug all those bags into the house by myself.  Suddenly, I was kicking myself for buying out the store.  I took a deep breath and started to unload the van, taking a couple of bags for one of what could have been thousands of trips back and forth from the driveway to the house.  I wasn't looking forward the task, I'll tell you that much.

After the first trip, I came outside and saw T standing there with bags in hand to help me.  I don't know where he came from, as I didn't remember seeing his truck in the driveway, but there he was in the flesh.   He looked incredible.  I pitifully tried to tell him that I didn't need any help, but he knew, as well as I did, that I was lying.  Besides that,  stubborn man that he is, he would not take no for an answer.  I was so starved to be close to him that I easily gave in.

I had not seen him since Philip's Sunday's morning call.  I had texted him a few times to let him know what was going on, but that was it.  I didn't hear his voice, and didn't see his gorgeous face until today.  I found myself staring at him while he was there, and vice-versa.  He looked right through me.  It was so uncomfortable that he had to leave before any real conversation had begun.  We were better off.

Now, I'm back to square one.  The desire is back (as if it had ever left).  Now, I can't stop thinking about him.  I want him,  but I want my family together.  I want everything--all of it.  In a perfect world, I could have it all, but I can't have everything, because it's not a perfect world--not for me, anyway.  I now know that if I want my marriage with Philip to be repaired, there is no way that I can live next door to T .  He was right.  It would be too difficult.  I could not see him every day, or even once in a while.  The temptation would be far too great.

So, it's once again time to dive into a box of cookies, and cry my eyes out.  Lord knows, I haven't cried enough.  I really am pathetic.

THE INCOGNITO MOM--HIDING OUT IN MY OWN HOUSE

Derek is well enough to go back to school tomorrow, and that is certainly good news for my little guy.  The past three days have been horrible for him, but today, even though he was home from school, I can see the light in his eyes, and a spring in his step.  He's ready.

The bad news is that I will no longer have my safely net.  With Derek on the mend and back to normal, I will have no excuse to give to P when he asks me to leave.  Given what he said to T on Saturday, I would not be surprised if I got the hook tonight.

So today, I plan on putting on the full Perfect Wife routine.  Cooking, cleaning, and then working on Derek's Halloween costume after dinner.  It's a strategic maneuver.  If I am knee deep in fabric, P can't kick me out, can he?  Or maybe I should nail myself to the floor or hide in the closet.

Actually, this wouldn't be a bad closet to hide out in

All joking aside, I've done everything I can to take advantage of this time that I've been given, and I'm going to attempt to stretch this time out as long as possible.  I want him to see how much he needs me around--for Derek's sake, at least, if not for his own.  Derek needs a stable environment with two parents who will anything to keep him the happy boy that he's always been.  I will make P see that, and maybe we can go from there.  

T WOULD LEAVE ME BEHIND

Derek and I spent the day together.  Just the two of us, after his soccer game this morning.  We went to a Halloween event at the mall, and then Sprinkle City.  We had a great time, although he did have a little stomach ache afterwards, probably from all the candy, popcorn, and ice cream.  I think that I went a little overboard trying to be the fun Mom.

When I returned home with Derek, I felt a definite chill in the air coming from the direction of my husband.  He was more distant than usual (and I thought that was impossible).  Once Derek was in bed, I mentioned the fact that Derek was not feeling well and looked a little pale.  I wondered out loud if I should stay the night, since I would be there all day tomorrow, anyway.  Besides, I wanted to keep an eye on Derek.  That did not go over well.

"I can handle it," he said, defiantly.  Then he snidely told me to go home to my lover.

I froze for a second, wondering where that came from, or what I did to cause it.  I  decided that it would not be a good time to discuss our issues, because obviously, he was in an extremely foul mood.  I just left.

I found T in the kitchen with a distant look on his face.  When he saw me, he forced a cheerful smile on his face, but I could tell that something was on his mind.  He is easier to read than P--wears his feelings, where P would hide them.  But didn't want to pry, and wanted to vent about how P acted.  Then he said that it was probably his fault.  It was also then that I noticed a bruise on the left side of his face.

I asked him what he meant, and then he sighed as if he were about to tell me something that I didn't want to hear.  He was right.  While I was out with Derek,  T had gone next door to talk to my husband, man to man.  The discussion was about me, of course.  T offered to sell his house and move away if that was what it took for P to take me back.

I wanted to yell at him.  Why did he offer that?  What made him think that I wanted him to offer to move away?  I felt like a pawn in a negotiation.  I'm sick of people deciding, behind my back, what is best for me.  It's my life!  Don't I get a say in this?  

But, of course, T is right.  P would never take me back if he was still here, living right next door with available arms for me to run to.  Problem is, I don't want him to go.  I guess that you can say that it is a problem that I have to deal with.

Curiously, I asked T what P said about the offer.  After pausing, he told me that P said that he would never take me back after what I have done.  I was surprised.  Surely, P would fight to keep Derek's family together, or that T would not win out...but no.   Then, the realization sunk in.  There is a real possibility that I will not be able to keep this marriage together no matter how many hoops I try to jump through--Derek or no Derek.  P has washed his hands of me.  After only two weeks, he is already ready to move on.  Maybe he has wanted to dump me for the longest time, but never had an excuse.  Now, he does.

I always knew the rule.  We had always said it.  If one of us ever had an affair, the trust would be broken and the marriage would be over.  I agreed with the rule, believed in it (never thought I would be the one to break it), but deep down, I always thought that if one of us strayed, the other would forgive.  I think that I would have forgiven him...I guess...maybe not...I don't know.  How does one forgive betrayal on that scale?   

What happens now?  Sitting Derek down in the living room and telling him that the family is breaking up?  Calling the lawyers to file for divorce papers?  Figuring out custody decisions?  Will he file for full custody since I was the one who broke the vows, causing the end of the marriage?  All these questions are swirling through my head.  I don't know how I am going to handle all this.  I'm sure that I am in for another sleepless night.

TWO HOUSES--TWO VASTLY DIFFERENT MEN

I just realized today that I am cleaning two houses.  Living in two houses has doubled my workload. I clean the first one because that is my job, keeping a clean and tidy house for my son.  I clean the second house because I can't stand to look at it if I don't do something.  Mark is a slob, plain and simple--he has actually improved since I met him--not enough, if you ask me.  I guess that I have been in love with a slob--go figure.  At first, I did not clean up after him, but after a week of it, I couldn't stand it. He has never asked me to do anything, but if I don't do it, I assume that no one will, except for the maid who comes once a week.  But the rest of the week,  I can't help myself.  I cannot live in a mess.  I am used to an orderly life, everything in its place.  

I guess I've been spoiled by P for the last ten years.  P actually cleans something immediately after he uses it--never leaves items laying around.  He would actually finish drinking a can of soda while standing over the recycling bin.  Perfectly groomed, showers daily, never has a hair out of place.   I've never really had to clean up after him.  Even now, when I walk into the bathroom after he has left for work, there is no mess left behind for his wayward wife.  He is a perfectionist, and probably always will be.  At times, it was a rather daunting task keeping him happy, but at least everything was in order.

T on the other hand, is a work in progress--a virtual forty-year-old frat boy, who leaves clothes, pizza boxes and beer bottles laying around. His clothes stay where they've been dropped, and probably would stay there forever if no-one picked them up.  On days off from work, he does not shave--maybe doesn't even shower either--I'm afraid to ask.  Funny, he always seemed to shave on Wednesdays before.  But now that I am in the same house as him, I see that he is a total bachelor in every glorified sense of the word.  You can tell that he has not lived with a woman for years. What sane woman (I never said that I was sane) would live here?  

Such is my life, lately.  Between two worlds, and two vastly different men--stuck in the middle.   

You would think that I was more compatible with Philip.  In a way, he is more like I used to be--straight and narrow,  conservative and controlled, quiet and reserved.  P is extremely intelligent and disciplined, although the fact that he cannot quit smoking is quite perplexing.  Nevertheless, it is his only vice.  He drinks only on occasion, and doesn't gamble, etc.  He does not have many close friends, although he is always involved in the community.  He is a total family man--a devoted father.  His life revolves entirely around Derek.  In fact, once Derek was born, I ceased to exist in his eyes, other than a way to have more children.  But it was the same for me.  Derek is our greatest achievement, and is most important in our lives.  Derek loves him to death.   I knew that P would be a good father by the way he used to rave about it.   He always talked about the importance of family, wanted three or four children, and I overlooked many of his other traits, because I wanted the same thing. It is probably the reason that I married him.  I was twenty-five and wanted a home and family of my own.  He was my ticket to that life.

Mark is completely different from Philip and me, and surprisingly, I connect better with him.  He is outgoing, dynamic and reckless.  He is a responsible man, but you would never guess it by the way that he acts. He drinks, but I've never seen him drunk.  He does not smoke, but will have a cigar with his buddies at a party.  He is popular, fit and has a magnetic personality--easy with conversation, and an available ear when needed.   Everybody seems to like him, and he has many close friends--men and women.   He has a tough exterior, but inside is a loving, reassuring and supportive man who is irresistible.  Because of that fact,  I believe that he could be a good father if given a chance. He deserves a second chance.   Maybe it will happen for him, and I wish that I could be a part of that, but obviously I can't do it for so many reasons. Family reasons aside, I have proven that I just can't deliver the goods.  Maybe he will find someone who will.

Ugh!  I've got to stop thinking about what could have been, and focus on what I need to do to get my life back to normal.  My current living arrangement is not the best (or smartest), since I am still in love with T.  But, there is nowhere else to go.  I don't want anyone else to know what is going on with my marriage--don't want to get the rumor mills going.  Living here is convenient, and necessary, --for now.  

IT DIDN'T WORK. FAILURE AGAIN!!!

I tried.  I swear to God, I tried.  Desperate times calls for desperate measures, so I tried.


I made his favorite food.  I put our son to bed early.  I tried to get his attention, but was rejected...again.  I don't know how much more my ego can take. 

A half-hour ago, after he went to bed, I was literally crying in the bathtub and praying for guidance.  Now, I'm sitting bleary-eyed in front of the computer, and I'm still miserable.   I wish that I had a husband that did not take me for granted--I really do.   I desperately need support from him so that my mind does not start to wander.  The problem is that I know exactly where to find the support I need, but it's not an option.  I wish it were that easy.

I'm wishing so many things at this point.  I'm close to the edge, and hoping that I will not fall.

Wishing that I would not fall?  He is practically pushing me off the cliff!  If he knew how close I was to jumping, would he even care?  I  can't stress how mad I am.  He keeps rejecting me, and making me feel horrible about myself.  I spent the past few days fretting about what happened with T, and how I need to avoid him to try to get my marriage back on track.  But, I am not happy in this marriage and P doesn't seem to care that I have been neglected.  He does not notice me at all.  I'm just the lady who cleans the house, cooks the food and takes care of his child.  Other than that, I'm invisible.


I'm done making the first move, or any move.  I'm so sexually frustrated right now, I could gnaw open a can of tomatoes with my eye teeth.  But, I won't let my mind wander and jump into the fantasy land where my lover is incredibly hot, he worships the ground I walk on and we can't keep our hands off each other (with no consequences, mind you).  


Well, at least in my imagination, I can have a good time.  That's all I've got right now.

THIS IS NOT GOING TO WORK

This is so stupid.  I know that it's not going to work.  What make me think that another attempt at seduction will work?


P is already parked in front of the television, and letting me clean up the kitchen by myself.  He didn't even tell me that he liked the food.  His favorite food.  He just ate,  put his plate in the sink, and then walked into the living room to watch the Phillies. The damn Phillies!  I guess that I should be happy that he put his plate in the sink, but I would love to smash everything in it.

I'm determined to try, though.  Take a stab at it.  Open myself up for humiliation--again.  Try to avoid the craving for ice cream that I've been having all day.  I'll be lean, and hungry, and irresistible to my indifferent husband.  I hope.  


If this does not work, I don't know what to do.  I'm standing at the edge of a cliff right now, and P needs to talk me back from the edge or I'll fall off.

T CRASHED HIS MOTORCYCLE, I CAN'T THINK STRAIGHT AND P LAUGHED AT ME

Oh God, T was in an accident, and I was frantic.  


I tried to hard to keep my cool about it as P gave me the news as if this was a man that we hardly knew.  P ate dinner, read the paper, and cooly said "oh by the way, did you hear that Captain America was in an accident?"  I tried to keep my composure, but my heart was lodged in my throat.  All I heard was head injury, and hospital stay.  I wanted to break down and cry.  I realized that I could have lost him just like that.

P didn't seem very concerned, like men get into motorcycle accidents every day.  He did say, "Thank God it didn't happen when Mark took Derek for a ride."  I agreed with him, of course, but decided not to remind him that Mark took me for a ride on that same day as well.  Guess that he forgot that little tidbit of information.  

When I asked for more information on the accident, he became aggravated because he was in the middle of watching his precious Phillies game.  He sighed and said "why don't you ask him yourself?"  I expressed doubts about visiting T in the hospital, and said "What would people think?"  P laughed out loud as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard.  I guess he assumed that no one in the world would get the wrong idea.


What makes him so sure of that?  Am I that unattractive in his eyes?  Sometimes I wonder why he married me in the first place.  We hardly talk to each other, and when we do, it's about Derek or work--it's never about us.  As for sex, I might as well be a nun.


No matter.  I'm getting my wish.  I am going to see T at the hospital tomorrow, and with my husband's blessing.  

MY HUSBAND DOESN'T LOVE ME ANY MORE

Maybe I am wrong, or seeing things. Maybe I'm overreacting.  I just have this funny feeling that I am alone in this marriage.

When did it start? I guess that it was after my second miscarriage. P always wanted a big family, and was happy after Derek was born seven years ago. It was a happier time for all of us. Two miscarriages later, I feel defective and he has been more and more distant. Maybe he's disappointed in me because I can't deliver the goods. Maybe he has given up on me.
He never was really affectionate. Oh, he was quick with the flowers now and then, but those public displays of affection were few and far in between, if any. Jealously, I watch my friends and their husbands show their love for each other. I would take one passionate kiss over 12 dozen roses any day.

I guess this is the card that I have been dealt. I will keep trying to make this marriage work--play my role as perfect wife and mother. Maybe one day, he will look across the table and see me as someone other than the "help". I am a nearly desperate woman who needs the love and affection of a man who loves me.



My Introduction

MY MOTHER'S DAY GIFT WILL BE...

A PHILLIE'S GAME.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

I think that I have already stated how devoted a Phillie's fan Philip is.  The man is in front of the television set for every pre-game, and then game, and then post-game.  Our lives revolve around the Phillies during baseball season (and the Eagles during football season).  I have accepted it.  I don't like it, but I have accepted it.

But, Mother's Day?  We are traveling to Philadelphia on Mother's Day?  Why can't we just go to the movies, or dinner, or something else that is MY choice?  Why can't we go to a freaking Phillie's game on Father's Day, when it is his choice?  Oh no, Father's Day is the day when he gets the royal treatment.  He wouldn't pass that up.  Where's my royal treatment?

Of course, Derek is really excited about going to the game, so add in the Mother's guilt.  If I tell them that I don't want to go to the freaking game, then Derek will be disappointed.  I don't want to disappoint him, so I will keep my mouth shut.  So, I will be the one disappointed...again, for the sake of my family.

I REALLY WANT TO SCREAM RIGHT NOW!