I think what I just realized tonight is that the most disappointing part of this relationship is knowing that I can’t trust anything that he says anymore. It takes so much for me to be truly comfortable with someone… and when I finally start to get to that point, he just argues and threatens to leave… and I fight back and tell him to go. Then we make up and it’s back to “normal” again. And there’s always this little piece of hope or happiness or whatever it may be… that will never come back. He promises things that never happen for more than a day or two. Then we hit rewind and go right back to the beginning. As if nothing were ever said. Starting from the very first fight, when I was so incredibly happy. Couldn’t believe I had found someone who had everything I could ever want (in a person anyway). Then the big blow… he’s screwing other people (yeah, people). Ok fine. That’s my karma obviously. And that shit fucking hurt. It hurt like fuck. Probably because I really thought I had my guy back… after all these years. I finally had him again… and it was perfect. So I thought. And shit yeah, I totally let him talk me back into being with him. I wanted him. HIM. I wanted to be with him and I was afraid that if I didn’t take him back, I would lose out on what could be the love of my life. And hell yeah, there were fights. Brutal fights. Conflicts that I’ve never experienced in my life. Almost to the point of physical pain… almost. But the love in between was so great. When we’re happy, we’re ecstatic. And as we all know, what goes up…

When I decided I wanted our relationship to go deeper, I gave him a key to the house. He was staying over every night anyway. And I was 98% sure he wasn’t seeing anyone else. So he slowly moved all of his stuff over. And he put in for the address change. And we got a joint bank account. And I considered marrying him. And I let my guard down. I also got super comfortable and stopped having sex as often. Once, maybe twice, per week. I tried being more affectionate and started telling him EVERYTHING. Shit that most people would never, ever know (or care to) about me. But we’re just not on the same level sex-wise. We never have been, or will be. I will never be that girl who just wants to fuck on a moment’s notice. And he’s the guy who wants sex anytime, anywhere. As we all know, this is NOT the first time this has come up. It will be the death of me. He promised me he would never leave me because I didn’t give him ass. That it was fucking stupid to lose someone like me, who loves him (through good/bad, unemployment and work drama, broke and not, etc), his kids, his family, over something so trivial as sex. And besides, he says, sex once/twice per week is actually great for two working people with kids. We’re tired… that’s life. So I thought. Fast forward about a thousand fights (and only 9 months) later… and here we are, not even arguing about lack of sex anymore. We just don’t even talk about it now. He just mopes around the house because it’s been a week. And is on edge. And tells me he’s happy. No, miserable. No, happy… he doesn’t know. And I know that deep down to his core, he needs sex to make himself feel needed… wanted… important… like a person. This goes way beyond him just wanting… needing sex. This goes to the very core of his soul. He needs sex. He is a sexual being. And I’m not. And god dammit this isn’t the first time this has happened. Sigh.

So here we are; in separate rooms because he doesn’t care anymore. He goes to bed early because he doesn’t care about how I’m feeling (his words) anymore. Early is 7 pm lately. And a couple fights ago, we resolved to split, on good terms, in January if things continue like this. Neither of us think we will make it ‘til then. Funny how he wanted to marry me a few months ago… and now he goes to bed early to avoid feeling rejected by me. We can’t even see ourselves together a little over than a month from now. Ain’t love grand.