March 29

Dear Diary,

No small talk today. I slipped last night. I let the fear show when he came home in a terrible mood. I apologized for asking him to pick up food. (I ordered ahead, but there was an issue and he was stuck in line for 45 minutes which was just the final straw.) I finished ironing his work clothes just before he got home and was rushing trying to be helpful and meet him downstairs to take the food so he could go change from work and unwind. Half way through turning around to head back up the stairs, I realized I didn’t kiss him hello when I took the food from him. (Fuck. Too late.) I walked up the stairs. (Slow deep breaths, but not too deep. I don’t want him to be able tell from behind or hear me trying to steady myself. I’m afraid it will set him off.) I set the food down and tried to kiss him. He turned to kiss me then pulled back with a look that I still can’t put my finger on, but I’m certain this was the moment he saw my fear manifest. He asked me what the look on my face meant. He was just trying to kiss me, and I was looking at him crazy. I apologized again. I told him that he seemed angry and I wasn’t sure if it was about the food or if something else happened. He just shook his head and huffed and turned away. For hours, he barely spoke or even looked at me. I sat quietly in a corner picking at the food. I tried asking what was bothering him. I tried to be affectionate. I tried to be sweet. I climbed behind him in his chair and wrapped myself around him willing his negative feelings to be sucked into me so that he wouldn’t feel this way. Nothing. He didn’t want to talk about it. I apologized and curled into myself a little more.

We laid down. We watched a show. Sex was clearly off the table. I’m still not sure if I was more relieved or saddened by it. Not because the sex even matters to me anymore, but because of what it means for my thoughts. The problem with knowing is that you can’t unknow. You can’t just pretend like you don’t know. Well, you can, but you’ll always know. And you’ll always know that you know. The energy you pour into trying to forget what you know or not let it bubble over will suck every ounce from you. I asked if we could have morning sex since it was clearly off the table. He said yes, and we went to bed. He fell asleep quickly while I tried to shut my mind down.

This morning, he got up and left me sleeping (not unusual). When I got up, he was delightful and chipper. He’d slept well and for a good length of time. We had coffee and maintained our virtual villages in our respective games. When I got up to start figuring out what to wear to work, he decided to take his shower. He got out and started getting dressed. I was picking up around our room and just looked at him. He stopped and asked why I was looking at him like that. I gestured to all of him and said, “No morning sex.” I shrugged, resigned, knowing it was always improbable anyway. Plus, there’s the whole relieved/saddened factor to control on my face. However, since I said something, he got undressed and came to the bed. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t get there. There wasn’t enough time. Morning sex failed. Relief. Sadness. Who will he have sex with instead today? Does it matter?

He managed to cramp his neck-shoulder area in the process of getting ready in a rush so then his day was off to a bad start before he even left the house. He explained that the stress of everything (still not sure what that means because) plus the pressure from me thinking that he doesn’t find me attractive is stressing him out. I apologized and told him I wasn’t trying to pressure him. He got annoyed and told me to stop apologizing all the time and left for work. I went upstairs and got ready for work and left.

When I arrived at work, there was a message waiting for me telling me how much he appreciates me and I’m his rock and he’s trying to fight his depression. (So glad he gets to fight his at the expense of mine.) How perfect I am for him (because I’m a doormat?). How he thanks me from the bottom of his heart that I stand by him and we’ll get through it and he won’t let me down anymore. (As you can see, I can’t even pretend to believe these things anymore so I’m grateful that they come through in text so I don’t have to try.) When I asked why it is he thinks he’s let me down, I mentioned rehab again or even just some meetings and a sponsor because I think they’ll help him navigate the struggles. He said he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. We’ll talk tonight. (We won’t. We never do. Now, he has ample time to think up with his excuses for why he doesn’t need it while he makes arrangements to get more supplies to feed his habits.) I apologized and told him I wasn’t trying to start anything. He said I wasn’t and that he just wants his best friend because yesterday was so rough and he wants to let go of the stress. (I don’t even know what this means anymore, but it translates at this point to me being a punching bag or a porn star.)

Diary, I miss my life. I miss myself. I miss… everything but him…

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