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21 July, 2013

Hubby had wanted some “together time” and when I seemed reluctant pushed for answers as to why.

I could hear his psychologist, K, in his pushy questioning. I later found out she suggested to him to move out as the situation was futile. He refused.

We got up for the day though, spent a morning in the markets and having breakfast with our daughter. Hubby bought some meat and rather than continue at a relaxed pace through the market he went straight back to the car while daughter and I moseyed back.

Home with some DVDs shopping and hubby planned going for a short run with me doing my first one to start training for my marathon in April 2014 (knees permitting).

It was during Oz, the Great and Powerful (not a brilliant movie btw) that I felt sleepy though so I declined the run.

In the evening hubby wanted to talk about the morning though. How I pushed him away. Supposedly thrown the past in his face (not the past I was thinking of though).

Next thing we hear a commotion inside as our daughter and middlest are fighting over TimTam biscuits.

I flipped. Went in to sort them out and the middlest had his butt facing me so I kicked it. He grabbed my foot though and upended me.

They at least stopped fighting when I told him she’d asked for one and he hadn’t. Hubby didn’t see this altercation it would seem. He was just hurt I’d walked off on him.

I was so upset by the fight though I went outside to sit, cry and sit some more. I wanted to disappear. Go into a hole and never come back.

I didn’t want hubby getting involved. I didn’t want him defending me. I wasn’t upset at him but I was upset. The middlest was again unrepentant.

As usual hubby went to bed early to do whatever on his iPad in bed rather than staying up. (He said to me today he doesn’t stay down because he hurts too much.)

This morning I dropped kids out to friends and hubby had his sailing cancelled so brought the eldest home to drum.

When I got back hubby and the eldest had the daughter’s pizza in the oven (they didn’t know she didn’t eat any other pizza apparently).

It was when I was in the kitchen that hubby lashed out at me for it “being his fault” that they were eating the wrong pizza. I hadn’t even said a word!

The eldest then yelled at hubby saying he was sick of being caught in the middle of all our bitching and fighting.

I honestly didn’t know what I’ve done to deserve the grudge being held over from yesterday.

Instead of running away like I wanted to do I made pumpkin soup. Hubby came over to me and drew me aside. He was hurt from yesterday. He apologised for yelling this morning when I’d got home.

He said he’s a talker. I’m not. He pushed because otherwise I don’t talk. I know in the relationship that we’ve had a turn around in gender types. He talks like a girl. I’m silent like a man.

He thinks the past hurts are from him showing an interest in other women. I’m hurt because of how he disconnected from me when the boys were young. I was basically a single parent with him disconnected as a father.

I told him things close to my heart and they’d be used against me in fights. I told him about my family and he’d throw it in my face later.

He manipulated arguments and I would be forever rendered mute. Do this enough over the years and the love died somewhere along the way for me and I have to make a conscious decision to stay in the relationship in that deeper level of love and commitment rather than the mushy love he seems to have for me.

He says he feels like he’s dying inside but I died a long time ago. He said I blamed him on my depression and then blamed work. He doesn’t understand how I can chop and change and how it can still be him.

I don’t know how to revive a dead love for this man. I find faults so easily and have to try and not get bitter by them.

For instance… Yesterday our dirty washing basket was moved out of our wardrobe to just outside our wardrobe behind our door. I hit the basket when I went through the door. I didn’t do the washing.

This morning the washing basket has made its way down the hallway (by him) to the bottom of the steps up to the laundry room. The washing still isn’t done.

It’s this passive way that he has of avoiding things. Ordinarily I might have picked up after him and put the wash on.

He’s like it with food too. Waiting until someone else is preparing food and he’d say “I’d like some if you’re having it”. He doesn’t ask.

I know it’s a learnt behaviour but lately I’ve pushed back to force him to ask rather than this passive way of wanting. The result of not responding to his passive request though is him sulking.

The sulking then leads to this bitterness that rises instead. How does a grown man become such a child?! How did I not see how he really was when we met, when I was too needy myself to know any bloody better!

I tell you what though I would tell myself to grow up if I’d to do it again. I tell my kids to know who they are before getting involved in relationships.

Soup’s done. I’m done.


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