I fought with myself over this post. It’s hard for me to talk about this because it upsets me so much. But keeping it all inside is no different. It’s still there… making me feel shame, humiliation, embarrassment, and loneliness.
My husband is a nice guy. A good man.
He’s just not the right man for me.
I thought about ending the post right here, but I want to continue. And this will be long so feel free to bail now. No hard feelings.
I did have a stroke of genius, though. I will be splitting this post between H and I. This is part one… to be continued in my post for the letter I… which, lucky for you (ha), will also be today since I neglected to post H yesterday.
My husband has his moments. But he also has his moments, if you know what I mean. Okay, you probably don’t know what I mean. I will try to elaborate.
He does nice things. He takes care of us. He works a lot. Eleven or twelve hours a day sometimes. As I have not found a workable job since my layoff, we need whatever pay he can get. He doesn’t mind working overtime. I often wonder if simply he likes the time away from home. I don’t know and I’m not asking. He does like his job and coworkers, though.
He also takes care of us by being our tech support, our handyman, our trash guy. [You can laugh. That was supposed to be at least a little funny. But it’s true. This guy can fix anything. He has fixed phones, computers, tvs, washing machines, dryers, vacuums, dishwashers, you name it… and he takes out the trash.]
Like I said, he’s a good guy. For someone.
I’ve got this whole constantly-annoyed-by-his-presence thing. I need to come up with a name for it. The go-away factor? I don’t know if I can adequately explain this… but I will try.
I might be exaggerating a little. But…
Basically, everything he does irritates me. Everything about him annoys me.
The way he leaves his mail or his (clean, thank god) clothes on the bed. The way he belittles me even though I don’t think it’s intentional. [Or maybe it is. What the fuck do I know?] The way he laughs. The way he spends on things we don’t need. [Fuck, I am on fire inside when he does this. We, even the kids, don’t need more stuff… we need more experiences and great memories. Save up for those, dammit!] The way he falls asleep on the couch. The way he is so set in his ways. The way he hovers. [Just move the fuck on or say what you want. Don’t wait until I develop psychic abilities.] The way he acts like a know-it-all. The way he doesn’t listen to me. The way he says certain things. The way he leaves a dirty glass by the sink instead of putting it in the damn dishwasher. The way he drives. Every-fucking-thing. Annoys. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Me.
Big, little, significant, insignificant. Everything.
At night when he goes to the basement [his space… I hate the term ‘mancave’… gross], I’m glad. When he stays upstairs, I’m disappointed. When he falls asleep somewhere that’s not our bed, I’m glad. When he comes to bed, I’m disappointed.
And all of this… the whole go-away factor… it’s not entirely because of him (but mostly… heh). When you’re not in love with someone or maybe when you even start to not like them so much, every damn little thing drives you mad. Our relationship is just… not.
And for that, I am extremely annoyed.
With him, sure.
But also with myself.
[But he still needs to get the fuck out of my way.]
… to be continued …
p.s.— Remember this will be continued in my next post. God, this was hard to write and post. I feel so ashamed and embarrassed. Although the next one may be even worse. *hides*
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