Saturday night, as you were able to decipher from my last entry, I was really depressed. I told Jamie to be home at 2, and at 2:47 am, he waltzes in with McDonalds. I was so irritated, but inrightfully so, so I decided to keep my mouth shut to save me from saying something mean. But Jamie just kept bugging me and bugging me. I kept telling him I didn't want to talk. But he just kept pressing me.
Suddenly, he got annoyed and kept called me a "fucking bitch". I found this VERY offensive, and despite me telling him over again not to call me that, he proceeded. So I did something I've never done to anyone: I slapped him. I got up from the couch and tried to walk away from the stunned look in his eyes. Things have never turned to this. He grabbed me by the wrist and threw me with all his might onto the couch. A fire sparked between us and we wrestled for 20 minutes. Me screaming at him and him telling me calm down and talk, all the while holding me down with all his strength.
I was so taken aback by his reaction--and honestly, I was really scared too--that all I knew to do was to struggle. To get away. I hated being in this position. The position where I couldn't escape...but more so, the position where I wanted to escape from someone I love. I finally got away and ran into the bathroom. He followed me and locked us in. I was hysterical.
I felt like a prisoner. I felt like this frail little creature that was being controlled by force. He wouldn't let me out until we talked, but I was still too hysterical to talk. I kept saying "let me out!" and he wouldn't. I kept saying "leave me alone!" and he couldn't. Then he started to call me crazy. Asking me why I was acting the way I was. I was SO stunned at the thought that he had no idea why I was upset. That he completly disregarded the last half hour of him holding me down and wrestling me. I was SO so confused and angry and hazey. He kept telling me how he thought I was going crazy and how he doesn't see me anymore--he just sees this edgy, stressed, crazy person. And then, for a second, I started to think maybe I WAS crazy. Which, was even scarier.
Finally, I pressed myself out of the bathroom and into the living room again. Jamie stormed after me. And then it went from bad to worse. That night opened up Pandora's box.
It started very harshly. "Maybe we should split up then! I've been holding it in for such a long ass time, but I haven't been happy. You've been a manipulative bitch practically the entire time we've been together. I can't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth most the time. I thought I could get over what happened, but I don't think I can." Then I broke. I softened to his bitter words. He told me he doesn't feel bonded to me anymore. He doesn't feel inspired by me. Connected to me. Passionate for me. I felt like a fool. I thought we were doing well, but a lot of the time, he wasn't happy. It KILLED me to know that he doesn't feel the same way I do. He doesn't feel complete. He looks at me and he doesn't see the girl I used to be to him. He sees the lies. He sees the deciet. What kind of wife is that? What kind of LIFE is that?
It was the hardest thing ever, but I told him that if he didn't think he could get over what I did and trust me again, than he probably should go. Each word felt like a thousand tiny pins in my heart. But how could I beg him to stay? How could I beg him to stay in that situation? Ask him to stay for me when he isn't as happy as he could me just so I wouldn't have to go through the pain of losing him?
Well, lets say it ended on a good note. A hopeful one, at least. He wants to try. He said he still loves me very much and he is actually happy a lot of the time, but we need to bond again. We need to get our intensity back.
I went to bed that night in his arms--but, they didn't feel like his arms. They felt like the arms of a completly seperate person. They felt like arms that were holding me b/c of obligation...not because of love.
Since then, we've seemed ok. Although sometimes I wonder if we just try to be ok because its easier than dealing. I want us to go to a counseler but he won't agree to it. We had awesome sex last night..but ever since Saturday, I feel SO insecure. I just want to FEEL him again. Feel that he's with me because he WANTS to be. Not that I'm something he's stuck with. He says he feels better about things, and my main goal in life now is to make him happy. But am I ever going to trust it? How can I ask him to see the good in me again when I don't see the good in myself? I really messed things up. Even if he doesn't leave me, I am stained by this forever.
But we are trying. We are going away to a bed and breakfast in Geneva..which is a big wine place in Ohio..on Thursday. My sister is watching Marci for us. And I was thinking about finding something we can do together. Like a fun class or something. Maybe a yoga class. Our existences are much too seperate. I need to fix that.
My #1 priority is to make Jamie feel like this is worth it. To make him feel that I am worth it. I want to get our passion back. I want to inspire him again.
I'm so tired of being a mess.