Y13 D358

One week. One week and it will be a new year. Again the irony of the timing of all that is happening to me is not lost. It just shows how cosmically fucked up the universe can be. What you thought we were going to let you be happy? Ha. Stupid human. Here, take this slap in the face.

One week and I will be out of this house for a break. Also ironic.

So yesterday was more fucking talking. And solidifying these things are really happening. That this is what life is going to be like moving forward. That my partner and I will not be having sex and that we will be having sexual relations outside of our marriage. We started discussing more boundaries and what not. The more we talk and the more tangible it becomes, the more my stomach ties in knots, my head hurts, and I get scared. Very scared. One thing I keep trying to remind myself is that this isn't about humiliation or failure. It's not. Neither of us wants to rub the other's face in what we do. Neither of us wants to limit or stop the other from having outside relations. But it still hurts. It still feels like a slap. But why? It's not like we have had a good sex life. If we had then this would be more shocking. We haven't. So fix it. But here's the thing gentle reader that most of you don't get probably. BOTH of us have changed our physical appearance over the last few years. I look more and more female. I wear more feminine clothes. I have long blonde hair. They have cut their hair short. They wear more flannels and binders. They are stoned most of the time. They burp and scratch themselves like a teenage boy. No wonder we're not attracted to the other. No wonder we can't find any sexual spark between us. We're not looking at the same person from 10 years ago. At least not physically. Under the outer is the same person. The person whose emotions, pains, joys, ideals that we fell in love with, those are still there. And that's what is keeping us together.

Don't get me wrong, there's still a BIG part of me that wants to say get the fuck out of MY house. Leave MY car in the garage. No you don't get MY furniture. I have contributed 99% of everything to this relationship for 10 years. You don't get to walk out the door with a bonus prize. Take your sexual needs and go. I really do. But I can't. Why? Because I am so afraid of being alone, being unloved, that I would rather go into this mess than face that.

There it is.

I finally get to talk to my therapist. B is gone for 2 days. I have a friend date tonight. Just going to try and keep calm for the next 72 hours. Maybe I won't go insane or jump off a bridge. Maybe.