I’m reading that 2003 notebook, realizing how this has been going on way too long for me still to be here! It makes me ashamed of myself, embarrassed, as if I’ve been a stupid fool who should’ve known better.
And the more days that go by with no affection shown between us unless I instigate it, the clearer it starts to look.
It’s not that I don’t love Fella; I do. But it’s not enough. There is fighting for love when it is endangered, and then there is showing love to someone every day. The latter is where, as far as I am concerned, we have not made good use of the years we’ve had together. He will always choose to hurry out the door rather than take two minutes to hold me in his arms when I approach him with affection, hoping to make a loving connection.
This is understandable. I too have difficulty changing my focus from accomplishing something to remembering what we’re here for in this moment, for even a moment. Remembering who’s important to each of us— who, if they were gone, would be sorely, sadly missed.
I have asked him over and over to put our loving relationship first. He won’t, or can’t.
Not doing so is wasting our time. We could both be experiencing so much love from each other, and instead he is frustrating himself with his misplaced ambition and I am distancing myself from his unkind outbursts and dismissive behaviour.
Sure we can go on as we are, but I don’t know why we bother. Our emotional connection is becoming bleaker and bleaker.
Our lives barely intersect. We function as a couple in a practical way, but if I’m going to be with a man, I’d like it to contain more than that. I want to love and be loved, and not just play house.
Perhaps I’ve arrived at an age or a phase of life when I have to accept that I’m not any man’s object of romantic interest anymore, and it’s time to focus on other passions more than I do. I’ve been aware of this necessity for years already and have never relied on a relationship to make my life worth living, so why am I reluctant to give up the constant hope?
I look from my spot on the couch to his on the loveseat in the evening. A few feet away, yet I am completely alone.
From a book I’m reading, The Little Shadows by Marina Endicott:
“It’s a long time since we’ve been at the mercy of a man’s temper, Aurora thought, surprised at the thought. She looked at Mayhew, searching for signs that he was worth it.”