The blame game

We haven't fought for a couple of days.  After our last blowout (where I released my inner ghetto and smacked him up while I held our baby) I decided I needed to get my shit together.  No matter how much I'm hurting it's not okay for me to hit him.  And it's certainly not okay to show our child such hatred.

But I can't stop thinking about the reason I saw red and lunged at him.  He called me selfish.  I was the selfish one.  He said if anyone was to blame for our problems it was me.  Me for not giving him what he needed.  Me for not allowing him to see the people he needs to in order to be more satisfied and fulfilled.

All.My.Fault.

I don't believe that.  But it still hurts.  I wonder why he's with me at all.  I wonder why I'm not enough.  I understand his sexual desires but I don't understand the emotional ones.  I don't understand how he can say he loves me and her at the same time, just in different ways.  I don't understand how his love for her doesn't take away from his love and commitment for me.

He refuses to see that even though he might feel perfectly fine with the situation, it alters the way I operate in our relationship.  I don't understand my role anymore.  I'm distant because I don't know how to be his partner.  I shut down because even though I'm trying to embrace this new life for the sake of our son, it's eating away at me.  This other woman that he "loves" - I hate her.  During our brief correspondence I saw nothing but selfishness and spite and conceit.  I wish he could see in her what I do.

I hate her more than I hate him.  I don't care what I did wrong.  I don't care how many times I fell down as a partner.  I was trying to be the best I knew how to be for R.  But how could I compete with a woman who has no stakes in the game?  There were zero consequences to her actions.  She could tell him whatever she wanted.  Meanwhile I'm planted in the real world.  A world where I have a child and a partner and problems to try to work through.  I've never had the luxury that she does.  So she's on a pedestal and I'm the selfish one for opposing it.

I question myself everyday about whether allowing him to continue with this lifestyle is right for me and our son.  But what really gets me is that I feel like she has won.  I hate that more than anything.  She wins and once again it's my fault.

He never has been able to answer me when I ask "why her?"  He's never been able to explain why she's so hard to give up.  He has no problem detailing all my shortcomings though.  And really, maybe that's the answer I don't want to see.  That he just doesn't really love me.

Making him happy

It's been a long time since I've seen R as happy as he was yesterday.  After a rough morning I officially told him I was done fighting his infidelity.  He was free to see who he wanted and I would go along with it.  I don't intend to break up our family.  Now, I don't think some sort of martyr.  I don't know what I am, really. I do know that I'm hurt and confused and I'm living with a man that I both love and hate at the same time.

He doesn't seem to get it.  Maybe he will see later what a big deal this is?  Right now he's just high on the freedom of being able to do what he wants without consequence.  He doesn't have to hide anything.  He's not going to miss his child's life.  He still gets me.  Or what's left of me right now.  

And that's the real problem, I think.  I'm not whole and he doesn't see it.  He was so sweet and lovey yesterday.  There were so many hugs and kisses.  He was extra helpful with the baby and around the house. He laughed and was jovial in a way I haven't seen in months.  Meanwhile I'm struggling just to keep it together.  I'm fighting the urge to pull back when he hugs me.  I keep my mouth shut when what I really want to do is scream at him and ask why he's only happy when he gets exactly what he wants.  

Why are you so selfish?  

I'm questioning my decision every second.  I'm trying to believe that this hurt I feel now is just the mourning of a life I'll never get and that I will find a way to settle into this new life.  I have no way to know if that's true right now.  I just hope I have enough sense to walk away if I continue to hurt like this.  I hope he realizes that while I'm not a martyr, I'm making a huge sacrifice for him and our family.  

I don't think he recognizes it at all.  Or he doesn't recognize it in the right way.  Him hugging me like everything is normal isn't going to make everything okay again.  Washing a few dishes isn't going to erase my pain.  

If I'm being honest, I'm mad that he's happy.  I think he should feel terrible that he put me in this position in the first place.  Instead he seems totally at ease while I'm dying on the inside.  I wish he were miserable.  I wish he was the one crying in the bathroom with the faucet running.  I wish he was the one who's avoiding calls because he's afraid he won't be able to talk to family or friends without losing it.  

Can I do this?  Do I even want to?  I don't know.  I'm not giving up after one rough day.  But I want to.  

Better off dead

I hardly know where to start.  There's so much back story with my relationship with R that it would take thousands and thousands of words to get you up to speed.  I'll give you the short version.  We met online in 2009.  Neither was looking for a relationship.  I'd just got out of a bad one and he was still married, but going through a divorce.  We were leaning on each other as friends and it developed into more.

I knew from the beginning he had certain sexual compulsions, and I was okay with it.  Being a freak in bed is not a negative in my book.  But it was more than that, and I didn't know it.  When I found out he was having indiscriminate sex with other women (and men) I lost it.  I tried to end it.  But we were drawn back to each other.  We worked through things, moved in to together and eventually had a beautiful baby boy.

Just after our son was born we moved to a new state for a better job opportunity and it was not long after that I learned he was carrying on a relationship with a woman that was more than just physical.  He was in love with her and wanted the freedom to see her and be a family with me and our son.  He wanted a polyamorous relationship.

That revelation left me a devastated wreck.  Why wasn't I good enough?  How could I fix this?  What would this do to our child?  I gave him a choice.  End things with the other woman and get counseling with me or I would leave our relationship.  He agreed.

Well, it didn't end.  I found a notebook that he was using as a sort of journal where he detailed their continued correspondence.  In the last entry he wrote how he sometimes wishes I'd just die so could take our son and be with her.

I don't think he really wants me dead.  I'm not fearful for my life.  But I make him unhappy.  I'm not what he wants and I'm not sure how we ever made it this far in our relationship.

Once again I was prepared to leave.  But then I looked into my son's sweet face and wondered how I was going to break up our family.  I realized that unless R left me, I wouldn't leave him.  So I told him he was free to see and have sex with anyone he wanted.  I wouldn't stop him and I would stay here as his partner and the mother of his son.

It has been a decision wrought with doubt and pain.  I've had moments where I wonder if this life really will kill me.  But I'm soldiering on.  I'm trying to make it work.  I'm trying to make peace with my decision.  This is my story.