First fight of the new togetherness

Hubby came home last week. It's been fantastic to have him home, and he likes the changes I've made. Unfortunately, I wasn't done with the redecorating, and the house was messy when he came home - this is something that frustrated him before he left, because even though it was ten times worse when he left as it is now, it's still messy. He seems to be feeling better, but he's been frustrated because he wants to clean, he wants to contribute to the running of his own house, but he's not sure where to start. Plus, when he came home, he decided that the couch no longer exists, so he can't fall back into old patterns, but within the last couple of days he's been spending a little time here and there on "the couch that doesn't exist."

Today, I called in to work. I'm starting to get really anxious about the lack of productivity and the couch thing, and there you have it. I thought we'd have a nice day, beautiful weather, getting the house finished and presentable...

Yeah, April-Fools-pranked myself on that one.

HUGE fight.

See, we're just starting to dip our toes into a little light BDSM. He's got a very dominant personality, and I like a nice spanking every now and then. But what I don't like is talking about my sex life to people I don't know. I'm okay doing it here because it's semi-anonymous, but in public? No thanks. And last weekend at the bar, a drunk guy told hubby he needed a spanking. Hubby blew it off, but the guy said it a few more times, and hubby said "I don't get the spankings, I'm the one who gives them out."

Sorry, no dice. I'm one of those people who will discuss pretty much any sexual topic, I'm fairly educated on many of them, I have no problem with what anyone else does as long as it's all between consenting adults, I'm very sex-positive and think that people shouldn't be embarrassed to admit what they like if directly asked. And I don't know if this will make any sense at all, but there's a difference between telling people what you like and telling them exactly what you DO. MY sex life is something that I don't want discussed in public. And that's MY prerogative. That's MY boundary. And from what I understand about BDSM so far, boundaries are important. But hubby doesn't necessarily see it that way. He doesn't see anything wrong with what he said and he thinks I'm blowing it out of proportion. And at one point in the argument, I did blow it out of proportion by making it sound like he was going to take out a billboard ad, advertising the fact that he spanks me and I like it. But seriously? I just want some things in our life to be between us. And even though it could have been construed as a joke, it wasn't a joke because it is our life and it annoyed me and I was uncomfortable.

But 15 minutes after I apologized for blowing it up, he was still berating me for accusing him of something he hadn't done, and unfortunately for me, I was becoming incredibly frustrated. Also unfortunately for me, when I get extremely frustrated, I tend to throw things. Which just makes me look like I'm being a completely irrational banshee, but is really just my signal that something or someone is really frustrating me and I feel like I'm not being understood.

I hate that that's my reaction to frustration, because then he stats calling me crazy. I feel like I'm nuts enough for being medicated, unable to control my anxiety and depression and need both a psychiatirst and a therapist (my insurance requires both). I know he didn't mean it, but calling me crazy is just a low blow.

If this doesn't speak volumes...

To me, horoscopes are just for fun, and always entertaining when something hits right on the money, but this got me. A friend of mine is the same sign as my husband, and this is their horoscope for today:

You are in a period of change and editing, and this will play a role in your romantic affairs today. You are going through a time where the realization is upon you that the changes need to come from within if you want to see success in your romantic goals. These changes may simply involve something as simple as a new haircut or a wardrobe update, and this will give you a sense of confidence to pursue your romantic dreams with the energy you need. Or, you may need to make some changes at the internal level, and a period of reflection today will help you with the clarity you need to make long lasting changes with your emotional experiences. The changes you start today are only the beginning, as you can expect a period of growth that will bode very well in terms of the big picture on the romantic front.

Wow.

He's still hoping to be home by this weekend. Fingers crossed.

Little surprises

We spoke last night, and he said that a little birdie told him I wouldn't be working today, and that he'd love to have lunch with me after his doctor appointment today. It was actually yesterday that I was off, and he sounded disappointed. I started having anxiety issues, knowing he'd be in town and I wouldn't be able to see him. So I called in and surprised him - I went to his doctor's office and was sitting in his car waiting for him when he got out. We had a nice time together, a nice lunch, some car snuggle time, and - get this - no tears when we parted ways. He said he's feeling a little better, and it was so nice to see him a little more content than he was last time we got together, and it was so nice to be able to spend some time together, knowing that this whole thing is almost over (he's thinking it might just be another week or so). It gives us both just the right amount of time - I have some projects left to do at home, and he has some projects left to do at his mom's house (she's been putting him to work, LOL).

I'm more optimistic than I've been in a while, and it feels so good.

Michael Buble really spoke to me today:

Life can show no mercy
It can tear your soul apart
It can make you feel like you've gone crazy but you're not
Things have seemed to change
There's one thing that's still the same
In my heart you have remained
And we can fly fly fly away

'Cause you are not alone
And I am there with you
And we'll get lost together
Until the light comes pouring through
It's when you feel like you're done
And the darkness has won
Babe, you're not lost
And the world's crashing down
And you can not bear the cross
I said, baby, you're not lost

Keeping perspective

He says misses me. He says he wants to see me. But within 24 hours after I told him when I was available, he made other plans at those times/on those days.

Not about me, not about me, not about me.

I understand that him being away is what he needs to do for himself, and I understand that my feelings are not all he needs to be considering right now.

Not about me, not about me, not about me.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt that we haven't seen each other in over a week (very unusual for us), but he chose to make other plans at the times I was available.

Not about me, not about me, not about me.

He's told me that I'm being incredibly awesome about the whole thing and that he will owe me so much when this is done. He appreciates everything I'm doing.

Not about me, not about me, not about me.

I'm grateful that he recognizes this is hard for me, too, and that I'm stepping up and doing the best I can with the cards I've been dealt.

Providing additional perspective is the ordeal a friend of mine is going through - she took her daughter and left her husband tonight after finding something on his computer he'd promised her he was over. I feel guilty that her horrible situation is what's giving me perspective, but I'm so thankful we don't have children in the mix right now. He thinks that if we had a child/children that this may not have happened, but we can never be 100% sure.

Just say hi. Please?

I know, I know, I know this is not my deal. He's gone so he can work on himself. But I can't pretend his absence doesn't affect me. Almost as bad as bedtime is when I text him and don't get a response for hours, if at all.

Maybe about 3 months ago, he and I had a fight about whether it's common courtesy to at least send a response text, especially to your spouse, regardless of whether or not it addresses any question that's been posed. He said something that is very similar to a line in one of my favorite Van Morrison songs:

And if you never hear from me
That just means I would rather not

Thanks, Van. So, can you tell me why my husband doesn't want to send me a response text? He'd mentioned in that same fight that sometimes he just doesn't feel like responding. I have a feeling I know why - in his mind, that fight wasn't about my expectation of common courtesy from the person who's supposed to love me most in the world, it was about me trying to control him. It doesn't matter what I say, there's just so much that he sees as me trying to control him. And since the past couple of months have been quite a bit about how he feels I always try to have control over everything, and how part of this time away from home has been about him trying to recapture the independence he feels it's been so long since he had, I think this is him trying to have some independence and control.

Aren't there ways to gain control of your life that don't involve something so petty as ignoring your wife when she's trying to talk to you? Every time he chooses not to respond, out of some sort of notion that I'm trying to control him by not thinking some common courtesy is too much to ask from my spouse, I really wonder if he knows how that chips away at my ability to be able to rely on him. If I can't count on him to even acknowledge that I've made an attempt to communicate with him, what can I count on him for?

The combination of a ring and a piece of paper doesn't mean you can throw courtesy and respect for one another out the window, in fact, it means there should be more. And I'm feeling incredibly disrespected. I really hope this is just a symptom of what's been eating at him for the last few months, because if this is going to be a permanent fixture of his independence, that will definitely be a problem.

Feeling ungrateful

Thanks to the help of some awesome friends, there are now curtains on every window of the apartment, the bathroom is freshly painted and I have a new medicine cabinet assembled and hung. The apartment is really starting to come together. I'm waiting on the delivery of a new headboard and two of those end tables that double as cat pan covers, and I would really like to do some painting in the dining room and bedroom. I'm turning our place into a home. All of this should make me happy. But it's not even coming close.

I just want my Pumpkin. :(

Getting there

We ended up having lunch together. Before we went into the restaurant, we had a nice, long conversation in the parking lot. We frequently have our best conversations in the car for some reason, and it went well. I need to stay focused on the fact that this is not so much about me as it about his need to figure himself out and establish some more independence. When he was still living with his parents (before we met), he was more than happy to let his mom take care of his affairs - he really couldn't have cared less, and it made her feel better to do it. When we got together, I was more than happy to take over where she was leaving off, so he's never really done a whole lot in that regard. For example, it's only in maybe the last five years that he's started making his own doctor appointments. And me trying to maintain some control freaks him out because he wants to start doing things for himself.

Once we got inside, it was just so nice to be able to spend some time talking to him that I didn't actually mind that I didn't care for my food - I was out with my husband after five days of not seeing him. It was so nice to see him and be able to hug him and kiss him, but it was so hard to go home without him. I bawled most of the way home, and for a few minutes after I got home.

I have high hopes for this coming week - higher than I probably should. After a long, dreary winter, it is supposed to be sunny and in the high 40s/low 50s. Spring is on the way, and it's his favorite season. My husband + outside + nice early spring weather = Awesome moods and an improved outlook. Every year. I should start calling him my little crocus - at the end of winter/beginning of spring, he pokes his head up, looks toward the sun, and just shines. I'm really hoping the upcoming week will do him worlds of good.

As far as redecorating goes, I have a bunch of supplies, with some more on the way. I bought the paint for the bathroom this afternoon - leave it to a foodie to find a paint color named after food. Within the next couple of days, the bathroom will have a couple of fresh coats of "Fresh Biscotti."

I'm having some girlfriends over this weekend, and rather than us going out for dinner, I'll be making something yummy and healthy. Hopefully one of them will bring wine. ;)

Going to bed alone is still the hardest, and I go back to work on Monday. We'll see how that goes. I'm not really feeling up to it, but I'm out of paid leave, and I guess I have to go back sometime.

Routing Error

I can't win. I just can't fucking win.

When he was complaining about lack of DVR and decent internet at his mom's house, and I told him he wasn't there to watch TV and surf the web all day, he was fine with that. He was even glad I said it.

I'm meeting him for lunch in a little while, and he texted me to ask that I bring the wireless router. I texted back "this concerns me. Please promise me that this will not slow down the process. I'm scared that you're just going to lay in bed all day."

Now suddenly, he's all pissed, thinking I'm trying to control what he does with his time, dragging out his classic line "I'm not going to promise you anything - you either trust me or you don't." God, I hate that line, it's such a fucking cop-out. I started crying and he said "oh this is going to be fun. Look, are you sure you want to do this?" I said of course I did, did he? "Not if you're going to be a big blubbery mess in public."

He's the one who wanted to do it in public in the first place. He was afraid that if he came home, he wouldn't be able to conjure up the will to leave. I just want to see my husband. Apparently, his desire to see me comes with conditions.

We have a line around here co-signing each others' bullshit, essentially, not allowing the other to get away with dumb stuff. Why do I have a feeling that in order for my husband to get better, I'm going to have to co-sign some bullshit for a while?

The fifth night is the hardest?

I has a big, giant sad tonight. I don't know what it is, the longer this goes on, the sadder I feel at night. He left on Friday, so tonight will mark my fifth night sleeping alone. My fifth night of no snuggles, my fifth night without our bedtime rituals.

I've been relatively okay until now. Sure, after he left, I threw myself on the bed and bawled my eyes out for a while. But save for a few tears here and there (mostly thanks to the Radio Heartbreak Squad, the bastards), and last night's banking fiasco (for which he apologized again), I've been... okay... not necessarily un-okay... coping as best I can. But tonight, night number five, I can't seem to stop the waterworks from flowing. Maybe it's because I saw my psychiatrist today and I'm a little raw, maybe it's because I went to Costco and bought stuff that I guess turned out to be what I would buy for myself if I was living alone (which, for all intents and purposes, I am). Whatever the reason, I has a hugely painful, lonely sad.

I haven't been sleeping particularly well since this started. Heck, I haven't been sleeping particularly well for a few months now. The psych gave me something to help me sleep. I have a feeling the only help I'll need in that department tonight will come from my extra helping of tears.

How little it takes these days...

He told me on Thursday night that he was going to leave on Friday. Just when I'd gotten used to Saturday, another day was gone. I understood why he needed to do it - by sitting at home for another day, he was just prolonging the inevitable. We actually had a nice day on Friday. I helped him pack, I cried, we snuggled and talked about how much it was going to suck. He mentioned that he'd be lost without his DVR and wireless internet. Without even thinking, I blurted out "you're not doing this so you can lay around and do the same 'nothing' you've been doing here, you're doing this so you can work your stuff out and get healthy." I immediately wished I hadn't said it, thinking he'd be pissed at me, but he acknowledged that I was absolutely right and he was glad I said it, because it needed to be said.

I helped him bring his stuff to the car, and after a few lingering hugs and kisses, I watched him drive away. I went back inside and bawled for about 10 minutes, then dusted myself off, emailed a few friends who know the story (I've since opened up to a few friends, and they've been incredibly supportive), and got to setting the house in order (it's been trashed).

I've been a little lonely, but I've been keeping busy with housework, errands and laundry. We've only spoken on the phone once, but texted more than usual (usual = rarely, but this is at least an improvement and I'll take it).

So when I saw his cell phone number on the caller ID, I got excited, thinking we'd have a nice conversation. But... notsomuch.

Oy. Allow me to provide a little backstory:

So, I do all the finances. Including both of our personal accounts. He had never really used his personal account, he'd just been using the debit card from the joint account, so when he got the debit card for his personal account, I asked him if he wanted me to set up his online banking and he said yes.

Last week, I went to transfer some money from one sub-account to another within our main joint account and accidentally transferred it into his personal account. So I logged into his personal account and transferred it back to the joint account (minus some money that I was leaving in there for him to spend while he was gone).

Enter today's phone call...

Thinking he was just calling to say hi and have a chat, I was so happy to answer the phone. Unfortunately, the first words out of his mouth were an angry spew - "what were you doing in my account and why did you take money out of it," and his tone suggested he was accusing me of stealing money from him. He said he had deposited money into his account and now some of it was gone. I explained what happened, and he sounded like he didn't believe me. And apparently he forgot the conversation where he wanted me to set up his online account (he frequently forgets stuff like that, which is all the more frustrating), because THEN he asked me why I'd set up his online banking and told me that it was creepy that I'd been in his account, even to correct an error I'd made.

Ugh.

I'd been doing so much better than I expected. I'd barely even shed a tear since he left. I'm sure staying focused on the house has had quite a bit to do with that, but still, it's something. But that conversation left me bawling again. He apologized for sounding like he was yelling at me, he said he was just surprised - and not in a good way - and that he just doesn't want me having access to his personal account. I can understand that, but why so upset about it that he has a reaction that makes me feel two inches tall, regardless of his intent?

I just want my fun, fun-loving, goofy husband back.

I picked up a copy of Rage Against the Meshugenah at the library today. I think I need to dive in - there's so little out there about male depression. I need insight.

The latest

I need to go in a different direction with this blog for the time being. Something about me being married but living single in quasi-limbo.

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Husband told me tonight that he needs to "go away" for a while. He's been dealing with some pretty bad depression and had his soul sucked into the couch for months now. Even before he lost his job, all he did other than work was lay on the couch.

He knows none of this has been easy on me, and he's having a hard time trying to get his own shit together without worrying about how it's going to affect me in general or us as a couple. He needs to get his head sorted out, and it's just not happening with him on the couch all the time.

He's going to go stay with his mom for a while and see if he can work out his problems in his head. I had a feeling this might come - heck, I even thought of suggesting it myself - but the whole thing is uncertain. We're still married, we still love each other, we're still each others' best friends, he's not "leaving me," but he's leaving our home for an as-yet-to-be-determined period of time (days? weeks? months? He mentioned something about spring, but neither of us have any idea) to see if he can figure out what he wants and needs. We'll talk, but I'll essentially be a married-but-single crazy cat lady running the house by myself for a while.

This is so hard - I've been bawling so hard I can't see straight. I don't get it. This is something I was going to suggest!! So why can't I stop crying?

He thinks he'll probably leave on Saturday, I'm going to see if I can take next week off to transition. I see my therapist tomorrow, I wonder if I can have him talk to my psychiatrist about maybe having the week covered by FMLA if I can't get it off as personal time. Oy.

Irony

We're communicating more now than we have in years. It's kind of turning me on, which is a HUGE development for me - it's been a looooong time since I've been this interested in sex. And sex is one of the big things at the heart of the relationship problems we're having right now. Progress, right?

Not quite.

I'm miserable in the head, sick in the heart, owie in the tummy, but longing in the pants. And now that I'm actually interested, he's not, because he's miserable, too.

Not that I don't understand, because I think part of the reason I wasn't interested in sex was because I didn't feel like we were close. When we were both home at the same time, we sat in different rooms doing different things. We didn't do a lot together because it seemed like we were always broke. I didn't feel like I had a partner, I felt like I had a roommate. A roommate who wasn't interested in me beyond having someone to hang out with after work and on the weekend. I wasn't feeling respected, wanted, loved. And not that I specifically felt that I was being disrespected, unwanted or unloved, it was more a feeling I had that he was indifferent toward me. A feeling I had that if I was to disappear, that the only time he would notice would be a vague sense of "something's not right" at night when the bed was empty.

I'm sure he'd had the same feeling about me - that I was indifferent toward him. I can't say for sure which of us started feeling that way first, maybe it's a conclusion we reached at the same time. I just don't know. But since we've been communicating, the sense of indifference is gone. I'm not sure what it's been replaced by, but right now, at this very moment, I'm not 100% sure I care - it might be love, it might be hate, it might be frustration, it might be anger, sadness, despair, love, hope, faith, whatever... it's not indifference. And that lack of indifference in turn leads me to want to be intimate. Because there's a feeling there. We're feeling something for each other. Feelings make me feel a ton better than indifference.

But it seems to me that he hasn't yet been able to bridge the gap from anger/sadness/frustration to closeness, so he's not feeling it. I know that everyone's different and that some things take longer for people to feel than others, but with the lack of intimacy in our relationship being a big part of why he's been unhappy, I can't help but feel like I can't win.

Radio Heartbreak Squad

Let me introduce you to the Radio Heartbreak Squad. They're the folks behind the evil conspiracy that says when you're having a rough go of it, the exact wrong song will come on at exactly the wrong time. If you're plugging along, blissfully ignorant, it brings up all sorts of feelings you don't want to think about. If you're already upset, it just leads you further into despair.

Ironically, I was introduced to the squad by my husband, when we were first "dating." And by "dating," I mean "saying sappy things to each other via email and getting to know each other over the phone" during the 4 months between the time we met online and the time I moved here. He was driving to meet some friends, and thinking of how nice it would have been had I been in the car with him. A song came on, I can't remember which one he said it was, and it just made him depressed that I was so far away.

Anyhoo...

Last night, I brought up how he told me a few weeks ago, that the night he told me he was attracted to his coworker, that she had been the one to throw herself at him. I told him how I'd found a message board she posts on where she posted that it had been him who tried to kiss her. And that I needed to know that while we were trying to figure out where this is going, that I needed to know that we were being completely honest with each other. I needed to know I could trust him to not engage in any infidelity.

He got annoyed, told me that it's not up to him to say, that I either trust him or I don't. I asked for a promise. He he could promise, but didn't feel like I would believe him anyway, so what good was it?

He never came to bed last night. First time in years. In my heart, I know he needs time to sort his stuff out too, that we both need time to figure things out - but who says rational thought absolutely has to make us feel better about something? I woke up about an hour before my alarm was to go off, and he was still on the couch. I woke him up and made him go to bed. I couldn't fall back asleep due to the pit of anxiety in my stomach, so I got up. The thought of going in to work made me throw up (or rather, dry heave, since there was nothing in there to get rid of) so I called in sick. I slept fitfully for a few more hours, then got up.

Thinking that I wouldn't think about things if I was being productive, I started to clean the kitchen. Once again, the pit of anxiety in my stomach gave me pause. I watched some TV, then decided to try again. I like to listen to music while I'm cleaning, so I turned on the TV and switched it to one of the Music Choice stations. The song that was on kicked me in the gut.

I Can't Make You Love Me.

I cried for a while, loaded the dishwasher, then went to wake him up - he'd been in bed for 8 hours since I'd gotten him up off the couch. He rubbed my arm, then saw that I'd been crying. He asked what was wrong, and I told him that the Radio Heartbreak Squad had gotten me. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe some sympathy from my best friend. Instead, he withdrew his arm, rolled over and said nothing. I left the room.

He's since gotten up and has gone from laying in bed to laying on the couch. Hasn't said a word to me. And here I sit, crying on and off, pit of anxiety in my stomach seething as ever. I've been awake on and off since 7AM. Eight and a half hours later, having eaten nothing, normally I'd have come close to passing out from lightheadedness. Yet the thought of food just turns my stomach even more.

"They" say it gets worse before it gets better. I love my husband. I want to make our marriage work. I just don't know how much of this I can take along the way. I don't want to give up the fight. I just hope I have enough fight left in me.

Hopeful

Lest anyone think from my past post that we're headed straight for a divorce filing, we hashed out quite a bit of stuff, and we came to the conclusion that we have too much time, too much love, too many memories to not fight for our relationship.

Big changes will be coming about around here. On both sides. But since I'm the one with all the neuroses, a lot of them will be on my end. And not just to save my marriage - I need to be a better person. I need to stop being scared. I need to stop being paranoid.

I hope it all works.

I guess beggars can't be choosers.

The night before I wrote that last post, I went on my husband's phone and read his texts and Twitter account. Yes, I was paranoid, yes I was wrong.

A few hours after I wrote that post, he said these words: "I think I'm done."

I asked what led him to that conclusion, and he said "what you did last night. I've never given you reason to be that distrustful of me."

I'd explained pretty much everything I said in that post, and he didn't take it any further. No validation of the fact that he'd made it sound an awful lot like there might be future infidelity. But he didn't fight me on it either, which for him, might as well be validation.

Funny thing is, when I told my therapist that hubby said "I've never given you reason to be that distrustful of me," my therapist's reaction was "do you really believe that?" I told him I didn't, and he acknowledged that he could definitely see why I might feel that way.

Actual validation!! It's been so long since I've had actual validation of the way I feel.

I don't want to talk to my girlfriends about our issues, because they're all friends with him, too. I don't want to talk to my friends at work, because we're friends-but-not-THOSE-kind. Plus, they don't know him and I don't want my venting to turn into "wow, her husband's a real dick." I don't want to talk to my sister about it because she's got enough problems of her own. I can't talk to my mom because she's the last person I need telling me how to run a marriage (bearing witness to my parents' marriage is where a lot of my neuroses come from, I'm sure you'll hear all about it eventually).

So basically, I have nobody to talk to other than my therapist.

I can't tell you how much it means to me that an outsider-looking-in can take what I've told them, look at it objectively and be able to validate how I'm feeling.

It would mean so much more if it came from my husband.

Just drinking buddies. Why do I feel like puking?

The last time our relationship was this bad, my then-fiancee/now-husband went looking online for someone to have an affair with. When I found all the evidence, he heartily and profoundly denied it at first, feigning offense that I would think so poorly of him. When he finally admitted that the ads I found were indeed him, he apologized, but eventually "got sick" of me bringing it up and "using it as an excuse" for future insecurities. He said it needed to be done and over with so we could move on. This was within WEEKS of the incident.

I forgave, I stopped bringing it up, but I never forgot.

Our relationship is BAD right now. We'd been working fairly opposite shifts until he got laid off two weeks ago, had been taking each other for granted, have both been depressed for a while now. Between my depression and anxiety, our opposite shifts, our weekend lethargy, and my issues with my plumbing, I have had absolutely no desire for sex. My plumbing has let me down with absolutely no warning on an almost weekly basis for over a year - yeah, really makes you want to be intimate when the sheets could wind up looking like a murder scene at any given time. There's a damn sexy thought right there, isn't it?

We're good for something every once in a great while, but there's no actual sexual intimacy - I can't get into it because I'm just not interested because I'm petrified I'll ruin it by bleeding everywhere, he can't get into it because he feels like he's making me do something I don't want to do (and conversely, never initiates anything because he feels like he'd be pressuring me, and then is always splayed out on the couch, playing video games in his underwear). And now he's having trouble finding me sexually attractive because I talk too much about my plumbing issues, when I thought that letting him know what was going on would help serve as an explanation as to why I wasn't in the mood. But it wasn't until I pointed out to him that he's always in his underwear on the couch playing video games that he realized this is not all MY problem. Underwear/couch/video games is not a bone-jumping combination, you know? So we've got my depression and anxiety, my plumbing issues and the accompanying stress, his lack of motivation and reluctance to start anything to even TRY to get me in the mood, and the whole couch/underwear/video games thing... we're hot. A hot MESS, and he's officially deemed this a sexless marriage.

He went out with some friends from work on a Friday night a couple of months ago, came home tipsy and told me that he found himself attracted to one of his coworkers. I was not surprised in the least - I've known that would eventually happen since the first time I met her, over a year ago - she has the looooong hair and big eyes that he loves (though she's since cut the hair and is now growing it out again), she looks good in those adorable black-rimmed librarian glasses that look awful on me. She's kind of a tomboy, kind of athletic despite being a little chunky, likes gaming stuff and comic books, she creates things that are more worthy of deviantART than scrapbook.com, reads sci-fi and fantasy, and part of her decorating scheme includes video game posters and action figures. Most people who know my husband would probably start to wonder if he was okay if he wasn't attracted to her.

The night he told me he was attracted to her, he said that it freaked him out, because he'd never in our entire relationship been attracted to someone else. In the same conversation, he told me he doesn't know how much longer he can go without sex before he starts looking for it elsewhere or if he'll be able to control his actions when he's out at the bar with his friends.

Cue coworker's desperation. She and her man broke up over the summer, and she's been desperate for male physical contact. She's been obsessing over a guy she met online. Hubby likes to try to fix broken people (maybe that's why he's bored with me, my brand of crazy is just beyond his repair capabilities). He's spent almost every Friday night hanging out and drinking with her for two months. He's since told me that he's no longer attracted to her because she's whiny and desperate, but he keeps going out with her, rolling his eyes as he leaves the house, saying that he'd rather not, but that he said he would, so he has to. I'm uncomfortable with him hanging out with her, but when I mention it, he rolls his eyes, sighs heavily and says "so are you the jealous little wife now, who won't let her husband have female friends?"

This past Friday night, he had way too much to drink and I had to go pick him up at the bar. Part of the way home, he fretted that "the girl he fancies figured out that he fancied her." So while I was sitting at home bleeding like a stuck pig because of medication I'm on to help regulate my cycle so we can try to have a baby (not that I was invited to go out anyway - I've expressly been told that Friday night is his night out and I should stay away from "his bar"), my husband was out worrying that the girl he has a crush on figured it out. And this is what I had to listen to on the way home. Depressed, anxious, hormonal becuase of the medication I'm on, and I'm captive to my husband's worrying that his crush figured out he liked her.

And now, since we're in a sexless marriage, he's brought up the possibility of making this an open relationship. Because we're not having sex, and he needs sex to be happy.

Let's boil this down...

• He has a crush on her.
• She's desperate.
• He's a big flirt when he's drunk and self-admittedly might not be able to control what he does in the vicinity of attractive women after he's had a few.
• He goes to have a few on Friday nights, with the girl he has a crush on, at a bar where it would just cause more problems than I need to deal with if I were to show up unannounced (I've already gone there once on a Friday night - with a friend who suggested it - and got accused of "checking up" on him - when he got there he said "you know this is my bar, and I'm here to meet my friends and am going to ignore you all night, right?" He later said to me it was supposed to be a joke and lighten the mood - but it did nothing of the sort)
  
• He wants an open relationship.

Why do I feel like I'm being groomed for the inevitability of an affair? Whether it's with her or not, I've got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that he's going to go out and do something stupid and tell me that it's my fault, and that I shouldn't have the nerve to be hurt because I should have seen it coming.