Release - needsmoresugar's Journal

[needsmoresugar]

I'm so happy to have found this forum. Writing has always been a therapeutical outlet to me, and one of my first instincts when I'm suffering is to write about it. I have a personal online journal, but I don't want this sensitive subject to be public. Not because I'm embarassed by it, but because I respect my boyfriend's privacy. So I'm relieved to have a place where I can get it all out anonymously, and with people who understand what I'm going through.

So, here's my story.

My boyfriend and I haven't officially been together for very long—about five months now—but we knew each other for a year before that, and had been sexually involved for half of that time. When we first got involved, we had an explosive sex life, and a sort of passion I'd never experienced with anyone else. There were days we had sex four or five times. There were weeks we had sex every single night—and sometimes in the morning as well. It was fantastic, to say the least.

But when I moved in with him three months ago, our sex life began to dwindle. I thought it was because of his long workdays—between transit and work, he'd be out of the house for 13 hours every day, and he was so exhausted every night that he was falling asleep by 9:00. I figured that once he was working in town and didn't have to be on the road so much, he'd have more time, and energy, to spend with me.

Of course, that didn't happen. If anything, it got worse. We've been having sex once a week—sometimes less—since the beginning of summer. Frankly, that's not nearly enough for me, but I made the terrible mistake of keeping quiet and hoping things would improve on their own. He'd once told me that he didn't have a very high sex drive, so I figured he was just in a slow period and that his appetite would eventually pick up again.

This past Monday, I started my first day of training at a new job. We had an hour for lunch. Since I didn't know anyone or have a book or magazine to keep me occupied, I decided to go home to eat. My boyfriend was sleeping when I got there because he's working midnight shifts this week. When I went into the living room, I noticed the DVD player was on and running—he often forgets to turn it off. I opened it up with an innocent curiosity to see what he'd been watching, and to my utter shock it was a porn DVD. When I turned around, I noticed a stack of DVDs sitting on the floor—all porn.

On two separate occasions in the past, I asked if he owned any porn, because I would've liked to watch it together. And he said no. Now I knew that he'd looked me straight in the eye and lied to me. And that's why I was so devastated to find this secret stash... not because he'd been watching porn, but because he'd lied to me.

I scattered the DVDs across the couch so that when he woke up later on, he'd see them and realize that I knew. I went back to work, obviously unable to pay much attention to anything going on, and trying hard to fight back tears for the rest of the night.

He'd already left for work when I got home. I went to bed and soaked my pillow with tears. It took me hours to fall asleep—hours of destructive thoughts and fears running through my mind. Why did he lie to me? What else has he been lying about? How can I trust anything he says now? How often does he use porn? Enough that he felt the need to keep it a secret? More often than we're together? Why? Why aren't I good enough for him? What's wrong with me? ...I'm sure you all know the thought process. It was especially difficult for me because those last few questions have been ones I've been asking myself for a long time. My track record with relationships hasn't left me with the best self-esteem; my partners have never treated me with as much love and respect as they should. I am always the one who loves more, and that leaves me wondering why they don't love me as much, and thinking that I'll never find someone who will.

I set my alarm to wake me up before he'd get home in the morning so I'd be ready to face him. I was determined not to attack him or blow up at him, but instead have a calm, mature conversation, while letting him know that what he did was wrong and that it hurt me very much.

But it never quite turns out that way, does it?

It started off smoothly enough. He didn't deny what he did, or that it was wrong. He apologized for not being honest with me. I reminded him that he lied straight to my face, twice, about this, and that that killed my trust in him. I told him that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to trust anything he said to me anymore, that I'd doubt any answer he gave to any question I asked.

That's when I asked the big one: How often did he do it? I was honestly expecting him to spin a tale about how he hardly ever does it, and that he had a reason for needing it that particular day, and so on, that I probably wouldn't believe. I hadn't really allowed myself to think of the alternative because subconsciously I knew how much it would devastate me. So I was quite unprepared when he answered, "Three or four times a week." I completely broke down. I burst into tears and started shaking violently. Three or four times a week, and we were only having sex once a week... if that. It ripped me apart. It broke my heart and my soul. It doubled the old insecurities—why aren't I good enough for him?—and brought on new fears—is this serious enough to end our relationship? I thought about how I'd gone to bed every night praying that he would touch me or respond to my touches, wishing that he'd want me... and he rarely did, and now I knew why. I felt ugly, worthless, and utterly alone. I felt betrayed and cheated. And most of all I was scared to death of what this all meant for our relationship.

I told him this, and he asked what I was scared of. I reminded him that he'd said it once himself: when the sex goes sour in a relationship, that's the beginning of the end. And what could be more sour than preferring to masturbate to porn over having sex with his girlfriend? It meant that there was something missing in our sex life, some way I wasn't fulfilling him. He insisted it wasn't about me, or anything I had done, or didn't do... and I wanted so badly to believe it, but I couldn't. I don't know if I fully believe it even now. A voice in the back of my head is telling me that if he was truly attracted to me, if he truly enjoyed having sex with me, if I truly satisfied him... he wouldn't need porn.

He claimed it was an urge that he couldn't repress, and that it started thirteen years ago, when he was seventeen and going through his father's stash. He got caught several times, and strict rules were put into place, but still he couldn't stop it, he couldn't stay away from it. It got so bad, in fact, that his parents threw him out of the house (though it was short-lived and he moved back in soon after). He told me that he had claimed to have a low sex drive as a cover-up for his porn habit and an excuse as to why we had sex so infrequently. He fully understands and admits to his porn habits being the reason why he's so disinterested in sex with me, or with other partners (apparently, this had been an issue with his last serious girlfriend as well). He also admitted that he was very ashamed and embarassed about this. He actually started to tear up when he said that, so I could see how much it was affecting him just to talk about it and own up to it.

Though he did admit that he was wrong and apologize to me, he also asked me not to blow this out of proportion and make too much out of it... possibly wise because I do have a tendency to overthink and overanalyze, and to fear the worst. But I asked him in return not to make too little of this because it is a serious problem.

I also stressed that the problem wasn't simply that he watched porn, but that he was using it much more often than he was having sex with me. I told him that I wouldn't mind him watching porn once in awhile (and that I'd like to watch it with him), because it is natural and normal for men, especially, to enjoy porn—I know this is an excuse they use a lot, but it's a fact that men are very visually-oriented and visual stimulation is usually the most affective for them. I myself don't have any interest in watching porn, but I do enjoy reading it from time to time because I am very thought-oriented when it comes to arousal. Furthermore, masturbation is normal as well, and I wouldn't mind him doing it once in awhile. I've masturbated a few times while we've been together. After all, masturbation gives you something that being with a partner can't—freedom to focus 100% on your own desires, freedom from insecurities or pressures. Plus, your partner isn't always around when you need them! But, again, the problem is that he's masturbating too much. It should be a secondary, infrequent means of satisfaction, not his primary tool. Thankfully, he understood and agreed.

[needsmoresugar]

Eventually he came to me to hug me, and told me that he felt terrible about hurting me, because, and I quote: "I care so much about you. You mean the world to me." That second part was nice, but the first part? That is what you say to someone when you don't want to say "I love you." For the record, he hadn't said it to me yet. I had, once, months ago when he chose to end our strange "I have feelings for you and I enjoy sleeping with you but I don't want a relationship" relationship. Losing him was absolutely killing me because I did love him, and I wanted him to know that. Obviously, we ended up in a real relationship, but I hadn't said it again since because I didn't want to pressure him into saying it back if he wasn't ready yet.

As soon as I heard those words: "I care so much about you," I started to tremble and cry again, and when he pulled back, I buried my face in my hands and tried not to scream. After a few moments I said in anguish, "But you don't love me." And he replied, after a pause, "I do love you." How was I supposed to believe that? First he uses the "I love you" cop-out, then he pauses for a good five seconds when I accuse him of not loving me before insisting that he does—and let's not forget, my trust in him down the drain. A little more harshly than I meant to, I said, "If you loved me, you would've said that instead of 'I care about you.'" And he said, "You're never in a million years going to believe this, but I was going to say it. I was building up to it." Again, I wanted so badly to believe him... I still do... but I don't think I can.

I had to get away from him after that, so I escaped to the bathroom to take a shower, where I spent more time crying than I did washing.

I was on and off for the rest of the day. I'd be okay for awhile, but then all of my destructive thoughts would overwhelm me, or I'd think of a new and even worse one, and I'd dissolve into tears all over again. I couldn't look him in the eye. I didn't want to be in the same room with him, because it hurt so much.

But eventually, I calmed down. I stopped crying. And somehow, some way, I started to miss him. I didn't want to be angry or to push him away. I wanted to let him love me—or, at least, care for me. So I went downstairs and sat beside him on the couch and leaned over and wrapped my arms around him. He held me and kissed me, and when I pulled back he said, "Thank you." It was my way of letting him know I forgave him and wanted to move on.

It really would have helped if he'd held my hand, or let me cuddle against him. But we quickly fell into our usual one-foot-apart-at-all-times stance on the couch, something I hate with a passion, being a very warm and affectionate person. And just as quickly those thoughts started through my head again: Why doesn't he care enough to even hold my ****ing hand? Soon I was forcing back tears and feeling sick to my stomach again, and I was grateful when he went upstairs to sleep (he's on midnight shifts, if you've forgotten). But shortly after he left that lonliness crept in on me again and I so desperately needed something, anything from him. So I went upstairs to lie down with him, and he spooned me—he's usually sweeter in this way in bed than he is elsewhere. But then the vicious cycle started again and again I broke down and tried to cry silently, shaking so hard I was sure it would wake him up, but it didn't.

To be continued, because I'm exhausted and need to go to bed.

[brulant]

I understand how writing all of this out helps so much, Needsmoresugar, It sounds like you and I are in the same new gf path. Thanks for posting and sharing.

welcome to the boards. We all need shoulders and the validation of our side of the story, especially in this stage when the world and the partner tell us this is all in our reactions, etc.

You will find great value in being able to come back and see the beginnings so I encourage you to keep writing.

I hope you slept well and I send you warm thoughts.
brulant

[needsmoresugar]

I did not, in fact, sleep well last night. But let me backtrack before I get to today's struggles...

Continuing from my last post, I went to work that afternoon feeling quite terrible, but having something else to focus on helped a great deal, and soon I was feeling much lighter. By the end of the night, I was trying to think positively and assure myself that we would get through this and come out of it stronger. When I got home, I whipped out a notebook to write down some thoughts.

I wrote a list of positive points about this experience. First, now that the problem was out in the open, it could be solved, and our relationship would grow stronger and healthier with that obstacle out of the way. Second, I hoped it would strengthen our communication, and our comfort with opening up to each other about other serious and/or private issues. Third, I wanted to help him overcome his shame and guilt over his problem so he would no longer have to suffer those feelings. Fourth, in a strange way, I'm relieved to know that he has a flaw, that he isn't perfect, because it makes me feel better about not being perfect myself.

Next I wrote a list of things we could do together that would satisfy his need for visual stimulation, from simply using more visual positions to hanging a mirror next to our bed to eventually, when we are both well healed, enjoying porn together.

Finally I wrote down several thoughts I wanted to share with him or discuss with him. I wanted to tell him again that he shouldn't be ashamed or embarassed about enjoying porn, or any other interests or desires he might have, and that I would never judge him or care less for him because of any of it. I wanted to ask what drew him to porn in the first place, and if there were any other aspects of it, besides the visual stimulation, that appealed to him, and if so, how we could incorporate that into our sex life (ie. roleplay certain scenarios). I wanted to tell him that though I understand it is difficult for him to talk about his feelings, I wanted him to try to open up to me more about how he feels, because I need so much to know that he cares for me and appreciates me and wants me in his life.

I went to bed feeling a hundred times better than I had the night before, and hopeful that everything would be all right.

I was still in bed when he got home from work in the morning. We sat together and talked for awhile, though I didn't bring up all the points I'd wanted to, including what might've been the most important: how sensitive I am right now, how scared I still am, and that it would take time for me to heal, and that I need his help to do so... as well as my need for him to open up and share his feelings for me, with me. Sometime during the conversation he told me that he'd thrown out all of his DVDs so he wouldn't give in to any urges he would have. I was grateful for that, but also a little wary and unsure if I could trust that he was telling me the truth. After all, he'd already lied to be twice before in order to cover up his porn habits. How could I be so certain that he wasn't doing it again now?

The morning passed into afternoon and I went to work. When I got home, I came onto these forums to start this journal, and to read others. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, reading about experiences so like my own and remembering all the terrible things that I'd so recently gone through. But I didn't fall apart until I read a comment a PA made about his own situation: his wife had been incredibly supportive of him, and he loved appreciated her immensely. Before I got to the end of the sentence, I was crying. Because he hasn't told me that he appreciates me or my support; he hasn't thanked me for being so understanding and for wanting to help him. And he should have. I realized in that moment that I have been exceptionally strong, caring, and supportive these past few days, much more than a lot of women would be. I know I am a wonderful person, despite how deeply my self-esteem has been wounded because of this. He should appreciate me, and he should love me! And I don't think he does.

Shortly after I shut my computer down and went upstairs to bed, and sobbed so hard it felt as if I were having convulsions. I was in more agony then than I'd been the first night and morning after discovering his problem. The devastation and horror were just as intense as they'd been then, only now I had two days' worth of dark thoughts to drown in. I remember having a few new specific thoughts and fears, moments of clarity and realization that made me gasp in horror and cry all over again... but exactly what they were, I don't know; I think I blocked most of it out because it was so painful. Again, it took me hours to fall asleep. And every time I woke up during the night, and remembered, I felt numb and hollow and alone.

I woke up this morning to find him in our bedroom, changing his clothes. I told him I was going to sleep awhile longer, and he left. When I next woke up, he was in bed with me, spooning me from behind. My body went tense as that voice in the back of my head started up. He doesn't love you, he doesn't want you, he doesn't appreciate you. And he probably never will. Five minutes later, he woke up too, and a few minutes after that, his hands started roaming over my body. It started off fairly innocently and took quite some time to turn into more—maybe he was nervous and wasn't sure how far he should go, considering the circumstances. I'd been worried of how I'd feel and how I'd react when this moment came, and sure enough, I felt sick to my stomach. This time the voice was saying, He only wants you now because he can't watch porn, you're not his first choice, you're the last resort, you're just a substitute, you're not what he really wants, he's just using you! You're not good enough, and you never will be. He doesn't love you.

As it progressed, I felt more and more detached from him. I don't think it's ever felt less intimate between us. He seemed to be looking at me as if I were an object, as if I were live porn right in front of him, merely a tool to arouse him. Every minute I was more convinced that he didn't really want me, but I was all he had left, so he had to make do. And I didn't feel any love from him. So, if he didn't truly want me physically, and he didn't feel much for me emotionally... what did I mean to him? Nothing. I felt less than worthless. His eyes were looking into mine, but instead of the connection I used to feel, all I felt was fear. A few tears trickled down my face and the noises I made were cries of pain rather than pleasure. He didn't seem to notice.

When it was over, I turned away from him so he wouldn't notice my eyes fill with tears or the look of disgust I'm sure was on my face. He talked about his shift the night before, and my responses were all short and distant. Eventually I left the bed to take a shower, and there I was able to really let go and cry and cry and cry, with the rushing water drowning me out. I wondered if that's how it was going to be between us from now on—uncomfortable, emotionally agonizing, completely devoid of intimacy. How long would it go on like that? Would I ever stop feeling these feelings, thinking these thoughts? Would I ever be able to look into his eyes again and not want to shrink away from him? Would I ever again feel that insatiable passion that first drew me to him? Would I ever, ever see love in those eyes?

I spent a short amount of time with him in the living room, reading while he watched TV. Again, there was a good foot of space between us. He made no move to take my hand or touch me in any other way, or show me any affection whatsoever. Soon, I was itching to leave. If I wasn't in the same room as him, there was no opportunity for him to withhold affection, and therefore I wouldn't be in this constant pain that deepened every minute that went by without him speaking to me or looking at me or touching me. And so, hardly looking him in the eye, I told him I was going upstairs to read, and I did.

I didn't come back downstairs until it was time to leave for work. As always, he drove me there. During the short ride, I was completely silent, and he asked if everything was all right. I looked directly at him and said, "No." He asked what was wrong. I said, "I'm having a hard day." He asked, "In what way?" And I told him simply, "Emotionally." And then we were there, and I gave him a kiss goodbye and wished him a good night, and got out of the car. I haven't spoken to him since. I highly doubt he'll pursue that conversation any more tomorrow.

[needsmoresugar]

To be honest, I'm not even sure if I should be here, on this forum, because what's hurting me the most isn't his addiction or the betrayal and insecurity I feel because of it, but the simple fact that I do not feel loved by him. He shows me affection so rarely that when he does touch me or kiss me voluntarily outside of the bedroom, I soak it up like a person dying of thirst. On exactly two occasions has he ever spoken about how he feels for me: the first time when we became a couple and he told me that I was everything he'd been looking for, the second time the "I care so much about you; you mean the world to me" that I can't help but think was said just to make me feel better. He certainly doesn't say or do anything that lets me know he appreciates me. And he hasn't made any further effort to tell me that he loves me. If the tables were turned, and he'd accused me of not loving him mere moments before I was going to tell him that I did, I'd be doing all I possibly could to convince him that I did love him. But he hasn't mentioned it since. He hasn't even hinted at it.

I've been suffering with this for awhile, but it had been a dull ache, a prodding thought in the back of my head. The discovery of his addiction caused it to explode, and now it's eating away at me and I'm afraid that soon there will be nothing left of me.

[Searching4peace]

I find myself sitting here reliving my own experiences, though the details are different in some ways the situation was similar. The first thing that sticks out in my mind reading your last two posts, is I believe you need to be here. Not because you need to learn how to make your relationship work...but because you need to learn how to heal yourself. I know that from a new persons stand point this site seems to put a lot of focus on Couples making it work, and how it can seems like the recovery of the SO isn't as direct. The real fact of the matter is, You need to heal for your...no matter whether that is with him or without him.

I hear in your journal my own voice a few years back,

I wanted to ask what drew him to porn in the first place, and if there were any other aspects of it, besides the visual stimulation, that appealed to him, and if so, how we could incorporate that into our sex life (ie. roleplay certain scenarios).

For instance this one...while there is a healthy aspect to this statement, being I want to help do the things that I can to help you overcome your addiction...but there is an underlying unhealthy statement too...and that is I want to(even if subtely) change how I do things, change how I act, and change what we do to help you. When you find yourself wanting to do things to "Change" instead of "grow" it should become a red flag for you. Changing for someone, in the terms I'm describing, is setting yourself up to become a co dependent to an addict.

The hard thing about dealing with someone with any type of sexual addiction is how it does change the things that you feel are "normal" or "enjoyable". Like watching porn, before my husbands SA grew out of bounds, we would watch porn together...this was something we enjoyed doing. In retrospect, I found that the more he became attached to these "visual stimuli" the more "varied" our sexual experiences became. I'm breaking this down only to show you that addicts are addicts for life, that is the core reasoning behind being an addict over a habitual or casual user. They say in AA, One beer is a beer to many, because in an addicts mind they don't know what one is. It may be one this day, but in two weeks that one could turn into 12. The same goes for PA, because the temptation and addictive nature of p is just that addictive, controlling and overwhelming.

I myself tried to be more adventurous in bed with my husband, and trust me I was already pretty damn adventurous when we met. I went out of my way to do things to divert his attention, to sway his desires...but in the long run I was postponing the inevitable and compromising myself in the process. Though I enjoyed the things we did, and never played along with something against my will, it ate away at my core. Over time I realized that I was doing these things not because I wanted to do them for me, but because I was trying to be someone I wasn't to keep him from turning to p. This is a very very unhealthy thing to do, it takes away an innocence that you will one day regret.

I'll tell you a story that helped me when deciding whether I was going to stay gone from my husband or not. We have been together for about 6 years...my best friends step dad told me this story to help me decide what to do.

When you marry someone, or commit to them you commit to them based on the idea you have of that person. When the relationship is new, you see all the things you think you will get from that person, how they will make you happy, how they will complete you. After about 5 or 6 years you start to see them for what they are, this happens sooner or later depending on the person and can be as early as a few years. Eventually one or both in the relationship realize that the person their with isn't the person they committed to, and it's not to say they have changed at all, it's just that you start to really know that person. You start to see them for what they really were all along. Not the dream person you made them out to be, or what you thought they would grow and change into. When you throw something like PA in the works it has a way of forcing you to see the flaws that you may have otherwise repressed. It opens up that person to be just as they are flawed...just as we all are.

I think you are on a great, though painful, path of realizing the core issues in your relationship. One can only begin to rebuild a relationship after PA, if there is all ready a stable base to build on. If you have never had that stable base of love on both sides his and yours, then it will make it even harder to overcome for both of you. I'm not saying that he doesn't love you, I don't know for sure, but I do believe that you love him. It happens in life that we love someone with all of our hearts only to have them care for us in return. Relationships that work in general without the spur of PA, are ones where both are willing to meet in the middle, or at least compromise with a percentage that adds up to 100%.

I know how hard this is to go through, I'm glad you are here now instead of suffering through this for years and years before seeking help. I do want to stress to you the importance of recovering for yourself, focusing on yourself, and making yourself happy. I fear that you are in a place where you are focusing so much on helping him fix himself that you are going down a path where you will start compromising your own needs, wishes, and desires. We have all been there, and I can tell you that recovery does not work that way. You will become a bitter, hollow, and very angry woman, and odds are good he will still be addicted, loveless, and lacking compassion towards you.

I can say that from experience, do not allow yourself to be intimate with him unless you are able to connect with him on a level that makes you feel complete. Even if his reasons weren't to use you as an object, though it sounds to me like they were, by allowing yourself to be a part of something that personal while you Weren't able to connect mentally you are tearing little parts of your own heart out. The odds are good that those moments will become a source of anger and bitterness, that are very hard to rid yourself of in the future. We all know that women are emotional and mental connectors vs the male physical and visual, to show how a visual addiction(PA) and physical addiction (MB) are detrimental to men the emotional and mental are just as detrimental to women. Emotional scars run deep, and come back to haunt us at the worst times...I just want to help you stop this cycle before you venture down a path that some women never escape from.

I hope that this has helped you, I truly do...I also want you to know that we are here for you...if you have questions or concerns about any of our experiences, feel free to ask. No matter how private, or how stressful, most of us don't mind. You can always PM me with anything...I promise to be honest and give advice about how I've handled my recovery, I'm blunt about a lot of things, but do try to be understanding about what you are going through.

Peace and love,
Crys

[hope phul]

I just read your journal and I don't really have any words of revelation but wanted to say I can relate to how you feel! I remember when I found out it took weeks before I could really stop crying. I remember the intense shower cries:) >:D< Just wanted to tell you I am thinking of you and that you are not alone in this.

C

[needsmoresugar]

For instance this one...while there is a healthy aspect to this statement, being I want to help do the things that I can to help you overcome your addiction...but there is an underlying unhealthy statement too...and that is I want to(even if subtely) change how I do things, change how I act, and change what we do to help you. When you find yourself wanting to do things to "Change" instead of "grow" it should become a red flag for you. Changing for someone, in the terms I'm describing, is setting yourself up to become a co dependent to an addict.

I agree with you completely there, but roleplaying is something I actually would be interested in doing. I am quite adventurous myself and I'm always open to new and different things. So, if we were to try that (I don't know if we will because he says his interest in porn is strictly about the visual and had nothing to do with the scenarios) it wouldn't be only because I wanted to do something and be something for him, but because I would enjoy it myself. I would never do anything that I felt uncomfortable with (which is basically three things: anything with animals, children, or feces).

As for being intimate with him, I know now from the experience I had yesterday that I cannot go through that again. That isn't to say sex is totally off the table, but I won't stay quiet and let myself "be used" and feel terrible and sick about it; I am going to tell him that I need the focus to be on my needs, and that I need it to be intimate and personal and loving, instead of just physical.

I think we made a breakthrough this morning... will write about it in a separate comment because I'm anal and organized like that. :D

[needsmoresugar]

I managed to get to sleep last night without having to cry myself to sleep, which was great. I woke up when he came home and came into the room, I assume to change, but I didn't let him know I was awake; I figured he'd get into bed with me, but he left after a few moments of silence. I slept some more, and when I woke up again I began to read instead of going downstairs. He came back up shortly after and was a little surprised to find me awake. He did join me in bed then, and I waited and waited for him to say something. Finally, he asked what was bothering me.

I told him, "Everything that's happened this week." I also told him that it would take some time before I'd be able to banish these thoughts from my mind. "What kind of thoughts?" he wanted to know, and I explained how I felt that he only wanted to sleep with me because he had no longer had his porn, that I was his second choice, that I was second best, that I didn't fulfill him, and so on and so forth. Instead of assuring me that I wasn't second best and that I did fulfill him, he simply said, "I thought I explained all that to you." Yes, I know he'd said it had nothing to do with me, but it's impossible not to think that it does, and not to feel badly about myself in this sort of situation, and I told him this.

Somehow I launched into my issues with not feeling loved by him. I told him that he shows me so little affection outside of the bedroom, that he never makes an effort to hold my hand and rarely makes an effort to touch me otherwise, and that when he does, I soak it up like a person dying of thirst. And I reminded him that he's only ever told me how he feels about me twice. So, he's not showing me that he cares, and he's not telling me that he cares, so it feels like he just doesn't care at all. So now I think he doesn't care about me emotionally, and that he isn't interested in me physically, so what's left?

I waited for a response. Something. Anything. But he was silent. I lay there in his arms for long minutes, screaming inside my head for him to tell me I'm wrong! Tell me you do care about me, you do love me! But he said nothing. Finally I pushed his arm away and left the bed and went to grab my towel to head for the shower. He stopped me at our closet and for the life of me I can't remember what he said there, but it wasn't anything I needed to hear, and eventually I pushed him away again and fled to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

I turned on the water and hung my towel beside the shower and broke down into sobs, and when I turned around he was opening the door and coming in. I thought, now, surely, he's going to tell me! And still he didn't. He did say, though, that now that he knew how I felt, he wanted to change and wanted to improve and he would try to. He said that I deserved more than what he was giving me, and I agreed with him and told him that I handled his PA very well and I was being more understanding and supportive than a lot of women would, and that I didn't feel that he appreciated it. I also told him that I'm a great person and deserve to be loved for who I am. And that nobody's ever loved me as much as I should be loved, nobody's ever treated me the way I deserve to be treated. I am always the one who gives so much, and never gets enough in return. Again he promised that he would change. He said that he's never been a touchy-feely person and that's been a problem in every relationship he's had, but now that he knows I want that, he'll try to give it to me.

I appreciated that immensely, I did, but I was still screaming inside my head... tell me you love me! That's what I need more than anything! He pulled me into an embrace and I stiffened in his arms, wanting so much to cling to him but still feeling so hurt. Finally, finally, finally, he said, "I love you." And of course, my twisted mind had to think, but are you only saying it to make me feel better? Is it a lie or do you truly mean it? I struggled internally, wanting so desperately to believe it but absolutely terrified that it wasn't the truth. I was silent for long moments until I finally said, "I love you, too, you have no idea how much." He held me for a few minutes longer, and kissed me, and then left so I could shower. I came close to it, but managed not to cry again.

When I was out and getting dressed, he told me he was going to take a bunch of garbage to the dump and he'd be back in half an hour. I was making myself breakfast and coffee when he got back... with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. I teared up immediately. Nobody's ever given me flowers before. I told him that, and he said, "Expect a lot more of it." This showed me that he did care, he did think about me, he did want to make me happy. It was a small gesture, but it said so much, and I truly hope it is only the beginning.

I want to feel confident that things will change and improve. I want to believe that he does care about me enough to give me what I need. But I'm still so scared that things will lapse back to the way they were, that that one "I love you" is all I'll get, that a week or a month from now I'll be crying myself to sleep again. It's so hard to stay positive and hopeful right now. It's so hard to trust him. Because I'm afraid that I'll only set myself up for an even bigger fall.

[Abbie]

Instead of assuring me that I wasn't second best and that I did fulfill him, he simply said, "I thought I explained all that to you."

I waited for a response. Something. Anything. But he was silent. I lay there in his arms for long minutes, screaming inside my head for him to tell me I'm wrong! Tell me you do care about me, you do love me! But he said nothing.

I'm still so scared that things will lapse back to the way they were, that that one "I love you" is all I'll get, that a week or a month from now I'll be crying myself to sleep again. It's so hard to stay positive and hopeful right now. It's so hard to trust him. Because I'm afraid that I'll only set myself up for an even bigger fall.

NMS, I can totally identify with what you are describing here. Mu husband had a relapse four weeks ago and has been the way you describe above since then.

I can totally understand how you feel inside when he is not saying the things you need him to, sometimes they ask us "what do you want me to say?" but obviously, we aren't going to tell them what to say, it has to come from them.

A lot of people suggest writing a letter to your partner, explaining everything you feel and what you expect to come out of it. Then he has the option of replying either through a letter to you, or coming to talk to you. From reading the posts on here, this seems to work for a lot of people, I would really encourage you to try it and see what happens.

>:D<