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Did you hear that sound?
3/17/2006 4:06 am Last Read: |
That was the other shoe falling... After a rather tumultuous morning In Whiche more than a few things came to the fore, the husband and I are discussing seperation. Essentially, I'd have to have a place to live and a job by the time the lease runs out here - four months time. My birthday. The irony hasn't escaped me. On the one hand, it feels like a leaden weight has been dropped on my head. And yet, on the other hand, I almost feel myself breathing a sigh of relief. When we married, we were very much in love with one another. We were also very very VERY kinky. It worked, as we were both very much into the scene. However, as time went on, and I got pregnant - I lost interest in it. This was complicated by nearly miscarrying several times in the first few months and spending a good portion of my first and second trimester in a wheelchair. Suddenly, beating the hubby with a whip was the last thing on my mind, and constant pressure to try and make our kink the prime focus of our lives just made me recoil from it. I'd rather this didn't become a bitch fest about what a bad husband he is. He isn't. He's a damn good man who has a lot of potential, and put a lot on the line to try and keep me happy. He sacrificed a lot in the past few years even when we had no plans of having children. But our lives are now entirely too different. We want different things - he's ten years my junior and so he's missed out on a lot of things I've already done. I've always been very supportive in letting him go out and explore. Perhaps that was wrong of me as it gave him too much of a taste of his freedom, and made him think he didn't need to adapt. I don't know. Money is always an issue in our house as well. He works a job he loathes. I feel awful about that - he's brilliant, a genius actually, but he has to work this podunk job just to keep us out of debt. As I stay home, I get enough to feed us and try to keep the household going. More often than not it's not enough to make our ends meet, no matter how much I shuffle things round. At his urging, because going out and about is so rare for me, I splurge on occasion, then spend a good couple of weeks dealing with the browbeating I get about overspending. But the harsh truth is I don't love him any more. He's a friend, he takes care of the bills. We have an agreement...but it isn't love. We don't make love any more, because I'm not doing the Dominance thing any more, and without BDSM he's not aroused. And I really don't want to be with such a submissive man - I need a bit more assertiveness in the bedroom, and he can't do it. So, he goes elsewhere. I've been fine with it. However, lately, there have been hints I should be more like the women he's seeing. Comparisons are happening in his head, regardless, and that gets my back up. I don't care if he's seeing someone else. I care that Someone Else is being held up to my own image, and checks and balances are being chalked up. I am not Her or Them. I am Me. Don't judge me on that, I don't appreciate it. So, I'm now facing the one thing that scares me more than anything in the world; being a single mum. I'm terrified as hell, and can't stop shaking. All I can think of is how broke I'll be, how impossible it will be to do anything other than desperately trying to make ends meet. There's nothing on this planet more unsexy than a poor single mum, I've certainly learned that lesson before. I doubt I'll be able to stay in this city I love so much as there's no work here. I've no idea what I'll do about childcare - it's nearly impossible to afford to work if you're a single mum; it comes it, it goes right out for transportation, childcare fees, kids' clothes, and so on. Anyone who thinks being a single mum is a breeze should try it some time. And yet...and yet...there's something liberating about not having to pretend I love someone. There's a deep sigh of relief escaping my lips as I realise I will not have to answer to anyone but me. My Money, when I earn it, will finally be my own and not something I have to beg off someone else if I ever want to do anything. It may mean I need to get a job damn quickly before my dreadlocks are put in, and I doubt I'll be getting a very well paying job, but at least I'll be doing something. I may need my husband's help in paying certain bills or taking care of my son, but even so, there will be some independence there. And if...and this is a big IF...I ever have a chance to get out myself, I'll actually be able to do it, with no guilt trips, no complaints on how much Money I've spent. When my husband sees his son, he'll actually want to spend time with him rather than ignore him and read a book, as he won't be seeing him very often. I'm scared to death...but I'm going to try and face the fear and do it anyway. So thank you, my dear, for what was a very lovely five years. You did instill faith in men again, and were a prince. But we all grow, and move on. It's time for you to bloom, and shine. I had my chance at greatness - I missed it. You haven't. Go make some other lass who enjoys the scene very, very happy, with my blessing. ....and this is an incredibly non-kink related sort of thing to write. I imagine it bored you to death. Too bad. |
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