Man I hate this feeling that I have for my wife. I don’t even really like her like that. I definately won’t say love. Shit, but i still get so damn mad sometimes. It’s gotta be my ego hurting.
Why does this shit have to hurt so got damn bad. Why can’t i just let it go. If anyone is reading this I’m telling you never, ever, ever, get married and have kids man. I hate what this chick is putting me through with every inch of my soul.
I hate that I feel powerless to do anything about it right now. It feels like torture. Why can’t I just let it go. I’m tired of holding on to the resentment, anger, and feelings of disrespect. I know that it says more about her character than me.
I know that I don’t want to be with her. I just want my family. The irony. I dont’ want to hurt my son, but staying in this situation is torture. I gotta get control over my emotions.
I’m tired of being weak. How can I get my strength back. How do people just shut down all these damn emotions?
Calling dude is a sucker move. I don’t even care to know the guy. In all other circumstances I’d gladly say, that it’s his problem now. But I signed up for this.
The split is knowing that my family suffers if I just leave. Hell I’d still suffer knowing that I hurt my son. I don’t suspect she’d shed a single tear. I’m not the type of person who wants someone who doesn’t want me back. She’s free to do whatever she wants. But why does that freedom have to force me and the innocent person I am charged to protect so much pain.
So here I am. Resigned to basically being a fucking cuck because I can’t just leave. Maintianing a home for my son where she benefits because of him. She is allowed to get away with murder scott free it seems. Here’s the choice, I suffer with my ego or kiddo suffers due to the loss of his home.
Maybe i should just embrace the fact that I’m a cuck. My wife is free to do whatever the hell she wants. I can choose to keep the home for him so he doesn’t suffer. If I continue to suffer alone. I mean at least one of us can be spared from this pain. I’d suffer either way to see him in pain.
When it comes down to it, he deserves happiness as a child. I’d sacrifice mine for his. God blessed my with the resposibility of raising him. I’ve lived my childhood. Life will probably beat him up enough that he doesn’t need this. I have to bear my cross. It’s getting heavy, but I can’t seem to drop it. As shaky as my knees are, they won’t let me fall.
So I have to take this ass whoopin like a man. No point in crying about it, at the very least, I must keep my dignity and no longer bitch about it to her. She’s heard my side. She makes her choice.
I make mine, we live and die by them. Daily, one step at a time.
But in reality, if she ends up pregnant, then what? At what level do I give in?
I need a drink