Pride goeth before destruction

I realize that I fell out of love with my wife.  Or should I say, I was pushed out of love with her.   I was dragged out, kicking and screaming.   Now that I’m out of the burning building, I wonder why I was so attached as to stay in the heat to endure the burn.

Hope for the possibility of saving my family has taught me that I can endure a lot.   The effort was, for the most part, not a conscious decision.  Perhaps loyalty to the idea was just ingrained in me.  Unfortunately, I sustained a ton of injury and scars to carry with me.

I suppose the next step is learning how to overcome my pride in the matter.   It played a large role in how I handled the situation.   It still does.   I know she has checked out.   I realize that her nature is that of not caring and possibly rubbing salt in the wound.    She no longer cares how her actions affect me.   Yet my pride as a man just won’t allow me peace with her doing whatever the hell she wants.   At least while we are living together.

I was hoping that acceptance would finally lead to apathy.   So far, I still get angry, jealous and annoyed.  “You think I’m stupid” seems to be my go to phrase for whenever she’s engaged in suspicious activity.  She laughs it off and seems to be somewhat amused by my frustration.

The way I see it, there is a combination of factors at play here.   I want justice for feeling that I was treated so badly.   I want her to feel bad and take ownership about destroying our marriage.    I feel emasculated and powerless to do anything about the perceived injustices she inflicts onto me.   Yet I know that it’s all perspective.   If I could, somehow, just not care.  As they say, “it’s mind over matter.  if you don’t mind, it don’t matter.”

I know that I deserve better.   It’s not a matter of not knowing my worth.   I know that fundamentally, we are no longer compatible.  She’s not a keeper.    I am looking forward to the day when I can look back and say that I’m glad that that’s in the past,  just as I do with all of my previous relationships.

I think that one of my biggest fears is that she’ll go on to find that happiness she is looking for despite all of the wrong doing and suffering she’s caused me.   Logically, I know it’s irrelevant as I know that someday, I’ll be over it and hope that I’m as apathetic to her as all of my other exes (for better or for worse in their lives).

For now, it’s a daily struggle.   The emotional roller coaster is still in full effect.  I feel like I’m being emotionally abused.   While I really don’t think that I’ll have any regrets on losing her in the future, presently, it seems that I’m stuck with having to endure the constant pokes and jabs of her apathy.   It’s a constant reminder of the loss of the greatest good I ever had.  My family.

I am daily reminded that I am stuck in an emotionally abusive situation and am pretty much powerless to do anything about it for now.   It’s like being in jail for an undetermined amount of time for a crime that I didn’t commit.

As Buddha said, “attachment is the cause of suffering.”   I have suffered greatly due to my attachment of having a home and family.  I suffer due to my pride over not having the power to make her treat me in the way I feel that I deserve.   I suffer in knowing that in order to get the peace of mind I want, I have to end up hurting/disappointing my son.   I suffer with the knowledge that she could do this to me and pretty much get away with it.

It’s so hard not to hate her over this.   How could I have let such a wicked monster into my heart.   Yet divorce, betrayal, breaking of homes, etc happen every day.   I know that we don’t have what it takes to endure.   I don’t love her anymore.   We don’t have the desire for each other.   The lack of love for me is so apparent and yet I can’t seem to let it go.    She isn’t worth it.  She doesn’t have the type of loyalty, self reflection, kindness, nor consideration that’s need to sustain a marriage.   I can’t love her like Christ loved the church.  It’s just not in me.   It hurts too much.

I gotta figure out how to get the time and space to forgive so that I can move on with my life so that I no longer feel disrespected and hurt over this.  The more she injures me, the harder it is to forgive.   Ironically, the less I forgive, the more hurt I am.

Right now, it seems that all I can do is keep hoping for the light at the end of the tunnel.







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