|Yeah, that about sums it up. That's exactly how I feel.|
I have taken off my wedding ring again. I'm not sure what it represents any more. See, last night I got to reviewing things, as one would expect. Tilly's old room-mate from University, a female, sometimes comes to stay. Tilly has cuddled her in bed more than she has cuddled me. And I stretch back to our wedding night in 2008 to make that claim. When they lived together they would often crawl into one another's bed to sleep. The room-mate, for the avoidance of doubt, is utterly straight - there's no affair here, just shared space and cuddling for warmth and comfort. Last night, Tilly made continual references to the fact that I smell. I'd had a soup with chilli in it at lunchtime, Tilly dislikes the smell of chilli. She also mentioned the fact that I fart too much. True, yesterday I had the lentil bolognese she made and had left out for me to eat, so there was some farting. She mentioned that I was shivering, true as it was cold, and didn't like that.
|I bought the Heartbreak Hotel, on my own with no investors,|
Closed it down and opened the 'Fuck-You-Get-Over-It'
bed and breakfast.
I feel humiliated. She tells me to take charge, to make her stick to her word and push for things that I would like, but when I do... Okay, everything is set up to discourage that, so that she can claim I don't try and then justify her lack of response and willingness. Other women she knows don't want sex either and wish their husbands wanted it less. Wanted it less - that is, they are having sex. I want to ask how often they're having it, and what would constitute less. Would twice a year be something Tilly's friends would be happy with? Is that their gold standard? And that's on average.
|I nod sagely. It's true.|
She says she wants a third child. I don't want another child. I already come last, I don't want something else to come before me, selfishly. I already come after the fucking pet. I don't want another two years of no sex, justified by breastfeeding, and then more years of no sexy-times or affection, justified by having a small person crawl all over her, followed by the last couple of years. I see no benefit to me, selfishly, in all of that. I'm stretched emotionally thin enough with two children. I'm not a good father, I have to really work at it, and having another child would just try my patience, and that's not fair. But it wouldn't be about this hypothetical child, it's about Tilly's need to have a child, her need to be a mother. And that just doesn't seem right or fair to me.
|Not my most recent dressing.|