Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 7 April 2019

The lie of the land

Not a proper entry, more a repository.

Tilly said I would probably prefer beer to an egg for Easter today, and I was off out to charge the car, I thought about it. No. I don't want anything from her. I told her this on my return. In a previous conversation I explained to Tilly how I am about hugs: they are romantic things and thus I don't hug people that aren't her. She has alleged that I have not been initiating hugs, she's been keeping track (a la my reports previously I note) but she has no idea when I was doing this - especially after I raised my chastity and my deliberate efforts to be more romantic and submissive within that. Of course she doesn't know, she hasn't been keeping track at all, she's reaching. My reasoning for this digression? I'm not sure about hugs now. Now I know that there is no hope, that we are sexually incompatible, I am not sure how to proceed.

On Thursday I researched divorce. It costs £550 to apply. I cannot cite my own behaviour, my Father has pointed out that my cross-dressing would count as unreasonable behaviour and would likely result in Tilly getting the house at least. I'm not sure he's wrong. If it were contested. I checked out counselling to deal with the end of the relationship, it costs £60 a pop - so like my therapy cost - I can't afford that or a divorce. Good to know I guess, it's not like it would change anything, I haven't worn my wedding ring for about three years, we haven't really been married for a long time. Tilly has made that clear over the years.

Saturday, Tilly told me she'd seen a romantic poem about growing old together that she felt summed us up, but she had lost it. She's reaching. I am unclear how one can believe that after all that has been said on the matter over the last fortnight. For reference, she has told me that no outsourcing can take place under this roof - there can be no looking at porn, masturbation, dressing, communication on kink etc under this roof. Naive. Of course I already am. It's my fucking house too. I didn't illuminate her - what she doesn't know won't hurt her (as she said, I disagree) - so I can add that I am a liar to the litany of counts against me. Also, her demands are a little unreasonable in my estimation, so fuck them.

I had an evening off on Friday - Tilly and the children were out until late in the nearby city for the eldest to practice for a national show and for the boys to troop around with Tilly. I watched The Lobster whilst they were out, had a beer, had some me time. Fuck 'em. I liked the film. Over the weekend I have done my best to be helpful around the house and look after the children. Bloody-mindedness, I have some of it. And now I am not working again. I don't care. Can't afford divorce so... death? I dunno. I have looked at rents - there are some apartments for around £400 pcm, if I could find a way of having a car for cheaper than I currently pay I could maybe afford that. I can live off a surprisingly small amount per week. Tilly would have to shop on a weekend. Maybe if I ditch the car? Depends on rail costs to get to work. Hmm.

Why has this taken me so long?

2 comments:

  1. Everyone lies. Tilly has told some whoppers herself. In my experience, those with autism tend to be more forthright and blunt.

    I think giving up the hug efforts is healthy. If there is no affection, why pretend?

    Checking out the price of separating is good. Facts are useful, no? When we were at our worst, my wife and I concluded that we could not possibly afford two households. Might've ended otherwise. So, we relearned how to live with one another on different terms. YMMV.

    Chin up, girl. It takes two to fuck up a marriage.

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    Replies
    1. Hey girlfriend!

      Thank you for that, you are right on all counts. There has been movement since this entry, funnily enough, but life has got in the way of me writing about it just yet. But that too is a good thing, I think. A recent conversation about just how 'needy' (my word) I am seems to have actually made some positive changes. And we had another Big Conversation before then where Tilly professed not to know that 'not being sexually compatible' was synonymous with 'we're never having sex or intimacy again'. She expressed regret she had used that term and promised to try again.

      And, to be fair, she has. Okay, it's early days, but there we go. I reach a low ebb and things pick up, of course.

      And yes, I get entirely what you mean about being financially unable to split the household leading to relearning how to live with someone. Okay, so far it's just me, but that is a mileage that so far hasn't varied very much.

      Gah, babbling, main points: thank you; good to hear from you again; hope Easter is treating you well!

      Joanna

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!