The Chosen Family

Last week, we celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary.  The Wednesday before, his submissive was injured badly but nothing critical and was hospitalized.  He was vigilant to her bedside Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.  Saturday and Sunday we stayed at home.  Not much happened.  Monday, was our anniversary.  I had only gotten him a card.  A simple one with a small message that I'm sure didn't give much hope to us working this out.  He in return, gave me nothing.  No card, no gift.  Second year in a row for no gift.  Does any of this sound familiar?

As I sat on the couch beside him, he said he thought we should go to the beach.  I accept the offer and we spontaneously jumped in the car and went.  It took me awhile to relax with him.  But this type of spontaneous is what I have been missing and so I began to enjoy myself.  We drove to Seaside along Hwy 30.  Had Mexican food for lunch, and then walked out to look at the ocean for about 30 minutes before heading back to the car.  We hadn't been to Seaside since the night after our last therapist meeting together, when he told me he needed to check in with his sub because he hadn't told her where he was going.  There's a blog post about that somewhere in here.

Down Hwy 101 we drove through the day.  At Manzanita beach we stopped and walked out onto the sand.  There, we sat against a log, watching the beauty of the beach, the ocean, and trying to hold on.  Back in the car, we continued to drive, finally hitting Lincoln City.  It was getting late and we needed dinner.  As we searched for a place to eat, he asked me what I wanted to do.  I said I wanted to get a hotel room overlooking the ocean, have dinner, and stay the night at the beach (something I've wanted for quite some time).  We booked a room at The Inn At Spanish Head, a resort hotel on the beach.  We dined on the 10th floor, overlooking the ocean.  It was comfortable.

I asked him that night in the hotel room, what might happen if/when his submissive and her husband were no longer.  How she would rely on him to be the one and only solice for her.  He told me he couldn't take on that role.  I wanted to believe him.

The next morning, she was to go into surgery.  He texted with her until she was scheduled to go under.  And we headed home.  He had a lesson in the evening.  Then, he went to the hospital to be there when his sub got out of surgery.

Wednesday, he texted me about her status, and I tried to be supportive.  I had not said anything against his need to be at her bedside.  I just let it go.  Wednesdsay night at 2:30am my phone rang.  It was his submissive.  Crying uncontrollably and asking for my husband.  I gave him the phone.  She had run out of pain meds and the nurses were getting the orders to give more.  She was in pain, I understand that.  But what happened next, I cannot think anyone would be ok with.  My husband asked me if he could get out of our bed at 3am to go be with his submissive in the hospital.  If I had said no, then once again, I am the monster,, the villian, the wicked which of the west.  He would have laid there feeling resentful and she would have demonized me to all of the community for something she herself would not have allowed to happen to her.  Where was her husband, her family?  I know the pain was great, but to call someone elses husband in the middle of the night to come be with you in the hospital, where there are people to take care of you, and it isn't like they are going to let you sit there all night without pain medication.  This is an example of the disrespect I have been shown throughout the affair.

Yes, that is how I view it.  It turned from a D/s relationship with the primary relationship being our marriages, to an affair.  I do not condone the affair, I don't even like it, but it is something that he will refuse to change and that is his choice.  He will be the one who has to live with his choices.

The rest of the week, he was in her hospital room every night.  She was to go home over the weekend and so he stayed home as well.  Already disconnected from him in order to preserve some portion of dignity and to keep from throwing glass objects at him, I remain quiet.

In Darkness

Darkened creatures from Outer Space,

pain that turns your blood to paste.

The inner you that shreds apart,

from you to them a new life starts.

And ashes lie where once there was love,

the clouds of others turn above.

A wind of change is coming through,

your last breath wishes for safe and new.

You’ve joined the creatures with blackened hearts,

they too feel when sorrow starts.

And feed upon any light that tries,

as hopes and dreams and forever dies.

Well THAT Didn't Help

Last night we went to cow sorting.  He had been overly attentive all day long via text.  That is the norm for after an argument when he has been neglecting me.  But its forced and I feel it.   Just like when he has sex with me after I tell him I can't live without affection.  It happens once, maybe twice if I'm lucky.  Imagine that.  Considering myself lucky just because my husband has sex with me.  Yea, I know, pretty fucking pitiful.

Anyway, we got to the sorting late and there wasn't our normal parking area available so he chose to park next to his submissives trailer.  Not that we couldn't have parked over on the other side or at least farther away from her trailer, but like so close my horse could have kicked out and busted her side mirror (hmmmmm).

Anyway, when we are all the way across the lot, I can have that space between she and I where I can get away when I can't stand the sight of her face or the sound of her annoying voice.  Parked right next to her, really?  Nice incensitivity.

So yea, I was pretty upset.  My horse was acting stupid.  I really had a sucky time.

I really need to just stop going.

Traditions Old and New

I’ve never had many traditions in my life growing up.  We had one thing I remember, and that was our Christmas stockings.  They were those long white old fashioned sock stockings that seemed to stretch sideways with no limitations.  I remember boxes of crayons, matchbox cars, a roll of scotch tape, an egg of silly putty.   A candy cane, carmels, and hard squigly candies that came with a coating of lint from the stocking.  A jawbreaker bigger than my mouth, brightly colored sweedish gummy fish from Newberrys, and at the very bottom, a large juicy ripe Orange.

Also, there was The Cinnamon Bear radio show.  5 days a week, starting on Thanksgiving evening, we would sit quietly for 30 minutes and listen to Jimmy and Judy and PaddyO Cinnamon chase the Crazy Quilt Dragon looking for their silver star to place atop the Christmas Tree.

And on the dark side, every summer, the lady on the end would get into a fight with her new boyfriend, they would come crashing through the screen door, out onto the front lawn, where they would fight and she would end up stabbing him.

I know, not the faery tale life, but then again, I don't have one now either.

I created traditions in our childrens lives so that they would have something special to remember.  I attempted to bring all that was shared with me about my husband life growing up, the traditions they had into the lives of our children as well.  What they remember or liked about any of those traditions, may be seen in years to come if they themselves carry on with those same traditions or if they bring them into the lives of their own children.  Yes, one day, I would love to have grandchildren.

But this post isn’t about those traditions. It’s about the feelings I am having watching what traditions my husband and I shared together, slowly disintegrate and drift away.  Little by little, there is nothing left.  And while he is the one making these decisions, there is a part of me that also blames his submissive for her part in all of this.  Right or wrong, it’s how I feel, so fucking deal with it, because I have to.

I have struggled to maintain some sort of normalcy in our lives since we decided to open our marriage and allow love, sex, and non monogamous interactions with others.  I always thought that the examples I was setting, would be seen as a doorway of how to do things properly.  If I was doing something in those examples that was wrong, it certainly was not communicated to me.  The rules that we set forth TOGETHER would have no problem being followed simply because they were agreed upon by both of us.  I was so fucking naïve.

When our children left home many asked what would we do now that we had an empty house.  I wasn’t worried because we shared so much, I thought.  We had the horses, we loved bull riding, and went to the rodeo every year.  We wanted to camp.  There was so much ahead for us.

Now, he doesn’t hardly ride his horse except for Sorting and trails if we go camping.  Now, I find myself camping alone for 2 nights because he had no priority of his marriage and would not reschedule a weekly playdate in order to maintain our tradition of our Friday/Saturday/Sun camping trips.  Now I find myself going to the Ross Coleman Invitational alone on Friday night, because again, his playdate is more important than the traditions in our marriage.  Yes, this makes me angry beyond belief.  Yes, it makes me sad as well.  And yes, it makes letting him go that much easier for every tradition, every holiday, everything that he shows he cares less and less about, including me.

I will say, we did go to the 4^th of July rodeo at St Paul this year and we did see the bull riding event in St Paul so there were 2 things we were able to hold onto for now.  I don’t hold much hope though.  Not if I’m truthful with myself.

Now, I find myself creating my own traditions.  I will have to make my own arrangements to continue to do the things I enjoy doing, that we enjoyed doing together, but that I find he doesn’t find as important anymore.  I find that the only person I should rely on, is going to be me.  I was a fool for believing it could be any other way.

Happy Mothers Day

Not really.
I'm hurt.  What's new right?
I got a beautiful card.
I got time to physically be together without interruptions of the relationships with others.
But no Mothers Day gift.

This started Mothers Day last year.  That GodAwful weekend when I shared my special day and my daughters graduation weekend doing what I thought was the right thing to do.  Not realizing I would be in this fucked up mess still a year later.

No Mothers Day gift last year, no Anniversary gift, and when we had to cancel our anniversary weekend, I was promised we would still get to go, and that hasn't happened.  No Valentines day gift.  And now a year later, no Mothers Day gift again.

What's the definition of insanity?  Continuing to believe I can still salvage a relationship that is already dead?  Yea, that's what it feels like.

I deserve better than this.  I deserve to be treated better than this.  I deserve to be special to someone.

And someday, I will be.

A Weekend Of Clarity

This past weekend was supposed to be a special event weekend for us.  We talked about it, planned for it, we were looking forward to getting to share our experiences and classes together.  Months ago, we put together our plan.  He and I would go to classes during the day together or separate and meet up after.  I would let him take his submissive to the parties for the evenings.  After all, the parties are where he would be able to show off his abilities and it was the right place for him to spend time with her.

She was, of course, upset that I would even dare want part of that weekend to be about me and my husband, for how dare I actually expect to have time with him considering he was HER Dominant.  I really should learn my place don't you think...

So as our relationship started deteriorating more and more, other options for me have started to show themselves.  Stuart asked me to help him with sales at his vendors booth and I was asked to hold a prestigious position as a Lead Dungeon Monitor for the large Kinkfest parties.  This would take up a large amount of my time and also give me free registration for the event.  I needed this to keep me focused on anything but my almost non-existent marriage.  I didn't want to be something he had to fit into his schedule with his submissive.  This allowed me to just worry about me and he could go be with who he wanted to be with.  I just didn't care.  Yet I did.  Stupid place to be.  Stupid way to feel.  But it is exactly how I felt.

Over the weekend, I was hit with how important I really wasn't to him.  Friday, Saturday, nights, I went home, alone, and not once did he bother to check on me and make sure I made it home safely.  He just didn't care.  Being beside someone else was more important to him.  It hurt the first night, it was annoying the second night.

As I saw him in the hallway at the end of the event, he was waiting for his sub to come out of the restroom.  He asked me for a hug.  It felt uncomfortable.  Forced.  I didn't feel loved.  I felt warmer receiving hugs from pure strangers during the day that I was just meeting than from the man I've spent the last 28 years with.  He told me they were done and leaving for home now.  I still had to clean up in the vending and pack up the cars.  He was going to feed the horses.  I figured he'd be home by the time I got there and then off to feed the horses.

I guess they just couldn't tear themselves away from each other, because I got home from the event 30 minutes before he did, even after cleaning up and loading out.  I guess again, I felt lied to that they were leaving.  Again, proving to me, that seeing me after being away from me for a whole weekend, was definately not a priority in his life.  We were supposed to have dinner together.  I didn't want to see him now.  So i texted him I was not hungry and was going to bed.  I took a shower, popped down 3 sleeping pills, and went into a deep sleep.  It felt wonderful to just disappear and not have to think about the mental and physical pain I was in.

He has been attentive today.  But its probably all to late.  He said he's getting the money he has coming to him for his bonus.  I'm sure it will give him everything he needs to treat his submissive to all the wonderful special dinners and gifts she deserves.  I don't want any of it.  I just want him to admit he doesn't really care anymore and to let me go so I can find someone who will love me.

Numbness

I went to bed early the night before.  With no desire to try.  Just sleep.  I felt someone climb in beside me.  Wrap their arms around me.  But still, it only feels like the arms of someone who cares.  Not someone who is in love with me.  And so it hurts even more.

We had our Wednesday night together.  A night when we are supposed to go to the club.  Find others to tie.  Practice our talents.  His "bathroom break" was really just an excuse to go "check in" with her.  I'm not stupid or naive.  It shouldn't matter, except that he never bothers to "check in" with me when hes on a date with her.  Why do I care so much when I know theres no hope.  I wish I could just shut my mind off.

Sometime in the short hours of sleep that we had, he began to touch me.  It felt good.  I let it flow.  But the toxic thoughts of why just kept running through my head.  It didn't feel like the love we used to make.  I kept silent.  He had told me he didn't like it when I talked.  So I lie there not really knowing how to enjoy the few moments he gave me.  I've put him in that position of no matter what he does, it's not right.   But I don't trust anyone anymore, and that, I do blame others for.

It will be a long 2 weeks.  I'll see him a bit tonight, and then, really, not again until Sunday night.  Then maybe a total of 12 hours before a party and then a weekend focused on trying to sell my stamps and other personal things to empty our storage.

Selling the M&M collections.  Selling the Coca-Cola collections.  Selling my Stamping supplies and stamps.  All of it is a slow way of chipping away at any memories we have.  All that will be left are pictures.  Maybe that's for the better.  Nothing to divide, nothing to fight over.  But then, I gave up fighting months ago.