I know. I know this is about him, and not really about me. I know I am blaming myself, when I should be blaming him.
My therapist today said she was worried I was taking too much blame on myself. And I am, I know that I am. It's something I do, and it's easier to punish myself than anyone else. Who else can I punish, after all? It's not like there's anything I can do to punish him.
I have fantasies of sending all his friends an e-mail saying "I guess you've heard he's left me and our daughter because he can do better, and apparently is with a 25 year old." And then detailing his sexual inadequacies (...frankly, I can do better too...). I have fantasies of hurting him in some way (financially, physically, emotionally), but none are realistic and I'm smart and practical enough to know they'd only hurt me (and our daughter) in the long run.
I think I'm also preparing myself. In between the tears, I'm preparing myself for his moving out. Preparing myself to call the mediators, to start telling friends, to get this process going. And that makes me sad.
The other thing my therapist is talking to me about is how I deserve better. And I do. For the sake of our daughter, and the ease of my life, I'd like it is better was with him. But it's apparent that's not the case.
Over the weekend I was at the library and picked up a book called Overcoming Life's Disappointments. I left it on the hallway table and this morning I asked my husband why he had stayed up so late last night (as usual, his heavy tread on the stairs woke me at 3 am). He said he had picked it up to read, and that is was good. Gave him a lot to think about. I said, why would you read it? Dealing with the disappointment of being married to me?
He said no, dealing with the disappointment that was him. I asked what do you mean? And he just said it gave him a lot to think about. I asked what? And he snapped, jeez, what do you want from me? I whispered you know what I want, and walked out to take my shower. (I picked the book up for me, not him, so I was genuinely puzzled by his reading it).
Later in the morning, he said, I guess I just want you to know how much I appreciate the research you do, the thought you put into things, the way you present me with things to read. I was silent, then filled with anger. What the hell did that mean? So I asked him. Along with saying, I guess that means you'll miss your secretary? He said no, he didn't think of me as his secretary. I pressed further - what the hell? You're leaving - divorcing - me, you're having your second affair, you're breaking my heart, and you want to THANK ME for being a good researcher?!
He said, no, that's not what he meant, he wasn't thanking me, he was...and he stopped. I don't know what the hell he meant. I don't even know why I'm typing this out. It was so....so...WEIRD.
Last week I had sent him some links from Penelope Trunk's Brazen Careerist blog. One of my friends suggested her, for professional reasons, and while I don't always agree, I certainly admire what she's built, and find her provocative and thought provoking. She's having her own marriage troubles, too, and writes very honestly about her first day of marriage counseling and keeping marriages together - the two links I sent him. I went to the movies with friends on Friday night (yay me and trying for independence) and he told me Saturday morning that he had stayed up late Friday night reading her blog and other links. He did not say anything about what he read, or what he thought, and I didn't ask.
You know why I'm typing all this out? Of course you know. Because these two things give me yet another kernel of fucking hope. He's ambivalent and feeling guilty. And I need to remind myself that's not enough, and I deserve better.
I deserve better.
17 hours ago