Telling Him/Reality Hits Me Square in the Face

So, I told him. One of the hardest things I've ever done.

He went through the gamut of emotions- understanding, intense sadness, anger, denial.

Our therapist suggested that before we decide to split, we need to work on our own individual issues about relationships, because regardless of what happens between us, we need to be healthier. Once we got to a healthier place, then we could think about what we were going to do about us. Part of this was that talking about the marriage was off-limits until then. I needed that assurance, especially, because my emotions were so ever-present, that I was prone to having outbursts of anger, sometimes rage. For the next month we tried to co-exist amongst an impossible emotional climate.

Then, he decided to leave for a while. He just couldn't take it anymore, not knowing what I'm thinking, feeling, all my mood swings. He wouldn't tell me where he was going. He said that he wouldn't come back until he felt he'd made significant progress with his own personal issues, and there were a couple of other conditions I don't remember. I was glad to see him go. It was a breath of fresh air. He was disappointed that I was so eager for his departure.

For a month we were separated. At the end of that month he wanted to come back. He told me this as we sat in front of our therapist. She said that I should only have him back if I felt I could really try to having loving feelings toward him. I knew I couldn't, but I said 'sure' anyway, because at this point I was so sure divorce was inevitable.

After a few days we were back in her office. He broke down and cried; his heart was broken. How that would affect me was not something I had considered. Then, when he calmed down, he and I were just at each other's throats. Our therapist told us that if this is what our relationship would be post-divorce, our children were doomed.

That was all it took, and I agreed to work on the marriage.

I suggested a deadline. Six months. He agreed. But that soon went down the toilet, because he was expecting us to hold hands and perhaps have sex as part of 'working on the marriage.' I thought he was losing his mind.

So back to working on personal issues and shelving the marriage issues. This was beyond frustrating for him. But I told him the ball was in his court. If he couldn't stand doing this again, then he could hit the road. This was a little over a month ago.

Sidenote: I think my story is unique in the way that most mixed-orientation marriages we hear about end up in the husband acting on his homosexuality. My husband, to my knowledge, has not. Sometimes I wish he would! It would make this so much easier for me. Because, if I'm being honest, there is a little voice inside me saying, "Suck it up! This life is short. So what if you may have to go without the core of what a relationship should be between a man and a woman, but you need to be grateful for what you do have and stop whining."

Now before you freak out, let me make it clear that I hate that voice. I shun the voice. I know that because of the lack of the core that I should have in a relationship, I am constantly frustrated, short-fused with my kids, and incomplete.

Back to the uniqueness-he hasn't acted on it (unless you count the porn/masturbation combo). I've fallen out of love with him. I'm the one that wants to end it, not the other way around (you know, the gay spouse wanting to come out and live the life).