Pushing the Resentment

After we fight we tend to be mad for a while. And then it just goes away. We always know our anger and frustration is a passing thing. That it's something to be felt and then pushed down, because it's never things that matter. They go away.

Tonight I crawled over my husband, kissing his neck, rubbing my breasts against his body, my tongue gently flicking over his ear. "Mmm.... you want it?" I asked him. He didn't reply. I asked again. Nothing. I lean back to look at him as he glares at the TV looking incredibly irritated. I moved off him, "you know, it's nice to know that my touch IRRITATES you, because maybe yours irritates ME, too." And then I went to the kitchen and got a huge drink... which I'm gradually feeling the effects of. I'll probably sleep through most of the effects since I'll be in bed soon. I came back in and finished watching the show that was on, going back to acting like things were normal, and being pissed off anyway.

After so much time having SUCH unsatisfactory sex, and being refused to the point where he becomes pissed off that I'm rubbing up on him during a COMMERCIAL, I'm not sure I even WANT to have sex with him anymore. I'm pretty much to the point where I'm ready to accept the fact that our sex life is simply dead and that even if he WANTS to have sex with me ever again, I'm not so sure I could bring myself to go along.

Maybe I'm just being reactionary. But, every time he refuses me part of my dies inside. And that he would look at me the way he did tonight... well... I don't even know what to think.

And when it comes to bed time, he calls me to "tuck him in." I lay down, well away from him vaguely drunk and played with one of the dogs. He kissed me, I could feel him trying to work up to kissing me more passionately, but I didn't respond... I had no desire to. "I'm sorry for being an asshole," he said. I gave him the most cursory of kisses as I left the room, calling the dog behind me.

What does he think I'm going to say? "That's alright. You're forgiven." It's not. And he's not. Whether he means to or not, he's breaking me.