Letters to my husband

I married him four years ago and I cared for him deeply and I obviously thought he felt the same.

It wasn’t love but it was a mutual respect and admiration. We were best friends and we accepted each other’s imperfections.

We didn’t live together right away, he was not ready to move in and I wasn’t in a hurry to let him. It took three or four months and it was pretty smooth sailing.

I started to feel love for him, starting to fall in love and one drunken night I summoned up the courage to tell him.

It was three years ago, our first time going out. Ever. This was the first time he met my best friends, heard me singing. It was what I thought, a crazy, fun night.

We are lying in bed and I tell him I love him and he tells me that he already knew and that I shouldn’t fall in love with him. My husband told me not to fall in love with him. I cried and fell asleep.

Things were never the same. I took his words to heart and didn’t allow myself to fall in love. I cared for him and nothing more. When a man tells you not to fall in love, you listen to that motherfucker.

Four years later there is no marriage, there’s nothing but this very superficial existence. When he wants ass he comes home early and eats what I’ve prepared for dinner, asks if I want to watch a movie, fucks me and tells me goodnight

So much has happened in between that I have decided to share it with people who know nothing of me because it needs to come out I suppose. The disappointment and the daily humiliations.

I am not by any means a weak woman, in fact those who know me will say I AM the strongest woman they know and I suppose because I am so strong I am still standing with my head held up high and ready to end this when what has to be done has been done.

Letters to my husband will be my diary. My way of telling him all the things I won’t tell him to his face, not because I am afraid but because I feel sorry for him because once I leave him, he will never be the same.