Over and over, I take the same lies. The same dreading feeling that you’re going to fuck our life up again. I try to be happy. I do. We have a beautiful child, a stupid but good dog, and a house. To the rest of the world that seems like enough. But on the inside? They don’t see the yelling, the lies, the hidden email conversations or plots with old friends. I wait, like clock work to see what happens next. It will happen again. And over and over I fall for the same lines. Hoping you mean I’m sorry for real.
People ask me, “why don’t you leave?”. Because I’m ashamed. I made a bad choice and have to live with it. It isnt all bad, we have fun. Sex is good. But is that it? You don’t even seem to want me anymore. So again, what am I doing? Hell, even professionals have told you that you’re a sosicalpath. I say, but he loves me? Do you?….
In the end. I’m doomed to a cycle of pain, frustration and shame.