Folded--Queen of a Broken Heart

My husband left me. He packed his bags and left. He’s been waiting to do it for a long time. He waited until after the holidays. He’s fed up with being suspicious of me. He told me that he loves me and that I’m sexy and beautiful and a good mother, but he doesn’t trust me anymore. The truth is I don’t exactly deserve to be trusted. I’m not sleeping with anyone or physically cheating on him, but as usual I’m searching for men who might make good friends, since I don’t have an amiable connection with my husband.

And honestly, I have been half-heartedly looking for someone who would make a loving, trustworthy, fun and sexy boyfriend or even second husband—and I’m flirting with infidelity.

I’m married to a poker playing addict with a bad temper. He plays cards online almost every evening when he comes home from work, during dinner (If he comes to the table at all he eats very quickly and then runs back to the computer) and after I’m in bed. He plays poker as soon as he wakes up on his days off from work. He even played poker on Thanksgiving, our anniversary (I even opened my gifts while he played cards), Christmas and New Years Eve and Day.

He fucked me under his desk on New Year’s Day while he was playing cards online--twice in fact. A few minutes before our company arrived for champagne brunch, he grabbed me in the kitchen and drug me into the office, while the coffee was brewing and the bacon and sausage were frying. I called out to my daughter to watch the pan. He ripped off my clothes and bent me over the desk. He was on break from a tournament and I was his sex toy while he waited for the dealer to return.

Shortly after our guests left he wanted me again, but he was still in a poker tournament, so he pushed me under the desk. Otherwise I was ignored or treated with a contemptuous air. I’m his little fuck whore. I get under the desk so I can suck his cock while he waits for a good hand and then I get on my hands and knees so he can squirt his seed into me. I’m really good at playing the role of invisible wife until he grows hungry for grabbing at my breasts and ripping off my jeans. Sex with him is really fantastic. Otherwise our relationship is pathetic and sad.

We spoke on the phone yesterday afternoon. We talked about our last dinner and shopping experience together. He treated me like he treats his mom--with seething impatience, cruelty and intolerance. He was temperamental and rude. It was stressful to be walking beside him since I didn’t know what he might say or do next to hurt my feelings or embarrass me.

He’s constantly overtired since he stays up most of the night playing Xbox live or poker and then his mood is extraordinarily childish. He acts like a spoiled five-year-old who has no concept of how he appears to others or makes others feel. I often find myself hating him and then feeling guilty for it.

I cried on the phone with him yesterday. It’s heartbreaking that we don’t like each other anymore. We love each other, but we don’t like each other. We don’t trust each other and we don’t make each other happy.

We share two kids who we adore.

I wish we could have found tender friendship.

I wish he would have offered me warmth beyond what his lust for my body inspired.

I wish he would have hung out with me more instead of playing poker or his other hobbies.

I wish I didn’t feel so lonely in our marriage.

I wish that he wasn’t explosive, abusive and dangerous.

I wish that it didn’t melt me when his deep voice said, “I love you, baby.”, while he embraced me.

I wish that I didn’t find him so physically attractive.

I wish that the fear and pain and anguish that he has caused me was enough to make me fall out of love and lust with him.

I hope that someday I won’t feel like such an unlovable failure.

I’m scared.

I’m heartbroken.

I’m not sure why love and lust wasn’t enough. I know it’s still there for both of us. It’s buried under hurt, mistakes, mistrust and fear.