Pieces

I am a giver.  Which  is well and good.  And I took to heart the verses about putting others above yourself.  Loving others.  Do unto others.  For twenty years I have done so.  Ok, really only 19....because last year I said enough.  And it makes me wonder if I'm some kind of heathen.  I know that God loves me.  I know how great and good and kind He is.  But I have a hard time believing that He would really want me to give away all of me that He made so that everyone else can be happy while I am miserable. 
And then he says those words, "it's not supposed to be about happiness."  And I cringe.  And I, heathenishly think, "why the hell not?"  But if I use a curse word, he'll tell me that I've hardened my heart.  That I should be kinder.  That I should show him more grace.  But I have.  Over and over again.  Given and given some more.
But the giving isn't what the problem is.  It's the being sucked dry.  Being drained.  Like I have been solely responsible to get everything and everyone filled back up again.  He whines about his relationship with his nearly grown kids when I told him over a decade ago what he would have to do to have a real relationship with them.  He tells me that he has rights.  He makes me feel small because he "doesn't go out drinking every night like some guys do."  As if that should be enough.  It is always and forever about exactly what he wants, how he wants it and what he needs.
Including sex.  If it hurts me that's ok.  If I can have an orgasm, that is good because it "makes it better for him."  And I want to scream.  How can I keep going like this.
But I looked at my grandson yesterday and my heart broke.  How can I be the one to break the hearts and hurt people I adore.  Must I suffer for the rest of my life so that people I love can live in comfort?  Isn't there a better way?
Can't I be myself?  Please just love me though I don't please you.  But you won't.  This I know for a fact.  You won't choose me.  You will make a show of being the good and kind and dutiful man, but it's all on the outside.  You have no compassion for those who have loved you most.  being your wife or child is a nightmare.  Because you are never pleased.
You choose to sodomize and condemn me with"isn't it my right?"  You shame and you guilt.  And you smile and call me "dear."  And I cringe.  I can barely be in this house when you are here.  Can hardly take a breath.  I long for breath.  I wish you would have the kindness to go.  But you do not.  Guilting me and causing shame makes you somehow feel better.
We could never really talk.  You would talk.  You wanted me to solve your problems.  To make life better.  To hear how hard it was.  You only prayed with me when you had trouble.  And when I mentioned that this made me feel badly, you never prayed with me again.  You have never given our children any spiritual training.  You sing in the choir.  Do solos.  Teach Sunday School.  Yet you have no real relationships. 
When I would try to talk with you, you would be busy.  Working.  Antsy.  Unless it was sex.  Or about you.  And if it was something troubling me that was about you, you would fight, put me in tears, argue for hours....and finally, after all of those hours, turn it about yourself and how I don't do enough to make you feel good.
And so, four years ago I thought it was over.  But then events conspired and I hoped that you had learned something.  That you would see me.  see us.  But you only see life as it pertains to you and what you want and how you want things.  And you smile and put on a front to convince me to come back to your bed.  To get me to think more highly of you so that I will return and make you feel happy enough. 
But I cannot.  Not without dying.  Completely being annihilated.  And it bothers me that you don't care.  That you still seek me out to fix your world.  Without ever having bothered to have known me.  Without caring to.  Maybe it's because you don't even know how to love yourself.  I don't know.  I don't have to know.
And I can't stay with you to keep the rest of the world in order for everyone else.  Just can't do it.  Though I love others and want to help them too.  I guess I've answered the question to my first blog.  He should go.