Coming Home

Had to come home from the weekend away with my daughter and friends.  It's so hard.  I wish that it wasn't.  But wishing doesn't make it so.  Back to my couch.  Back to the horrible discomfort.  Not of the place I sleep...but of the emotional aspects of his always being here.  I turned off my computer last night when I really wanted to watch a show.  Laid and tried to go to sleep.....because I knew he'd be home in a few minutes from basketball.  I know that he wants to talk more.  Said he hoped that we would on Sunday.  K just want to be done talking for now.  I want for him to do what I'm asking.
I don't look forward to having him served with papers.  The thought traumatizes me.  I am not cruel.  And though I am hurting, I in no way relish harming him.  I just wish that he was the same for me.  I wish that he could see me.  And that it mattered.  That he would choose to help me instead of simply him.
He can't bear failure.  It grates against him like nothing else.  Always performing to win.  But I am not a trophy nor a prize.  I am a person.
And I am so very tired.
Going to be gone for four nights soon.  Yippee!!!! Can't wait for that.  And yet...there's the dread already.  Knowing that it will be hard to face the coming home.  It has been for years.  To love being home with my kids but to be so very uncomfortable.  It's painful.
Today I'm going to take care of me.  Rest.  Do what I need to do.  But just not worry....or at least as little as possible.
grace to you.