Day Sixty Seven

Went to church this evening and, as usual, my head starting filling with all sorts of questions while the pastor was speaking.  For some reason, I feel powerful, able and confident in church.  The thoughts that cross my mind are always ones where I am in charge, I make the decisions, I call the shots.  They are usually ones that revolve around him leaving and me turning out just fine.  The thoughts are always about me deserving to be with one of these godly men among us, instead of this unholy, selfish, disgusting man.  I want to be with someone who LOVES me.  I just don’t always believe that he does.

After church, we have made it a ritual to find a quiet place to talk during the music worship, before we have to get the kids.  Today I asked him “Do you think there is anyone out there that you could love more than you love me?” To this he answered no.  So I asked “Is there anyone you could ever love just as much as me?”  He answered shortly, no. Then silence.  Then he started an entirely new conversation topic.  I couldn’t even look him in the eye, and he knew he had steer back.  So he did, he asked what brought those questions on and I answered, tears running down my face.  “Don’t you ever think we are wasting our time?  Don’t you want to find someone you love enough to not do this to?  You say I am the love of your life, yet you have never cheated on anyone before, so have you loved those women more than me?  I don’t know what you are going through because you don’t talk to me.  I don’t know if you are able to pretend that nothing happened and move on, because if you are tehn you obviously don’t understand how wrong you were in this.”  And so on… Then, the congregation was dismissed, he sat quietly, blankly (his usual confronted way) and I said “lets go get the kids, you obviously have nothing to say.” And that was it.  Nothing.  The rest of the evening was spent hardly recognizing eachothers existence.  We took the kids to get ice cream and had a great time as a family, but something was definitely lacking between us.  Here I go again, feeling like I am damaging our relationship with my big mouth questions, feeling at fault for bringing it up and worried that I am just driving him back into her arms for more comfort or whatever that little slut gave him. 

Bedtime arrived and I found myself lying next to this man who cant even tell me how sorry he is, or how much he loves me.  I cried a little more, and he reached out and held me.  He said he doesnt know what to do, that he IS sorry that he DOES love me but thinks he is showing it rather than saying it.  It all makes me wonder if my expectations of what remorse looks like are just a little too high.  I dont know what to do either.