KNOWING WHERE I STAND

Once again a different post was started, and this one is going up instead.

I am a tool, a convenience, something to be used and relied on when needed or wanted, but put aside when not required. I have asked for one thing and one thing only, and that is asked for only out of concern and worry, and it is so fucking easy to do that I am completely fucking crushed that it is so god-damned hard for her to do it. I need this one fucking thing to have some kind of piece of mind, and she fucking knows it and just doesn't fucking care, if she did it wouldn't keep happening over and over. Maybe I am being unreasonable, but given all the weird shit that has happened I don't think it is too much to ask for, especially on the weekends and after one of these episodes of his.

I was going to write about all the things I felt, and all the things I wanted and how I wanted the rest of my days to play out, and what I wanted to do for her and how I wanted us to share so many different things. But, now as i write this, and after she has finally gotten in touch with me and can only give me short little responses to my outpourings of heartache and worry and hurt, and it is clear I am only keeping her up and annoying her, I just feel like I died inside. Everything I have given to her I have done freely and without regret. Every emotion, feeling, every ounce of love and passion I can muster has been hers. And I can't get words of comfort or understanding when I so desperately need them- just polite short responses. She spends more time and effort trying to accomodate and please her fucking dirtbag husband then she does when I need it.

Fuck it- I never expected to ever find true love in the first place, so why am I so devasted and broken now.

The wind is howling outside- it is constant and angry. I will be heading out into it shortly. I will find a spot, stand there, and just let everything empty out. It will be a cold, angry, lonely spot- but it will be mine, and instead of fooling myself about what is or might be, at least now I know where I stand.

It is a dark, lonely, painful place, and it is probably exactly where I belong.

So why does it hurt so fucking much?