Not Every Day

I think I have to stop forcing myself to write every day -- some things are not worth writing about and sometimes I don't really have anything to say that is relevant.  Going forward I will write about my feelings and new activities in my life.

Saw David last evening before he went over to Josh's for dinner - Monday is his day to rotate dinner with one child's family or another.  He stops by here on Mondays after work and before meeting up with whoever has him for the evening. Why do I cut short whatever I am doing to rush home to see him when I get upset most times that I do see him?  I still don't understand what happened and can't believe that he has absolutely no feelings for me -- but his lack of caring is  more and more evident each time he is here.  I always end up feeling worse after each meeting.  Guess part of me still expects this to go away or heal with time.  But what is happening is that he is drifting farther and farther away from me into his complacency and he is perfectly comfortable (even happier) NOT being here.  At this point his stop-bys  have become more a function of picking up his mail than anything else.  Although our conversations seem normal, I find it so insulting when he starts checking his watch to see when he can get away and be off for at least another week.  Think I am going to avoid being here next week when he comes.  I have a meet-up to go to and might be able to go straight from Josh's.

Sadly, I have begun to think of when we first got married and am seeing things I suppressed for so long.  The year before we married, David had moved into "our" apartment for his first year of Medical School.  I was completing my last year of college and still living at home.  We got married as soon as I graduated at the end of that year.  But instead of feeling welcome into "our" home, I always felt he resented my showing up and taking away his independence.  After we got married and I moved in permanently, he preferred spending time with his new friends from medical school.  I was so miserable and lonely the first year of our marriage.  Why did I put my misery aside and decide to settle for someone who clearly didn't love me as much or in the manner I wanted to be loved?  Why did I think this was just the way it was supposed to be?  I was a 22 year old idiot who wanted to get out of my mother's house, so I built a relationship on a  shaky foundation and accepted things as they were.  What may be the most amazing thing of all is that a  relationship that probably never should have been last for 42 years.