Emotionally Bankrupt - I have no more merde's left to give.
Even with as hard as I try, I have come to the sad realization that I am just plain and simply not worthy of being loved. I know that people care about me, and I know that Karen cares about me (and in the familial sense, she truly loves me); but there is no one out there that loves me in a sense where I am truly needed and desired.
I don't understand what is wrong with me, or why I am this way. But, as they say, the proof is in the pudding. I have no intimate love life, and it can only be because there is something fundamentally wrong with me.
I am surrounded by people I care about, yet I am so utterly alone. At the end of today, I will have tried some way to be romantic and loving. And at the end of the day, I will fall asleep with no one but my dogs by my side. Just like this past night, when all I asked for was 5 minutes of affection (story time).
I don't blame my wife, and I'm not mad at her. Like I said, there is something fundamentally wrong with me, or there is something I have done, to deserve this life of stipulated celibacy. Furthermore, I am completely at a loss as to anything that can be done to remove this curse that is upon me.
I try to be romantic. I try to be supportive in all things. I listen carefully for the thins that I believe will make my wife happy, and I eagerly do them with all haste. I try to be a better father, husband, housemate, provider... I try to plan special events along the way to show my love and appreciation; but I repeatedly fail miserably. This journal is a testimony to that fact. One need only look at just the past 365 days to see all of the hopes and plans, that never came to any success, because I just plain and simply SUCK.
I have decided to give up entirely, on planning for any future hopes, dreams, or events. In reviewing this past year or so, it becomes painfully obvious that there is some supernatural force working against me, in this regard. My ideas or plans don't just fail to work out, they begin seemingly simple enough, and build in to an exciting crescendo; only to be ripped out from beneath me at the very last moment.
So, I am either cursed, or haunted by a maligned spirit that is hell bent on seeing me suffer; or I am subconsciously sabotaging myself at the final moment of every endeavor. And, unless I am unaware of some dual personality that emerges from the other side of my conscious mind, it's not me.
I almost want to delete my entire journal from 2016. Going back and reading it all has pulled me into a very dark depression. There are highlight moments tucked away in there (like Valentine's Day); but so much of the year reads like a love sick fool, declaring his love and affections for a lover who didn't even know he existed in the first place. A fool, declaring his plans for shared hopes and dreams; but in reality no one heard him but himself.
I am that lonely old fool. And it would seem that is my lot in life.
I dream of things I will never have. I'm just the room mate, fantasizing about being the lover.
The bubble has popped. The fantasy shattered. The dreamer has awaken.
I am too tired to continue this story. I give up...
I give up.
I don't understand what is wrong with me, or why I am this way. But, as they say, the proof is in the pudding. I have no intimate love life, and it can only be because there is something fundamentally wrong with me.
I am surrounded by people I care about, yet I am so utterly alone. At the end of today, I will have tried some way to be romantic and loving. And at the end of the day, I will fall asleep with no one but my dogs by my side. Just like this past night, when all I asked for was 5 minutes of affection (story time).
- It has been 100 days since I last had coital intimacy with my wife. (A "quickie")
- It has been 160 days since we last made love, where I was allowed to focus on her pleasure as well as mine.
- In all of 2016, we made love a total of 5 times.
- 02 JAN 16
- 09 JUL 16
- 11 SEP 16
- 25 SEP 16
- 24 NOV 16
- It has been 745 days (That's 2 years and 14 days, including a leap year day) since my lover initiated sex and reached out to touch me in a sexually intimate way. Even then, she felt obligated, because I had spent and entire week begging or a Birthday Blow Job.
I don't blame my wife, and I'm not mad at her. Like I said, there is something fundamentally wrong with me, or there is something I have done, to deserve this life of stipulated celibacy. Furthermore, I am completely at a loss as to anything that can be done to remove this curse that is upon me.
I try to be romantic. I try to be supportive in all things. I listen carefully for the thins that I believe will make my wife happy, and I eagerly do them with all haste. I try to be a better father, husband, housemate, provider... I try to plan special events along the way to show my love and appreciation; but I repeatedly fail miserably. This journal is a testimony to that fact. One need only look at just the past 365 days to see all of the hopes and plans, that never came to any success, because I just plain and simply SUCK.
I have decided to give up entirely, on planning for any future hopes, dreams, or events. In reviewing this past year or so, it becomes painfully obvious that there is some supernatural force working against me, in this regard. My ideas or plans don't just fail to work out, they begin seemingly simple enough, and build in to an exciting crescendo; only to be ripped out from beneath me at the very last moment.
So, I am either cursed, or haunted by a maligned spirit that is hell bent on seeing me suffer; or I am subconsciously sabotaging myself at the final moment of every endeavor. And, unless I am unaware of some dual personality that emerges from the other side of my conscious mind, it's not me.
I almost want to delete my entire journal from 2016. Going back and reading it all has pulled me into a very dark depression. There are highlight moments tucked away in there (like Valentine's Day); but so much of the year reads like a love sick fool, declaring his love and affections for a lover who didn't even know he existed in the first place. A fool, declaring his plans for shared hopes and dreams; but in reality no one heard him but himself.
I am that lonely old fool. And it would seem that is my lot in life.
I dream of things I will never have. I'm just the room mate, fantasizing about being the lover.
The bubble has popped. The fantasy shattered. The dreamer has awaken.
I am too tired to continue this story. I give up...
I give up.