I just don’t get how you still even have all of that stuff. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I made a stupid mistake years ago and I didn’t keep souvenirs. When you found out I never talked to her again. I erased every trace and thought of her and it was like she didn’t exist. But you get to keep making your mistakes and enjoying them. I almost believe that you’re doing it in the knowledge that if you get caught I won’t leave you and you’ll get to keep all the stuff.
This is OUR money, not yours. I know you feel guilty. That’s why I can’t say these things to you. You’d cry and get more depressed and I would feel awful and then we’d be back to not talking for a week and our kids would suffer. But I don’t think you really understand how much this is breaking our marriage. You say that the stuff isn’t more important to you than I am or the kids are, but it is. You haven’t sold it, you haven’t thrown it away, and I can see that you’re still filling your online baskets with crap every day. You haven’t bought it yet but it’s only a matter of time.
How is it fair to make me be the only adult? Why do I have to check the bank every day? Why do I have to go through the mail looking for credit card statements? Why do I have to look at receipts to make sure you’re not stealing cash? That’s what it is, it’s stealing. It’s your money too, I get that. But when you take it and you spend it on toys and we can’t afford to fix our backyard so our kids can play and yet you still get to go to ny for a week to hang out with your friend…. how is that fair?
I hate you. I love you and I hate you. I hate what you’ve done over and over and over through the years and that every time it’s gotten worse. I hate that you think your depression or your “mental illness” is some sort of justification. You think you’re the only one that’s depressed? I have to listen to my books or play games on my phone or watch my little tv in the kitchen constantly because I can’t be alone with my thoughts. The only thing I can think of is leaving you and starting over. I hate that thought. I want our marriage and our kids but I can’t be the controlling husband. This isn’t a romantic comedy and you’re not the Shopaholic who charmingly finds a way to solve her addiction with a clever quip and a handsome hero. This is the real world and you’re breaking our marriage.
I know what your family thinks of me. I know that your mom thinks I’m that controlling asshole who won’t let you spend any money. I know that you told her that you “bought some leggings but it wasn’t like 1000 bucks or anything.” You’re right it wasn’t. It was actually around $1400 adding in the different sources. In THREE MONTHS. So your mom thinks I almost left you because you bought a few pairs of pants and she tried to give you $200 to make things better. And you didn’t correct her.
I get it. I didn’t tell anyone when I cheated on you. Well that’s not true a few of my friends know but I didn’t tell my parents. But I also didn’t complain about you being jealous for no reason and making my life miserable, because that’s not true. I mean it’s true that I was miserable and your jealousy was out of control, but it was for a damned good reason and I knew better than to complain about it. Do you have any idea how much it fucking sucks to be around your parents right now? And your mom has probably shared that with your dad and your sister and I just don’t even want to see them. Maybe they aren’t judging me but I can’t stop thinking that they are and wanting to scream the truth.
I don’t know how much there is left to say. I made the decision to pretend to be okay. It’s all a sham but you probably know that. What you probably don’t know is how much this is killing me and how much damage it’s done to us. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t want to be your husband. I don’t want to raise our kids with you.
I will. Because I DO want those things. I want them with the wife who didn’t drag our marriage through shit because she couldn’t stop buying toys. I want them with the wife who doesn’t lie to me, constantly, even when confronted with the truth over and over. I think back on our marriage now and all I see is lies. Every gift I bought you is cheapened because you already bought yourself something better and lied to me about it. Every time I pampered or spoiled you it was just a joke because you were sucking money out of our accounts and buying whatever you damned well wanted.
And how in the name of god am I supposed to worry about your feelings on top of everything else? I don’t want you to be depressed and anxious and all that but I can barely look at you. I wonder how much you worried about my feelings after I cheated on you? How interested were you in making sure that I wasn’t being negatively affected by your anger and suspicion? And how long did it take for things to get back to anything like normal? And you got pissed at me when I slept downstairs for three nights? Who the hell do you think you are?
I know I’m not going to send this to you and you’re not going to ever see it but I have to type it to someone even if it’s only me. I can’t even say these things to my 2 friends who have any idea at all what’s going on because it would show them too much of what’s really happening. If anyone, including you, knew how close I was to filing for divorce then it probably would push us over the edge.
This has served its purpose. I’m calm now. The anger has bled away. I might come back and write again if I need to, but probably not. I’ve never been one to let my emotions out into the world (which is probably why you think you’re the depressed one in our marriage.) I’m glad I did this, even if there’s no actual solution or even the hint of one. Things will just keep going the way they’re going.