I married at 19, 7 months after first meeting my husband. Incredibly stupid(I know that now too well). The first year he had numerous non-physical(as far as I know), intimate affairs with other women. These affairs were intimate, sexually explicit, and intense. Worst of all, he would "share" the details of his latest infidelities with me, most times doing so as I balled my eyes out. Throughout the year, while I tried to rehabilitate him, I was often exposed to his "going-ons" with other women. These occasions would prove to be traumatic memories for the next two years. Aside from this, the other departments of our marriage consisted of a jealous mother-in-law who hated me for taking away "her man"(those were her words & she wasn't kidding), debts, lots, all his, which my father offered to pay for and my H promptly agreed to, bouts of unemployment, and just about complete disregard for my feelings, opinions, etc. I started getting angry (finally, after having been nice for too long) and at that stage there were shouting matches, vases smashed to the floor, arms grabbed forcefully; we both took part in this immature behavoir but I couldn't help feeling that after all he had put me through if I wanted to scream and maybe throw a shoe at him once in a while that I had some sort of right to. He didn't seem to think so, but instead of walking out he participated by throwing me to the bed, hitting me on the head with his palm, and on one occasion holding me by the throat against the wall for about two minutes. There never were any bruises, only red marks. Then, in January 1997, I moved his belongings to another room in the house and called it quits. In February he moved out, amidst pleas for my forgiveness and reconciliation, but I wouldn't bulge- I was ANGRY! I moved out the following month, in March. That was the first time I had ever lived alone. I couldn't even sleep the first weeks from fear of a break-in or something. I was then told by my H that his actions were due to the fact that he had been sexually abused by two men. This was a shock. I cried and cried for him, I felt so sorry for him, but I also felt so sorry for myself. I went for HIV testing that same week (gratefully it was negative). This sexual abuse had gone on for 6 years (from when he was 12 to 18 yrs. of age), and had been frequent(3-5 times a week), and my H had been the one to visit the abuser's home 3 blocks away from his own home, to be abused by these two men. From 14 on or so, he'd go over numerous times a week; his family knew of the abuse and buried it as a dirty family secret. I was confused, angrier, and I must admit disgusted. This was because when dating my H he had introduced me to one of these men as his friend, I'd wait in the car while he'd go in for a minute to visit him, my H even invited him to our wedding!!! This is what came to mind when he told me of his abuse; how could I not be confused? Why had the abuse seized 3 yrs. before and my H had remained "close friends" with that animal who had violated a 12 yr. old boy? This was too much for me, but we had so many problems anyway: we remained seperated for 11 months with no contact whatsoever(my choice). I began to love being on my own, although I was lonely. For reasons of religion, we didn't initiate a divorce and we didn't become involved with other people, although at times I wished he had so I'd be off the hook. In December of 1998, we reconciled after a year of no contact. Turns out he had been living for me. There were no more "other women", his mother was in her place(sort of). I thought no woman could ever be as fortunate as I. This was turning out to be the-ever-resilient , soul-mate connection I thought it'd be when I was 19. Three days after our first get-back-together date he was moved into my apt. One month later he was informing me that I wasn't the woman for him. There were tears on my part, but I chose to ignore our "differences" and just coast along. It's been a year since we "got back together" and although things are better than they were for our first year of marriage, I doubt if things are good enough. There are good aspects(the sex is not one of them), but lately for about 2 months, the fighting(this time around non-physical) is pretty constant. Most times, I feel that I hate him. I spend as much time out of the house as possible when he's around. Only on weekends do we both agree that it's better to go to the movies with eachother than alone, but often times I regret having made the decision to spend any time at all with him. For all practical reasons, our marriage should be enjoying great happiness at this time, but instead he tells me that "it was all a mistake and that I'm a stupid bit--" & I tell him that I hate his guts, among other things(I know, I'm ashamed). Last week I found out that he went to meet a girl at a cafe (but she didn't show). I was devastated. I didn't think he'd cross that line. He hasn't apologized for that, in fact he has found the way to blame me for his going to meet her. I can't believe it. This man seems to believe that he is my victim somehow; so, ironically, we both await reformations from eachother. I wouldn't have crossed the line that he crossed. I haven't. Now, I really do think it's too late to save. I believe this time around our marriage will end-forever. I know I haven't stated what I want to happen, and the answer to that is: I care and even love him very much, I always thought he'd be with me, I don't want to be alone. But, I also see a whole lifetime of promise for myself and I'm not sure if being with him is right or healthy, I'm not sure if it ever was. I have very distinct professional goals ahead of me (I'm Pre-Med). I also want to experience love with someone else. I want to know if it always hurts this much-if it's supposed to. <p>Thank you so much to all of you who hung in there in reading this long, drawn out version of my story. For me, just writing it has been very therapeutic. I would love to hear any advice, feedback any of you might have. I'm desperate. I can also be e-mailed at linger96@yahoo.com. Have a great day!!!