We were supposed to have a counseling session last night, but got a call that my grandmother had passed away while enroute. It wasn't unexpected, but I took it very hard and by the time we got to the counselor's office my husband decided he wasn't going to put me through any more. We met with the therapist for maybe 20 minutes and went our separate ways. I was a basket case by the time I got home. The kids called him and put me on the phone and I told him I
really needed him. He told me he couldn't be here and that he was sorry and that made everything that much worse.<p>I forgave him for his affair; he acknowledged she is nothing but a sl** and while it never should have happened, it did. I don't know if I can forgive him for refusing to be here when I needed him the most. That's not to say he was nasty or indifferent about it; he was quite obviously very upset about it. But still, I needed him more than I have ever needed him before and he wasn't here.<p>And he cried as he told me not to give up on him; not to give up on us. That if I give up he doesn't think he can "carry the load" (I forget how he put it exactly - and isn't that what
I've been doing all this time?). That he "loves" me but he can't be here for me. That we are being "tested". I don't think I'm gonna pass this one if something doesn't change
NOW.<p>After nearly a month of separation - our 30-day trial separation - he is no closer to "figuring it out". Frankly, I don't expect him to move back next weekend.<p>And now I'm not sure I want him to and that realization breaks my heart. I know how I felt last night and I don't want to feel that way again. I do not trust him - not that he would betray me again with another woman, that he won't be there for me. That's worse. And that's what I have said all along: the ULTIMATE betrayal here is his non-commital to working through this mess. The affair is nothing in comparison. I told him I didn't do anything to deserve this. He said I don't deserve a fifth of what has been done to me.<p>SO MAKE IT STOP DAMN IT!<p>I asked him the other day if he had considered that maybe he is suffering from depression - everything he has told me I have read here and in other places and I strongly believe he is. He said that might be true. I encouraged him to get medication; he once again told me that, while it may be childish, he just doesn't hold faith in that. Never mind that changing our son's medication has made all the difference in the world.<p>He told me last night, before we got the news of my grandmother's passing, that his therapist told him that he is in danger of becoming my "her". After he had been hurt enough by her pulling away, he finally told her to get f*****. His therapist told him that he is in danger of my doing the same thing to him. How timely that information is. Because after last night I can feel it happening.<p>At this point I almost want to tell him that the time he has to "figure it out" is limited to how long it takes for someone else to show interest in me. I am tired of choosing my words. Tired of being lonely; tired of being alone. I need to feel loved; empty words - words without action - just don't cut it. Feeling like a hug and a kiss are being given only because I expect it doesn't do it for me.<p>Angry? Finally. Hopeful? Yes and no. I don't know. I just don't know anymore.<p>We're flying out Friday for the funeral - kids included. I've arranged to stay in a 2 bedroom apartment at one of the properties my company manages. I wonder if we'll even sleep in the same bed. And I wonder if that'll decide it for me.<p>I have been told countless times how I have the patience of a saint. But even they have their limit. Am I about to find mine?
