pyroguysr's Diaryland Diary

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The separation is growing steadily between Mary-Claude and I. The last time we talked, she said, "We'll still have the phone calls and texting and RenFair, right? We'll still visit each other? We'll still be friends?"

"Yes, we'll still be friends."

But I've been the odd-man-out since I got here. I wanted to live as a couple - as a family - and I never got that option. I've had little or no input to your children other than when they turned to me to vent. And they've even stopped doing that. They're teens now, so that is somewhat understandable, but they don't come down from their room to greet me (unless they want something from me) and, with this feeling of isolation that I have, it hurts far too much when they do that.

Maybe by listening without comment, I made it easier for them to talk to you, Mary-Claude, and for that I am glad. But it does hurt to have always been in the shadows, stuck on a high shelf, and pulled out only when you needed a companion for a dinner party.

Neither of us wanted to marry again. Neither of us "needs" the other, but I thought we "wanted" the other in our lives. Maybe you still do. I'm not sure what I need any more. What I wanted was a soft touch from time to time, a cuddle and some kind words of understanding... a phone call or a visit at times to let me know I wasn't alone - the very things I provided you. You tried to reciprocate in your fashion, but you did it monetarily - which you learned from your parents - and, while I'm grateful, it wasn't what I hoped for.

What I see is that you were stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying to please your parents, trying to "do the right thing for your kids" and trying to make me feel as if there was some hope for our future. But that hope faded over these last two years until there is barely a flicker left.

I still love you. In many ways, I still want you in my life. But you're juggling too many balls and I can't compete. I've been hurt too many times by others and I'm losing my ability to love, to be tender, to care, to be sensual, to be erotic, to express my emotions. I'm becoming more and more of a hollow shelled hermit whose "id" is protected by a very thick emotional wall that only allows anger and the desire to hurt - allowing only the Schadenfreude - to seep through.

And I will hate that version of me.

Basically, what this means for me is that, when I return to "home", I will be keeping opinions to myself - partly because I am angry to the point of being acerbic and partly out of fear of people taking umbrage and alienating any of the few friends I have left. By remaining silent, I will either give the impression that I don't care what people think or that I am simply self-censoring; "biting my tongue" as it were, so that I don't offend. Neither is good because it will lead to isolation once more.

I am hoping that by going back to home base and being among family and friends, I will recover the lost bits of me. But I've become very wary of people. I know who my true friends are now. I'm just worried about the big gap between today and after I get there. I've no permanent place to stay, no money to secure it. I will need to get transportation first (which will use up the last of my savings) and then get a job. I'm trying not to think about it because it is a gaping hole in my plans and the chasm I need to jump is huge.

*takes a deep breath* Wish me luck.

1:19 p.m. - 2015-06-19

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