On Sunday we have been married for 29 years. That is a lifetime – we have both been married for longer than we were single. We have had some great times, how ever would we have stayed together if we hadn’t. Equally we have had some difficult moments, not least the present. This year there will be no cards, no romantic meals – not even the pretence that we are happily married. No we won’t even see each other. Tomorrow you will tell me where you are off to for the weekend, personally I will find something useful to do; perhaps be with friends, who knows. Even though our marriage is on it’s very last legs, I will not be with Sir (and wouldn’t have been even if he hadn’t been working).
Today, I saw you for the first time in over 2 weeks. You were too busy to take me to the airport, too busy to join me on holiday, too busy to be here on my return. Yesterday on fathers day, your son was sad you weren’t here. Whether his failure to even text you was warranted, is between the two of you, after all, he is an adult now. It has been 7 months since I told you of my infidelity and 5 since the say I confirmed it by going off one Sunday to see my lover, leaving bereft at home. Since then we have not (as far as I can remember) spent one whole weekend together. You were away at Easter and even when I was away on holiday you spent few nights at home. You ask me to be patient with you. Say you don’t want to lose me. But even when I have offered to give up Sir you tell me that since it will make me unhappy you do not wish me to.
Both Sir and the friend I was on holiday with say that I now need to take control of this situation, and I know they are right. I am allowing myself to be treated just as badly now as I was before this happened. I know I have committed the worst sin possible within a marriage, and I have made no secret of this, but you did too. Granted it was many years ago, but the facts remain. You keep information from me – even tonight during the 30 minutes you were here having a shower and changing – refusing to tell me when you will be home, where you are going, where you stay, where your clothes are. You spend money recklessly and ask me for more.
You say you can’t give me what I need. Sexually, this is probably true. But even though I have offered to give this up you prefer to remain the martyr. If I am to be married, I need a husband, I need a loving relationship, I need to be cared for. You provide me with none of the above, yet you take all that you can.
I am reaching the end. Despite the fact I have most recently broken our wedding vows, I am the one currently feeling most deceived, most cheated upon. I think that after Sunday I will be ready.
I am sorry it has come to this, but I think that we need to face facts. We need to stop pretending and you need to realise that this is about more than sex, even if that sex is of the kinky kind.
I still care for you B, but I no longer love you as a wife should, I no longer respect you. My feeling as I started this letter was anger, but now, it is sorrow.