Lying here in bed and looking at my husband sleep peacefully. He is calm and relaxed. Nothing seems to bother him. Even my freak out moments seem to be water on a ducks back. He is a pillar and I am a pile of goo. His sounds so noble and mine, not so much. He never seems to inquire either so he has this air of "I don't care."
He rarely asks questions and he never reads my blogs and hardly ever responds to my texts.
He seems so aloof and unavailable most of the time, until he needs something or someone else needs something and he can look good for others. He is great for groups but one on one, forget it. Nothing will be completed. It becomes a battle. A battle I have never been very good at winning.
I am very defeated. My war cries are hoarse and dull. My armor has lost its shine. My sword dull and worn down to the nub. My trusty steed was put down to spare it the agony of domesticated life.
Yes, this is a miserable place to be. It is lonely, sad, and filled with morbid angst and tiny hidden rage.
How does one fashion their own key free themselves from bondage of despair?
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