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The truth is I hate my husband.
The truth is I hate that I hate him.
The truth is I hate myself for being so naive and trusting, so desperate and weak to not look out for myself.
I know I'm just another prey for him to munch on and when the meats all gone and all that's left is the chewy fat resting on bone he'll finish and leave to die just like the rest of them only...I won't die.
I may not have the meat that was juicy as before and my fat and bones might be covered with dirt from nonmovement for so long but the difference will be I'll be the one feasting for years when eventually your prey will run out.

The truth is I want to leave my husband, or rather the person he refuses to change.
So many times he plays dumb asking what I mean when I say that very sentence, but if he really truly allowed himself to be vulnerable long enough so that God could reach in and shake him, he'd know and he'd break down with embarassment again. I'm angry because I don't understand his kind or mine. I despise the women who sit there on the floor crying while their husbands tear them down inside, making them hate themselves even more. Deep down I despise them because that is me and I hate that I'm not strong enough to walk away. The question I have is will my God forgive me if I did? Is that what it truly takes for my husband to find his faith just like history in his family?

He's not a bad person and I'm supposed to love him because he's God's creation but I do hate him. I hate what he does to me and the oblivious nature he carries for someone he "has". The truth is that at times I want to fall unto the depression again, turn my back on God and all the gifts He's provided for me to stay afloat. How easy it would be to trip just once, to slip up causing all those demons to tug and pull at me. At that very thought I invision skinned creatures from the underworld crowded beneath me with their dirty, scathed arms pulling at my own. It doesn't take must to pull me under because I'm ready and willing to give up in this vision.

I know that no amount of numbers notecards could ever make a dent and no amount of kisses or "I love you's" or even prayers could make a difference which is why I always come to the conclusion that the only time it has ever made a dent was when he was forced to be alone, dealing with himself long enough for Christ to crowd his space. But again, the notion comes in that he would soon just mimick this relationship with another, not for lack of love for me but rather lack of love for himself.

Am I doomed to this awful hurtful life? No it's not physically abusive like it used to be but aren't internal wounds much more tedious to heal? There's no bandage that will cover a broken heart except for Christ, which then comes back to the question of forgiveness. Will my God forgive me?

Life was so much easier, or at least becoming manageable and hopeful with the acceptance that this life was over. A blessing in disguise really. Am I bad wife or do I not truly love him if I carry these feelings? Everyday is a battle, a struggle for me to just want to touch his hands or to see his face, a face I often find myself wanting to scrape across with my fist. I find myself fighting revenge as to somehow find justification for every person he made to think I was in the wrong, for every person he convinced I was the bad person when everything in this relationship has changed except for him and still the problems occur.

I know now that there is no hope in showing him and there is only a hope that on that day I leave or die, he'll finally get it. Until then is this my mission Oh God? To live a life, a marriage without fullness or joy or even to know what unconditional love is, to not see my husband walk in your light? Why then did You show me what he could be if I believed? Why then did You allow him to perceive his identity as something else and unveil the truth after I made that promise.

Not ever have I lied about who I am or how I work and still I have no clue who this person is at heart. I do wonder if he would be capable in the latter years to kill without disregard or emotion. Does he?

Why did you give me this life, or allow me to choose this life for myself? Was it to show me the error of my ways because I swear if I knew what I knew now I would say 'no' when he asked if I would date him. I would choose myself instead.

Will he ever find You? Does he even want to? How am I to be married to this man whom I hate, and still love him, care for him, forgive him? How am I to be expected to live each day greatful for this life when all I want is a new one, a new husband or at least the husband I know he could be. Is it possible to believe and have hope but not get your hopes up?

I don't want to carry this rock anymore simply because I'm nothing. I am nothing because of this man and the funny part is he wouldn't even know it.