So I move next week. Leave the marital home for good, leave behind the car crash of a marriage that was all my doing. Leave behind stability, permanent child care, someone to moan with, someone to laugh with. But onwards. No turning back, no regrets.
This life is for living and I wasn't living it three/two years ago. I was just surviving it. And I was dragging him down with me. I was a nightmare to live with, to love, to understand, to trust, to respect. I had no respect for myself - did as I pleased with no thought of the consequences. I fucked up big time as I struggled with my internal demons - demons that had never ever been present in my life before. Demons that were probably always there but my charmed existence meant I never had to face them.
Why was I always looking for a rush?
What was it about my life that meant that even a flirt by a stranger made me feel happier than a kiss by my husband?
Why did I dream such dark depraved thoughts - of being used by 100 men, of becoming someone's fuck-toy to be used as they wanted, of being so dirty and being told I was so dirty that my face would burn with shame but my pussy would drip with lust?
Who was I turning into and why?
Now I've stopped analysing and started living. Stopped dreaming and started practicing. Woohoo and woohoo again. There is an outlet for my neediness, my desire to be loved, appreciated, adored. My desire to serve with the best of my ability and to have that returned threefold. My need to be in deep - really fucking deep. To explore the elements of my mind and his mind that have been hidden (from me) for so long. To tell someone my darkest desires and fantasies without fear of reprisal. And maybe then I can be at peace with myself and stop running so hard.
Can't fucking wait.
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