Where do I go from here? I feel like my life is over. I am in a perpetual state of panic. He keeps saying he's not gone. He repeatedly tells me that he loves me and everything is fine. But for the third day in a row, he hasn't kissed me goodbye when he leaves. Monday he told me I didn't wake up. Same with yesterday. But today I KNOW he didn't try because I woke up when he got up and just dozed off and on, but wasn't nearly asleep so hard that I couldn't wake up.
I moved across the country to be with him. Stayed in two homeless shelters. I have done nothing but try to be what he wants and needs. I don't think it will ever be enough. And I kind of hate him for it.
He doesn't understand that what he's done this time has completely changed me. I will never be the same. I may never completely heal, because when he says he's finished and turns around and does the same thing, it's because he's sorry he got caught, not because it will never happen again.
He insists that this time he understands that he will never have me if he does it again, but I think he doesn't want me. He "teases" me all the time that I misrepresented myself. That I wasn't really who I said I was. I don't understand HOW he sees me. SO much stuff happened during that first year I was here, and yet, I STAYED. He kissed someone else while we were engaged, but I still stayed. He left for six months for a project, only home on weekends to "put out fires" and get ready to leave again. *I* was the one taking care of the kids and keeping everyone afloat.
That left me broken. Severely. Then we went to a counselor who was an idiot, and she took his side on some stuff that my intuition said, "UH UH! NO WAY!" And, four years later, I found out that *I* was right. And we are dangerously close to the year mark of that discovery. So what do I do now? I have stayed and stayed while he has strayed. And I'm still here. And he's physically her a lot of the time, but I have NO emotional connection with him. I feel like he's closed himself off from me and will never let me in.
I guess what I want to know is WHY he has done it? HE was wrong. HE needs to help fix. And instead, I'M the one trying to pick up the pieces, and I just can't do it anymore. I am just fried. I am broken. I am fragile. I am lost. I need to be the one getting fixed. Why the HELL am I trying to fix him and his crap?
I feel this way as a result of what he has done, and it's going to take as long as it takes for me to be okay. And if it was the first time, it wouldn't be as hard, but it's NOT. They say third time's a charm, and I can't decide if that means if this time it's really done or not...