If you have looked in the mirror and listened to the complaints she has in her M of you, the ones that sting, the ones you can honestly admit to...
This.
She is done. She can't admit it, but it's obvious she is done.
She has no complaints about how I am now. Before the bomb she thought I was unaffectionate, and that I neglected her. That I wasn't involved enough with our daughters. That I wasn't as confident as I should be.
She says those are things I've changed since the Bomb.
But she's still done. Just wants her house with a white picket fence, two kids in the yard, her comfy little job that doesn't demand anything of her. In fact, that's exactly what she wants out of life, comfort with no demands or challenges.
You'll read this, and say "He's angry." "He's not detached" or "He's 'reattaching.'"
Yeah, I'm at an angry point. I'm at a point where I'm having to make huge sacrifices, where my life is going to be turned upside down, where my daughters are going to be turned upside down. Where...
That doesn't mean I'm running away, or that I'm flawed, or weak or a doormat or anything that's been said on these boards. They're just my feelings. I'm just having them, trying to see where they're coming from, why I feel this way. It's why we're human...
If I could coldly walk away from my family, the first thing I'd do is check myself into a psych ward. This SHOULDN'T be easy.
But it's the right thing for me to do; either I leave or she leaves. I made a mistake in deciding it had to be me to leave. I'm trying to find ways around that, ways that work for ME and my daughters. I might not be able to fix that mistake, and if not, I'll still go. But one of us has to leave, that's clear as the Nebraska sky right now.
