Well, after feeling really good about me and H all week, and doing my best to relinquish some control, be more loving and affectionate toward him, and generally be Miss Superwife, I went to bed last night feeling EXTREMELY frustrated! Tonight will be a week since our discussion (the one where HE initiated the "I miss being intimate with you" discussion for the first time ever, the one where he ended up bawling like a baby that he didn't want to lose me, the one where he promised it would be his PRIORITY to work toward finding a solution to our problem)...and as I fell asleep next to a snoring H last night I got to feeling a little resentful that I had opened my heart up again and allowed myself to feel hope and, from my perspective, H hadn't really done anything new.
Yes, I know I was being impatient. I readily admit that. I like progress and I like it NOW, darn it. But I remembered what everyone here has said about being patient and progress takes time, so I decided to wake up this morning and continue on with my plan and hope he would eventually go along with his end of the bargain. And, oops, I even left the SSM book (which I am devouring - on page 130 already) out on his nightstand.
So H woke up and took the book and tossed it on the floor and started reading an auto magazine, and I got steamed. I know, I know. I shouldn't have, but I did. It p*ssed me off that he basically ignored this book that HE told me to order in the first place and HE promised to make a priority. So I got pissier and pissier with him all morning (so much for being patient) and it ended with me confronting him in our bedroom. I said I was very confused and felt like what he'd said last weekend hadn't meant anything, and that I had been trying all week to show him I was trying to change and I felt he wasn't meeting me half way like he'd promised...blah blah blah. We got into talking about the SSM book, and talking about our sex life, and talking about his lack of self-confidence, and the same old stuff we've talked about for YEARS.
And after 45 minutes I said (okay, I practically YELLED)..."Okay, here's what I don't understand. You SAY you like having sex with me, and you SAY we never have time or you're too tired, but here it is 10 in the morning and the baby is asleep and the kids are watching TV downstairs and you've spent the last 45 minutes telling me this or that about why you can't have sex with me. What I don't get is...why instead of talking about it for the better part of an hour can't you just tell me to rip my clothes off and jump you?!?!"
(Can you tell how frustrated I was getting? You HD'ers understand, I know you do.)
But then H did something he's never done before. While usually he would have said, "Well, all this talking means the last thing on my mind is sex," or "My back hurts" or "I'm hungry" or "We don't have time" or something else from his arsenal of excuses, he looked up at the ceiling and pondered for a moment. And then he winked at me. And he said, "Okay, rip your clothes off dammit!"
Okay, so it wasn't fireworks but it was nice and I've been rewarding him all day by being very affectionate and lovey and sweet. My only problem now is that I would love to jump him again tonight but I know that will scare him off so I'll just have to be good (for awhile).
