Happy Birthday to Me!

[SolidMechanic]

Today (yesterday, actually, since it is after midnight) I am 44 years old. I did not get the one present that I wanted the most, so instead I am writing this. (BTW, I previously posted a couple of times as TeeBone, but someone else was using a similar moniker, so I changed my name.)

I have been married to my wife 19 years, have been with her since I was 18. We have two lovely daughters 6 and 12 years old. We have very busy lives right now: we are in the process of building a new house and selling our old one. My mother-in-law, who lives with us, was hospitalized this week with a severely broken leg, and, because of her advanced age and poor physical condition, she will probably be wheelchair-bound for the rest of her life. But here I am, selfish man that I am, complaining about my love life.

I haven't had sex since we conceived our 6 year old. Prior to that we didn't have any sex except to conceive our 12 year old. Basically, sex started to dry up in the early '80s before we even got married. At some point I stopped asking because I was sick of getting shot down. Both my wife and I are non-confrontational. We both tend to let things stew inside of us. She probably doesn't want to make love with me because of something I did (or didn't do) a long time ago but she doesn't want to bring up with me because she doesn't want to make me mad or get me defensive. So instead of saying anything, I walk around angry. I get snippy about stupid stuff I shouldn't care about and became an unpleasant person to be around.

What changed? I lost 60lb last year. I used to see myself in a mirror and think "I wouldn't f**k that either." But losing weight has given enough of a boost to my self image to feel that I should be treated better than that.

When I broached the subject with my wife a couple of months ago, after years of silence, she just sort of chuckled sadly and said "Oh, Tony,". She really didn't have much else to say about it, except why was I bringing it up now. Certainly nothing changed.

A month ago, after my wife had gone to sleep, I wrote a very heartfelt letter asking if, for my birthday, we could make love. I really bared my soul in that letter, told her how sad and lonely I had become. I wrote it, taped it to the bedroom TV where she would see it first thing when she got up, and then I went to bed. When I got up the next morning, she was already up and about but didn't say anything about it. I couple of minutes later I found the letter in the trash. I confronted her about it and she said that she just couldn't get close to me. Since then, she has told me that she needs to figure out how she can forgive me. Since we pretty much stopped having sex before we got married in 1985, it's some pretty old hatchets that need to be buried!

Since that conversation, I have taken some positive but unilateral steps. I bought SSM, which is somewhat simplistic in its prescriptions, but had two great benefits: 1) I learned that my wife and I are not particularly abnormal, and 2) I discovered this forum. Then I got "Passionate Marriage" by D. Schnarch (PM for all of you who are new to this forum), which is, in my opinion, a much more difficult but a more rewarding read. I'm about half way through that. My wife doesn't want to read either one of these, because she doesn't want her Mom or the kids to see her reading about these topics. I got her a book called "Forgive and Forget" and she's read about a chapter of that. I scheduled an appointment with a marriage councilor for tomorrow, but with my wife's Mom in the hospital, we can't find anyone to watch the kids. Yet again, our marriage is the lowest priority. I told her that I was going to see the councilor by myself. She said that I would probably feel better after I spent an hour cutting her down. I told her that I need to talk to someone so I can deal with my own feelings.

Finally, I bought aroma therapy candles for our bedroom, created a mix of some of our old favorite romantic tunes, and sat up in bed. I let her know that I wanted to make love with her, but she didn't have to if she didn't want to. She took off her glasses and pulled the covers up around her shoulders as she always does. I kissed her good night, blew out the candle and left.

I wish I didn't love her. I wish I didn't want her. The fact that she doesn't want me makes me sick. I used to think she was the love of my life. How can I get over someone who sleeps in the same bed?

Tony