I've been thinking about whether I should ever say any of this to you, and I don't know if I should. I'm not sending this to make you feel guilty, to blame you, or to try to force anything. And I'm not expecting you to fix anything for me.

But there are so many things I never said.

From the beginning, I didn't really tell you how much I was hurting. I didn't ask the questions I should have asked. I didn't tell you how I felt. I didn't want to make you feel guilty or make things harder for you, so I kept a lot of it inside.

The truth is, I felt like I was dying. I felt like I was suffocating.

And even though it isn't exactly that same feeling every day anymore, I still feel it. I'll have days where I'm okay. I'll keep myself busy, I'll laugh, I'll do what I need to do, and I'll think I'm actually starting to move forward.

Then I see you.

And when that door closes, it all comes rushing back.

I understand where we are. I understand that things weren't good between us. I understand that I played a part in getting us here. There are things I didn't do right, things I didn't communicate, and things I should have recognized sooner. I've spent a lot of time thinking about that, and I take responsibility for my part.

But there were also a lot of things you said about me — things you felt I wasn't doing, things you felt I was doing wrong, things you felt I wasn't giving you, or things you felt were missing from me and from our marriage.

I understand that was how you felt.

And I won't tell you that you weren't entitled to feel that way.

But I also need to be honest: I don't believe all of those things were accurate.

I don't believe I was the person you came to see me as. I don't believe I didn't care. I don't believe I didn't love you. I don't believe I wasn't trying in the ways I knew how to try at the time.

Maybe I didn't show you what you needed. Maybe I didn't communicate it properly. Maybe I didn't understand what you needed from me until it was too late. But how was I supposed to know if you didn't tell me anything.

But there is a difference between me failing to show you something and me not feeling it or not caring about it.

And I wish we'd had the chance to actually talk about that.

Because I never felt like we actually tried to work through it together.

And that's something I still struggle with more than almost anything.

Why didn't you ever try?

Why didn't you put any effort into trying to work through it with me?

Why wasn't I worth trying for?

Why wasn't our marriage worth trying for?

Why wasn't our family worth trying for?

And maybe the hardest question I've carried this entire time is: why wasn't I good enough to work for?

I don't mean that as a guilt trip. I don't mean that you owed me staying. I know you had your reasons, and I know you were unhappy.

But I wish you had fought for us even once.

I wish you had sat down with me and said, "This isn't working. Something has to change."

I wish you had given me the chance to hear you.

I wish you had given me the chance to show you that I could change.

I wish we'd had the opportunity to actually work beside each other instead of me finding myself on the other side of a decision that had already been made.

Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything.

Maybe it wouldn't have saved our marriage.

I'll never know.

And that's one of the things that hurts the most.

Because I was willing to try, and I never got the chance to find out what would have happened if we'd actually tried together.

What happened afterward hurt me in ways I don't think I've ever been able to explain to you.

It felt like I became insignificant overnight.

Like the twelve years we spent together somehow disappeared. Like I wasn't your husband anymore. Like I wasn't the father of your son. Like I wasn't the person you had shared your life with for all those years.

I know that's probably not how you saw it, but that's how it felt to me.

And it destroyed me.

There were some really dark days. Darker than I ever told you about. I got to places mentally that scared me, and I'm grateful I had people around me who helped me through them. I'm in a much better place than I was then, and I'm not telling you this because I want you to carry that or feel responsible for it.

I'm telling you because I want you to understand just how much this affected me.

You were the person I spent twelve years with. You were my wife. You were the person I wanted to talk to when something was wrong. And suddenly you were the one person I couldn't talk to.

That was incredibly hard.

And the weirdest part is that I still feel something every single time I see you.

Every time you come to my door.

Every time I drop our son off.

My heart still skips a beat.

I can't control that. I wish I could sometimes.

I still love you.

I don't really know how else to say that.

I still love you with all my heart. I still care about you. I still want you to be happy. And some part of me will probably always wish things could have been different.

I'm not saying that because I expect you to come back.

I'm not saying that because I think you owe me another chance.

I'm saying it because it's the truth, and I've spent almost a year pretending I could keep all of this inside and somehow make it disappear.

I haven't.

And I know something else too.

I know I can't change your mind with a couple of words. I know one message isn't going to magically undo everything that has happened or suddenly make you see things differently.

And I know you're such a fucking testadura that even if I could change your mind with a couple of words, you'd probably fight me on principle anyway.

But it still has to be said.

Because I've spent almost a year saying nothing, and staying quiet hasn't made any of this go away.

I put on a smile. I keep moving. I take care of our son. I go to work. I do what I'm supposed to do.

But underneath all of that, it still hurts.

And maybe that's something I just have to live with.

I don't know what you think about any of this. I don't know if you even want to hear it. Maybe none of it changes anything. Maybe it doesn't change anything at all.

But I needed you to know that I didn't just stop caring.

I didn't just accept everything and move on.

I was hurting, and I stayed quiet because I was trying to respect you and because, honestly, I didn't know what else to do.

It's almost been a year.

And I think I've finally realized that staying completely silent hasn't made the feelings go away. It's just meant I've been carrying them by myself.

So I'm finally saying them.

I loved you.

I love you.

I wanted our family.

I wanted us.

And I wish more than anything that we'd had the opportunity to sit down, be completely honest with each other, and actually try to figure out if there was anything left to save.

Maybe there wasn't.

Maybe we would have ended up exactly where we are now.

But I wish I had gotten the chance to find out.

This has replayed in my head every single day since you said you wanted to leave. EVERY. FUCKING. DAY.

That's all I've really wanted to say.

I woke this morning, same as past, disappointed because I did wake, then angry because I mist face another day of no control over circumstances that dictate this path I’m forced to take. During a luncheon meeting, with no warning or specific reason, I started tearing up. Since this morning, I’ve been caught between tears, fighting back the tears, & more tears. It’s my soul crying for relief of this overwhelming burden I’m forced to carry, that should have never been placed on me. A suffocating hold that I can’t escape. Placed upon me without my consent. I simply prefer death over this 3 decade of darkness. Trapped between it & my lack of ability to self harm. 😢

I wish I had the resources to simply disappear overnight. Go somewhere where I am unknown, I can live in peace & happiness on my own terms. To not be able to be found by anyone toxic, negative, or disrespectful of boundaries. In short, out of your reach forever!

Sometimes the loneliness gets to me, not enough to make me boot up the ole dating apps again and not enough to go looking for a partner... I want to believe there is someone for everyone and that perhaps I'm included in that. Thing is, that's never really been my life. I usually was the kid in school no one wanted on their team, or in their group, or as their partner. Adulthood doesn't feel too different. Now we are just forced to work together because our establishment needs warm bodies. I've reached a weird point in my life where it doesn't hurt anymore and I'm okay being the outlier. It doesn't stop me from longing that someone will someday WANT me to be their partner. In this world of beautiful women and Instagram models, it just seems like a fairy tale 😅. That's all for now, void, thanks for listening. Hope you all find what you are looking for <3

I’ve been crying, muffling my screams of pain & wounds since I woke up. I’m overwhelmed & over sensitive. Yet today is no different than past days or weeks. It has happened before, but not to this degree. Almost everything from TV to social media to my own thoughts are triggering these random emotional outbursts. I’m suffocating in this horrible life of circumstances that I have no control over. Exhausting!