I wanted to add a small post as an addendum of sorts to my last post:
I want to state here for the record that I love my husband. I do and always will. He is one of the best men I've ever met. He's a good man and he's got his own pain and confusion, just like I have. He tried to deal with what has happened to us in the best way he knew how, even if he didn't make the right choices all the time any more than I did. We are, after all, only two people trying our hardest to muddle through.
I value so many things about him and mourn the fact that I can no longer give him all the things he wants, needs and deserves in this life. I was selfish for many years about this, knowing that I had something good and wishing to keep it around while forcing him to be satisfied with less.
I cannot do that to him or to myself any longer or deny who I am now because of what this thing that has happened to me has shaped me into. It is no longer fair of me to want him for all those things he can provide for me and be for me without being able to give him what he needs to feel fulfilled. And though he loves me, he doesn't understand me either. I've become someone different and sometimes the person you loved isn't the person standing in front of you years later.
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