As expected, he came home and didn't tell me anything about his night. He deduced I wanted to hear about it after talking about a couple other things and asking me some questions. He said he'd tell me when we lay down. Grr! That is so stupid! It was perfectly nice in the living room. I had candles burning. It was clean. No, he wants to come into the bedroom where he falls asleep when he lays down, by his own admission. It seem to me like his built-in way of getting out of talking.

Now I am quite irritated, even though I expected this. Expecting it and being able to process it are not the same though. I need to settle down and let it go, stop letting my emotions rule all.

2:14 a.m.

That went horribly. I feel worse now than I did, but I'm not sure there was any way to avoid that. I would have felt worse whether we talked or not. I probably shouldn't have bothered for that reason alone.

I want him to tell me he loves me and cherishes me and that there's no one else in the world who he could ever want more than me. I want him to tell me I'm beautiful while stroking my hair and that I will always be beautiful to him, no matter what. I want him to be proud of me, to want to take me places, to talk about me because he loves me so much. I want him to say he's sorry when he hurts me, just because he's sorry he hurt me, even if what it was was stupid and he wasn't even wrong. I want him to touch my face. I want him to look at me. I want him to tell me it's OK. I want him to say I have nothing to worry about.

I'm afraid I have a lot to worry about.

I don't want to go to his reunion now. I'm going to feel fat and ugly, ,and I don't have him to lean on for support. That way, Hammy will have a way to get home anyway. Poor excuse, I know. I just don't want to go and feel unwanted. Or ignored.

Maybe I can sleep now. What I really want to do is wring some caring out of him.

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One Year Ago Today: