02-04-2015, 12:00 AM
So a few years ago there was a month that my wife searingly hated me with no abatement following all out war. When I finally turned her rejection of me, there were a few weeks of complete reversal in Susan's demeanor, and she finally had sex with me a couple times, though hardly enough for the timeframe if you count MONTHS of Susan having frozen me out.
I planned this short vacation for a fabulous Marriott resort on Marco Island. {EXPENSIVE} So, a few weeks before, I got on my knees and meakly asked if she might have sex with me once sometime in the next weeks before leaving. To let you understand my station at this point, Susan exploded on me, and even used a dagger to say, "if I was expecting her to have sex with me on the Marco Island vacation she would not go."
The WHOLE point of this {EXPENSIVE} luxuriously ROMANTIC resort was some intimacy.
When she said that, I flipped out---the pain was unbearable. I went and got a revolver, (adrenalin gushed and I was really scared with it in my hand that I might commit suicide), I went out in front of Susan and put it to my head. (I tought better of it immediately, but too late) I NOW was in much worse relational position. I told her how sorry I was and that the gun wasn't loaded (which was a lie).
I was sooo fucked. I could not do any detachment because it meant accepting I was not having sex with my wife on Marco Island (or anywhere or anytime). My mind refused to accept THAT reality.
I had to go with accepting 'I could not accept' and to know I was going to suffer excruciatingly.
I planned this short vacation for a fabulous Marriott resort on Marco Island. {EXPENSIVE} So, a few weeks before, I got on my knees and meakly asked if she might have sex with me once sometime in the next weeks before leaving. To let you understand my station at this point, Susan exploded on me, and even used a dagger to say, "if I was expecting her to have sex with me on the Marco Island vacation she would not go."
The WHOLE point of this {EXPENSIVE} luxuriously ROMANTIC resort was some intimacy.
When she said that, I flipped out---the pain was unbearable. I went and got a revolver, (adrenalin gushed and I was really scared with it in my hand that I might commit suicide), I went out in front of Susan and put it to my head. (I tought better of it immediately, but too late) I NOW was in much worse relational position. I told her how sorry I was and that the gun wasn't loaded (which was a lie).
I was sooo fucked. I could not do any detachment because it meant accepting I was not having sex with my wife on Marco Island (or anywhere or anytime). My mind refused to accept THAT reality.
I had to go with accepting 'I could not accept' and to know I was going to suffer excruciatingly.