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Two years ago today, we were driving away from California. I have not been back since, and I could care less.. One year ago today, you were on your way back.. again. My soul had reached a point of unrest that caused me to shut down and go numb.

You wrote me an email before heading out the door that morning. You said words that brought tears to my eyes - all the things I longed to hear. It was bittersweet. You knew you were hurting me by taking the trip, but I suppose you felt you'd be hurting your friend more if you didn't. I don't know what possessed you to sit down and type out that email.. and I don't know if you felt it in your heart or meant a single thing you said. I don't know if I ever will know.. or if you even remember.

It took less than three days for you to turn it all into a lie.

I don't know how to feel today.. aside from happy that you are not in California. You are here with me, celebrating our second son, playing in the snow, working to provide for your family. I don't know that I would have believed it if someone had said to me last spring that this is where we would be today.

I haven't even opened my email today. I don't know if I will. Anyone who might send something to that address can surely wait until tomorrow.

There's a heavy sadness upon my heart as I struggle to forget. To distract myself from the thoughts of 'this time last year'.. I know I will be spending a lot of time distracting myself over the next few months.. Please, be patient with me.

I know it irritates you when I shirk responsibilities.. when I lack patience with the children.. when I can't follow through on the few things you depend on me for. I wish I could explain why. I wish I could explain the immobilizing feelings that cause my soul to become heavier than lead. I have moments when sadness will fill every inch of my body to the point of scarcely being able to lift a finger. The world around me disappears and fear and sorrow blind and overtake me like an all consuming darkness. I wish I could push it away, I wish I could fight my way out.. I wish I could turn on a light.

I wish I could shake the feeling that you're only here because you've settled. You realized that what you want and what you need are different things and that meeting the need was wiser than fulfilling desires. I can't help but wonder.. If we were to erase our past, take away all the responsibilities, all we've invested in each other.. and if you were to put me in a line up.. would you choose me? or would you just overlook me. Would you even be interested?

When my affection and advances are met with indifference I have to fight to remember that you are involuntarily affected by your moods and tell myself over and over that you are not simply tolerating me.. you are just... down.

There was a time, it seems ages ago, that you couldn't get enough of me. You couldn't keep your hands off me. I knew you were mine, I knew I had you and you couldn't get away.. But it faded.. and faded and faded until it disappeared. It made a brief reappearance last spring when you were on anti-depressants.. It almost made me wish we could keep you on them.. but I knew it wasn't *real*. And I could see that the mania was so intense it was making you feel like you might explode at any moment - one can only tolerate something that intense for so long.

I look forward to the days ahead.. as all this gets farther and farther behind us.. I look forward to not thinking about Her every day. I look forward to not wondering if you're thinking of Her when you're with me.. to not wondering if you dream about Her.. to not wishing I was Her. I look forward to forgetting the things you said to Her about me.. and not longing to live up to those failed expectations, not screaming in my head about the injustice of it all.. not longing to tell Her it was all a lie.. and then stopping to wonder.. 'But was it??...'

Do I really want to know?

I finally figured it out yesterday. I figured out why my own fertility is such an *issue* for me. Part of me is happy that I fessed up to you what I was scheming.. but part of me wishes I had had the courage to go through with it.

I sat there in church, Sunday before last, when the idea came to me. 'I'll just go and get my tubes tied. We don't need to talk about it.. I already know he does NOT want any more children.. He's made that perfectly clear. So, why not just go do it? Just get a sitter, and go.' Of course, then there were hang ups, I felt compelled to check and see if it was covered by our insurance, and see how much it would cost us.. (stupid PPO).. and ended up telling you.

And you wanted to talk about it. But I don't want to talk about it.

I keep reading these stories people share about the birth of their children.. many of them including the part where they decided to conceive a child.. tried.. perhaps failed and tried again.. and succeeded. It just digs that knife deeper in my heart.

As we drove in the car yesterday and I thought about our friends. Our friends who are working so hard to have another baby.. Who made the decision to have a vasectomy years ago.. attempted later to reverse it but failed.. tried to adopt but were denied.. and now are trying another reversal. And praying.

I spent my childhood looking forward to motherhood. It was one of my biggest goals in life. As a teenager who found herself sexually active, I often fantasized about an accidental pregnancy. But I was relieved to make it through my teens without that 'mistake' under my belt as well.

What hits me the hardest is hearing fathers recount tales of wanting a child, of rejoicing in their wife's pregnancy, and being so overjoyed by the arrival of that infant.. not that you haven't reacted with joy upon meeting all of your children.. but they were never sought after.

Five children. All accidents. I am a mother by accident.

I comforted myself over the years with the fact that I was privileged as your wife to be the mother of your children. I loved carrying your babies and looked upon them in some small way as a gift to you.. even if you didn't always seem to see them that way. But if I could have once heard in all those years, the words 'I want to have a baby' come out of YOUR mouth.. I think I would some how feel more complete. Perhaps I am wrong.

One of the most painful things for me to hear come out of your mouth after your affair.. let alone that it was just sick and twisted.. it cut me to the very core as your wife and the mother of your children.. was when you said you wished she was pregnant. I wanted so badly to be her at that moment. 9 years as your wife, and I'd never heard you say that to me (though, I had heard you say.. at least 5 times.. 'I hope you're not.').. despite the fact that I'd given you 5 children.

I suppose all this is what keeps me ever 'open to more'.. holding out hope that maybe one day we too could join the league of proud parents who say 'and then we decided we wanted a baby..' I would have loved to have been able to be excited, over joyed at the site of a positive pregnancy test.. and have you excited with me.

But I suppose that some things just aren't meant to be..

So, as we once again toss around the idea of ending our days of fertility, bear with me as it is such a sore subject for me. To once and for all lay to rest the possibility, the opportunity, for us to truly welcome a child into our lives will be a very bittersweet moment for me.

A few weeks ago (yes, weeks) I was lying in bed.. I don't remember if I was waking or trying to go to sleep.. and you reared your ugly head.

I was 'thinking about it' again.. not sure why. I think perhaps it was in that 15 or 20 minutes or so that it takes me to fall asleep after having sex. I think I shook that night. I was trying to figure out why. I wish there was some connection - some act, or thought, or feeling that was constant to help me figure out what triggers the uncontrollable tremors that are so intrusive.

I was racking my brain as I lay there, tucked safely in his arms.

Trying to figure out if he'd done something that was done to me inappropriately by someone else.. something that is linked to memories..

Then it happened.

It was just a quick flash. Like they show in Fight Club.. when Tyler is talking about splicing films and adding in a little blip of porn to a lovely family friendly film. Just enough to make you say 'Did I just see what I...?'

I don't know what it was. I don't know where it was. But I felt it with every bit of me and just as quickly as it had flashed in my mind, I dismissed it. 'Lalalalalalalalalala!!' inside my head to prevent anything else. 'Lalalalalalalalalala!' forget 'happy thoughts', any thoughts at all right now just won't be enough to conceal you. You're too big, you're too ugly, and there you are.. all up in my face again.

They say we deny as a means of survival. If we didn't, we'd probably all be dead. Because we just would not be able to handle the reality of it all. Because mentally? the real, fully integrated self, is still stuck back at that point. That point when things went wrong. So terribly wrong. From that point on we exist in a fog, in a bubble, behind a big glass wall that cuts us off from everyone else.

It's kind of nice in there.

It feels good. It feels safe. I stepped out into the real world, briefly, a few months back.. and it hurt like hell. Like a newborn. They have such a rude awakening when they join our world. Pushed out of that soft, warm, watery home.. into a big, bright, loud world with people touching them, poking them, prodding them. Even being cradled in their mother's arms borders on too much for them. And they cry in protest for weeks, only comforted by being wrapped snugly in a blanket that buffers the outside world's heavy hand. I don't want to go outside again.

That light blinded me for a while.. and I made some incredibly stupid decisions. Back here in the darkness, everything is so much clearer.. so much easier. So much simpler. I can deal with it. Denial, Minimalization, Depersonalization.. these are my best friends. Without them, I don't know how to get through the day. They help me with all of my biggest demons, not just you.. but the others too. Why do you think it's so easy for me to forgive? And I know, from experience, that it won't be *that* long until the memories fade and the words cease to haunt me.. (I sure would like to speed it up though!)

Lately, I feel more than a little crazy. Sure, running away often sounds tempting.. though deep down, it's NOT what I want. It's a good thing I can't. I don't think I would survive very long with myself. Sometimes I wonder how long it will be.. how long can I fight temptation? The temptation to run, the temptation to hide, the temptation to hurt myself.. But I've managed to fight it this long, why would I suddenly give in now? I wouldn't. Right? Right.