11:30 I am exhausted yet cannot sleep.  My kitchen is now immaculate and I am tempted to dust and vacuum, but the fear of waking my two year old halts my angry cleaning, leading me to this post.  Why am I angry you ask?  Oh just the same old thing.  I guess once again I set my expectations too high and I am disappointed yet again with my relationship with my husband.  Maybe I am not being empathetic or understanding.  Maybe I am over reacting.  But come on, is one and a half hours of genuine conversation posed as a date night really too much to ask?  The excuse was that he was tired and had, had a stressful week making it hard to give anything else as he was already depleted.  Isn’t that the exact same thing I have been complaining of for the last year; and yet still I am trying to make an effort.  There will always be stresses and he is always tired, meaning we will never have a successful date night as he is always within his own head and once again I take the side lines, another obligation to get to.  I don’t know how to make him love me more.  I don’t know how else to approach our relationship as I have tried EVERYTHING! I am just tired of fighting for something I feel I am the only one fighting for.  It makes my stomach curl when I remember the way he used to look at me: like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  He showed me respect, attention and affection and I could hear his love beating as he thought the feelings so strongly.  He always had an excuse to hold my hand or caress my cheek and I miss so much that love that brought me to life because now that it is gone I ache all the time for the strength, empowerment and just pure bliss is gave me. 

He swears over and over that he loves me, but words mean so little to me now.  I want the flutter of butterflies to overwhelm me because I am so proud to be kissing this man.  I want the love we used to have and I don’t know if we will ever have that again.  There are days were I wake up and I do not love my husband because the actions he made swarm my head in a painful gyre that I must fight so as not to become hateful.  I do not hate him these days, but I do not love him either.  I feel like we are only a machine: fulfilling our actions that keep the device moving, but that is all.  I want so badly to be in love again and more than anything else I want to be on love with him.  I try, I feel I am always trying. The hurt is still just so deep.