The Player talked me into going to therapy for a check-in with him after over a month of my absence.
It was a mistake.
Not at first of course. The Player is trying to get our reconciliation off of my self imposed hiatus and he had some good arguments. One was that things I wanted to discuss were building up and if we were at least in therapy and talking weekly things didn’t fester. Two was that he’d reasoned he was doing nearly all of what I asked now – excluding the fucking impact letter response – and he wanted to see if we could do more than nothing.
The Player, while bright, couldn’t understand what the rules to my detachment were. I guess the 1) no therapy and 2) no discussions about our relationship were not clear. I guess also I said 1) let’s still carry on our other life matters the same and 2) lets still have sex.
The strangest thing happened. It’s been almost three weeks and no sex. We usually have a lot of sex. Multiple times per week. I brought that up last week and he said he was sick (he was) I told him I was talking about the time before he was sick and, get this, The (sex addict) Player says he thinks he couldn’t have sex without us being “emotionally connected.” He said he thought that sometimes I was upset and he didn’t feel close to me at night. He also said some people in SLAA and SAA meetings he attends think it’s strange we have sex still. That void of reconciliation, “it’s just fucking.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed in his stupid face. Right after I wanted to punch his stupid face. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right? He couldn’t get past the fact that we don’t go to therapy together even though it’s still my desire to reconcile and we are still doing all other married things together.
I found it extremely ironic that he could “compartmentalize” when it was against me and the marriage to fuck other women but he can’t compartmentalize to fuck me in support of staying together and connected physically for the marriage.
That has to be one of the most fucked up paragraphs I have ever written in my now sorry ass life.
Well today after the appointment with the CSAT we discussed a recommendation from his therapist. He wanted us to have a weekly, quick check ins with each other to dicuss the basics of our recovery. To let each other know what we’re doing in recovery. A chance to report each of our progress to each other. What he’s working on and same for me. After we discussed the ground rules and what we could expect from the check ins, I asked him when we would be starting check ins and he joked them off. While leaving to go to work I said, “So, we start this week?” To which he made an exasperated groan and sigh.
I left. He sent me a text to say he was sorry about the moan and I said okay.
Later in the day when I saw him I told him I get it, it’s tiring having to talk about his infidelities and recovery but I get it. He’s not ready and I should have known better. “I need to manage my expectations better about what you are able to give me. I knew this, it’s what I’ve been saying all along about my needs not being met. I can’t believe I thought about changing the detachment arrangement.”
Then I left and cried in my car. Alone. He doesn’t get it and I’m not settling. Those two things are in direct conflict with each other. I’m such an idiot to let hope back in against my better judgement.
I’m tired of crying alone about it, too.