I’m just going to say, before I start properly, that this is going to be a one-sided view of events. There are two sides to every story, as they say, and I’m sure this one is no exception. This is my side:
I no longer know if I love my wife. I’ve been thinking about our relationship a lot over the past few weeks and if there remains any love then it has been buried beneath the scars of hurt and fear. Yes, fear: too often over the past months I have been afraid of my wife and her angry outbursts.
We have had a difficult conversation today about this: I had to resort to typing at one stage because I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. That helped: one of our long-standing problems has been that she doesn’t react well when I become non-verbal.
Some issues were explained. She told me I was secretive, which is true. I responded that I found it difficult to trust her and speak openly after some times when she had teased me about things I revealed. I have written before about how I cannot tell whether teasing is supposed to be malicious or not; I always find it hurtful.
The sad truth is that I have drifted from her as a result of feeling insecure and uncomfortable. Too many incidents where I’ve found the door locked against me, where I have been on the receiving end of angry tirades. I’m not saying that I didn’t cause any of this, intentionally or not. But the fact remains that while I still care about her I can no longer find deeper feelings within myself.
Each time one of these incidents happened it brought me further down, until I reached a crisis point this week. There is a distance now that I need, a space in which I can continue to recover. It might sound selfish of me but that is my priority right now.
We are still on friendly terms at least. We will continue to live together and see if we can build anything from that base. So it’s still “Married, With Aspergers” for the time being.