Broken.

I am sick and tired of feeling like a sperm receptacle.

I am sad that it has come to this.

I want someone - anyone - to pretend to love me for just one night. It doesn't have to be real. I just want someone to make love to me all night, like they love me.

I am sick of giving giving giving sexually and not having my needs met even when they are made clear. It's not like I'm expecting a bunch of mind-reading. I am sick of two minutes and then it's over, and then the "I'm sorrys" start, but no move to help me finish.

I am sick of paying very close attention to his sexual needs and wants and preferences, and sacrificing my own needs, and then getting nothing in return.

BUT.

There is nothing I can do about it. Absolutely nothing at all.

Because if I start making myself a priority in bed, then he's going to cheat again. (He says he won't, but he will. I KNOW he will.)

But not being a priority? That's killing me. Giving of myself and then being left sexually frustrated is not working out very well. A person can only go so long without sexual release before they start to feel a little cranky. And sad.

And I'm not talking about just plain old release. I can do that myself.

I desperately need to feel loved and cherished. If I felt like I was a priority, if I felt like he was expressing love when he was with me, the release part wouldn't matter so much.

But if I can't have one, I at least want the other, dammit!

It's not fair, it's not right, and I am starting to understand why women cheat. I can completely relate to women who love their partners dearly but spend time with other men. The fact that I want another man does not in any way diminish my love for him. It's purely selfish and I'm not going to act on it, but it doesn't stop me from fantasizing.

In my fantasy, this man is unbelievably gorgeous. He has incredible eyes, and he's built, but not overly so. And he's tattooed, and pretty much, he's Adam Levine. But I digress. ;-)

And he loves me with all his heart. Or at least pretends to. He takes his time. He's nice and slow and easy. He doesn't rush or push or ask me to do things that make me uncomfortable. He brushes my arms, my belly, my thighs with his fingertips. He kisses me gently. He touches me like he loves me.

When finally we come together as a man and woman, he doesn't go as fast as he can. He doesn't stop every ten seconds to collect himself so he won't climax. He keeps up a rhythm.

Why doesn't this man exist in my life?? Why can't I have him?? Why can't my husband be that man??

Why did I choose a cheater?

I am having one of those days where I hope he rots in hell, where I wish he would just move away, take the kids every other weekend, and let me have my life. I wish he would just go, so I can find the man that will complete me, instead of being stuck with the one who hurt me beyond repair.