Not wanting to write

I've started a number of posts.

I've never finished them.

I get to a certain point and stop. I can't go on with my writing. I can't type the words. I can't see the letters forming the words that form the sentences that say the things I can't let myself think, write, say.

I'm unhappy. He's unhappy. Splitting isn't an option, but I'm miserable.

I love him, but can't stand him at the same time.

I'm really not sure he likes me, but I know he loves his daughters.

There's no passion - the sex sucks, when there is any.

We sleep about as far away from each other as we can get while in the same bed.

The girls go to bed and the TV goes on and the computers come out and the house goes silent.

Who is he? What does he want? Other than for me to cook for him, clean up after him, keep his children happy and healthy so he can play with them when he wants to, I mean.

What do I want? Wow, what a concept. I want something? Hmmm! How about to feel like more than a hired hand? At least he tips a waitress. Want? A "thank you" some times? A "wow, the _____ looks great!" A "you work hard for this family" or even a smile. Something warm, something affectionate.

How do we move beyond this? Does he even notice? Did he even notice I went upstairs and said good night? Not sure - no response.

I think about what I want for my daughters. I think about what I want for them to value, to learn, to see, to feel. To deserve. So why do I deserve less? I would never tolerate my daughters being treated this way, but I'm teaching them it's okay to be treated like this. I'm teaching them about the expectations of a woman and a man in a relationship. This is not what I want for them to learn.

Am I making this out to be more than it is? He helps. He did the dishes tonight. He folded some towels. He shampooed the carpets from Jana's puking yesterday. He does laundry sometimes. He vacuumed. He picked up dinner yesterday.

Is it 50/50? NO! Is it 75/25? Hardly. It's 85/15, maybe. Maybe I wouldn't mind it if I stayed home all the time; maybe I would, I don't know. I do know that I work enough to make 2/3 of his salary, yet I'm responsible for all of the household duties too. I know that we're going to run out of money this summer and he keeps saying - no big deal. But it is a big deal. I'm the one with the ability to work more, so the responsibility to make up the difference falls on me. So, I go find a slightly above minimum wage job for the summer teaching swim lessons or teaching kiddie camp or tutoring.

I feel like I'm working so hard, but can never do anything well. I had a day to remember today. Is that why I'm feeling like I'm at my breaking point? Or am I really there? What happens next, here at my breaking point? Do I break? I won't leave. I won't ask him to leave. I'll just cry. I'll just be unhappy. I'll just get up and take care of the girls all day, clean, cook, clean some more, and go to sleep on the edge of the bed, on my side of the bed.

Am I pathetic or what?