I’m face to face with the same brick wall and there’s no more avoiding it. I have to choose.

It’s not really a choice, in as much as there is no doubt about which path I will walk down. Making the choice is not what torments me. It’s finding a way to live with it.

But we’ve had this fight a million times. We’ve fought, we’ve discussed, we’ve cried, we’ve compromised. We’ve forgiven and let go… and still we end up at the starting place over and over again.

There is no equality in this marriage. We don’t share the burdens or the responsibilities. We don’t have the same feeling of obligation. The words house and home and family don’t mean the same thing to us.

And I don’t care whose “fault” it is or whether it’s “on purpose” or not – it’s fucking hard to live with. I’ve been living with it for 8 years. 8 goddamned years. Regardless of job or position or location. The variables all change but the end result is always the same:

I am the reliable one. I’m the one who makes it all work – the house, the bills, the kids. All of it. The buck starts and stops here.

And he.. well, he can be a great help at times.

I’m tired of hearing that it’s not his fault. I’m tired of having to accept work as an excuse. I work too! Full fucking time, thank you very much. I bring in half of the income into this house – and yet I am still expected to carry the rest of the load.

But then, this is old news. Old anger. Old frustration. Old resentment that has been scabbed over and picked open again and again.

It is not going to change. He is not going to change.

I’m not crazy. Or blind. I can see that I only have a few options from here. I can ride the merry-go-round over and over again and suck the life out of both of us – or I can jump off. And jumping off means learning to live with it… or not.

And living without him is not an option. For any of us.

The fact is, I do not know a better man than him. His soul is good. His heart is good. His laughter is the same as mine. He looks at the world with arms wide open and a smile across his face and he loves damn near everything that comes his way.

I will never in a million years know another man like him. I will never in my lifetime love another person the way I love him.

Walking away is not an option.

I know this. I know this. I know that his goodness is bigger than the long nights alone without a phone call. I know that my love for him is deeper than my frustration and weariness. I know.

And I know we cannot stay on the merry-go-round.

I have to jump off. I have to let go. I have to find a way to live with it, just like it is.

And I’m stuck. Face to face with another wall that I cannot move. I haven’t got a clue how to walk this road without a bulging bag of bitterness and resentment.

How do I get past the fact that it’s not fucking fair?!?! It’s not fair that I have to give up because he refused to work with me. It’s not fair that my resignation means doing it all by my fucking self all the time. It’s not fair that I will never, ever know what it is to have a partner.

It’s not fair. Life’s not fair.

I know.

I need to do the right thing. For me and for us. I have to be the one to break the cycle. I have to see beyond the inequality and embrace what we have. I know that’s what I need to do.

But I don’t know if I have what it takes – whatever it is – to do that. And that scares the hell out of me.

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