Things move forward, whether we want them to or not. People move forward. She’s moving forward. She’s moving on.

She’s decided that she likes who she is without me. She likes who she used to be before we were together. She does not like who she is with me.

This is really, really ironic. She crushed on me for six months, while I was sure that we’d never work as a couple. In fact, she never let me forget those six months where I made her doubt herself, her instincts, her choices. The house was her idea. The dog was her idea. The renovations were her idea. Moving to California has always been her idea.

Still, people are asking me not to move forward until they have a chance to confront her. I agree, I mean, she’s my wife until she isn’t. I’ve told her this, and I’ve told everyone involved this.

For some reason, I still feel like a caged animal, being poked with sticks from all sides. From my wife, from Jody, from Lauren… when all the latter two are doing are trying to help. The former… she says she wants to be happy, and I want her to be happy, too. But what about the commitment she made to me? I am angry that it seems so easy for her to cast it aside.

From a protected post in her blog:

“We still love each other, but just because we could make it work (with effort and sacrificing parts of ourselves, and introducing the possibility of later bitterness and more severe hurt and anger) doesn’t mean we should.”

This is the part I disagree with. This is the part that hurts. This pisses me right off. But I’m still in this cage.

I’ve told my blood family. If it’s to be real, then it’s to be real. I’m not hiding any more.