I don’t know how I expected last week to go but this was…actually
what I was hoping. Not what I was thinking would happen but what I was hoping
for. He’s back.
As of last night, James has moved most of his things back
home. He still has a locker at work but he’s slept the last three nights in our
bed and that makes me feel…very happy. To be honest, I’m ecstatic but worried.
I’ve spent 21 years of my life learning to be independent
and overly cautious in my relationships. And I got really good at it. 8 years
ago I met James and a year later we were married. I started dating him because
it was convenient. Here was someone who didn’t have to be told my secret, who
loved me and protected me. Yes, by the time he proposed I loved and protected
him but it didn’t start out that way. It was easy to use him when it came to my
other life: to get me information, to cover my tracks. It didn’t hurt me at
all.
But some time in the last 7 years of marriage, our
relationship changed. I reread my post from last week and I realized how
codependent I’ve become. It shouldn’t be like this. In the old days I would
have seen it as a sign of weakness – and in some ways it is – but I just don’t
care.
I’ve spoken about my contention with the notion that serial
killers need to be lone wolves. I think it makes them better killers to have
families and secrets. It makes them careful.
At least it’s supposed to.
I don’t know what I expected out of this update. I love my
husband and I’m so glad that he’s back home and that he’s agreed to work
through our problems together instead of apart. Apparently my pride is getting
in the way of realizing how lucky I am. I have a husband, and a son, and I
haven’t been arrested for serial murder in 22 years.
What more could a girl ask for?
Although…
You know what would be a great way to get back to the way we
were?
Letting James pick out the next victim. My loyal readers
know how much foreplay that is for us. Hopefully it'll be an opportunity for us to work through things. If not, someone will die and then we'll have sex on kitchen floor.
Who needs couple’s therapy when you can just hang out in a
dark, deserted alley waiting for some poor unfortunate soul to stumble in to
your trap?
I know what I’m doing this weekend.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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