Irrationally, I think, Will You Marry Me? Four words. I Want a Divorce. Four words. I would like time to count the letters as well, but there is not time.
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The abandonment came, and now this shabby bacchanal.
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This is much easier than when N left. Our son is unable to grasp and simultaneously turn doorknobs yet. If only this trick could be unlearned by men over thirty, many more families would celebrate Christmas together.
This is much worse than losing a cat. You do not wish the cat dead, for example, after the first two days. You still love the cat and presumably the cat still loves you, or some variation of love that may in fact be dependence and even indifference.
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This people know where their husbands are. I would like to vomit. I would like to vomit my soul out.
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People told me not to get married; I didn´t listen. No one ever listens, it seems to me now. Perhaps people should stop trying to communicate. N was not a communicator; early on, I´d insisted on communication. Now I see his point acutely. I would love to have him back to not communicate with me. I would never ask for communication again, I would simply go elsewhere for the deep fish. Also, I´m not at all sure I want to hear what he has to say in this new vista. This works out well.
The real genesis is forbidden to me, vis-? -vis N´s inability to confess even the mildest transgressions.
Conversely, I though humiliation would be everything, but it´s such a nothing.
Together we agree that there are few tableaus more pathetic than a woman poring over a plethora of self-help books, while in a small café across town her husband is sharing a bottle of Pouilly-Fuissé and fettucini Alfredo with a beautiful woman, fondling her fishnet knee and making careful plans to escape his life.
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I am going insane. Yes. That is what´s happening. Good. Insane.
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I was steeped in denial, but my body knew.
He left a bit too easily and with obvious relief. His feet were swift and sure on the muddy path.
A pink razor is like a mouse, where ever it is the pussy will follow.
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The only sheets I'll ever long for are my own.
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Touch. It is touch that is the deadliest enemy of chastity, loyalty, monogamy, gentility with its codes and conventions and restraints. By touch we are betrayed and betray others.. An accidental brushing of shoulders or touching of hands.. Hands laid on shoulders in a gesture of comfort that lies like a thief, that takes, not gives, that wants, not offers, that awakes, not pacifies. When one flesh is waiting, there is electricity in the merest contact.
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It was your choice to sleep with her Gavin! It didn't just happen!
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When would he realize that it wasn't his infidelity I couldn't bear, but his cowardice?
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Infidelity is an opium of unfaithfulness.
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.. There was only one thing that interested her and that was getting into bed with men whenever she'd the chance. And I warned her straight. 'You'll be sorry one day, my girl, and wish you'd got me back'.
The punishment of vertical rending was given to those who had destroyed marriages to satisfy their own lust.
It was hard for them to accuse their wives of infidelity when their rival was an invisible man.
Affairs are like a seventh day. They are a break from all duties and obligations and responsibilities. I'm not saying this is right and I'm not saying it lightly. This is just how they are. You can't be responsible when you're with your lover. And since you already know you're way out of line, you go the extra distance. You throw yourself in headfirst. You become the very personification of irresponsible. You are way alive. Every detail sings. It would be a great way to live if it weren't so ruinous.
I hope it's that she simply doesn't figure large enough in his life to be worth mentioning, Vita thought. And then she thought, if that was the case. It was therefore rather pathetic that Suzie loomed larger for her than for Tim, that Suzie was in some ways a more real presence in her life than in his. What she thought it boiled down to was that she really didn't want the woman he left her for to be the true, profound love of his life.I auditioned for that role. I put so much effort into it, I loved it. I'm not ready to let it go to someone else. But you keep forgetting he didn't leave you, Vita - you left him. And then she thought, is this a slewed version of Aesop's dog in the manger? I don't want him - but I don't want him wanting anyone else?And then she thought, For God's sake, shut up! This is doing me no good at all. All this thinking and wondering that I do isn't going to change him or the past. What a waste of quarter of an hour - sifting through all that emotional JUNK. She knew there was nothing of value in it- she'd been through it with a fine toothcomb over and again.
So the great affair is over but whoever would have guessedit would leave us all so vacant and so deeply unimpressedIt's like our visit to the moon or to that other starI guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.
I sensed he may have occasionally strayed in some of his past relationships. It was something I felt but ignored, a rent in the fabric of an otherwise splendid garment I thought I could mend. I thought I could live with it I thought, yes and I admit it, that I would be different. That at the very least, middle age and children would slow him down; however, they seemed to accelerate his pace.
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