Whinging woman

http://eternalbachelor.blogspot.com/

I don't normally read advice columns but this one caught my eye in the
Times,
particularly the crushing weight of self-pity this woman spews forth after
relating how she fucked up her own life by being selfish and disloyal, and
how amusing it is that being an aging single-mother to an illegitimate brat
is adequate punishment for her selfish actions.

There's also a single sentence that makes me fucking fume. I'm sure you can
spot it.



Dear Bel,

I met my ex-husband at school when we were both 17. We married at 22 and
built a beautiful house together. From similar backgrounds, we shared the
same sense of humour, had common goals in life and good jobs. It was idyllic
in many ways. However, two years later we were having problems with our sex
life. I felt that my husband was no longer treating me as a person he wanted
to make love to. The sex was perfunctory and, if he'd had it his way, would
have been done only when the lights were off. Around this time a man at work
made a play for me. I was shocked: we were friends and he was planning his
own wedding. But I was extremely flattered and, I'm ashamed to say, we had
an eight-month affair.

I soon found, to my great sadness, that the affair only made the gulf
between my husband and me even greater. I got a new job, ended the affair
and concentrated on trying to get our marriage back on track. We went to
counselling with Relate. My husband surprised me by going to see his GP
about his premature ejaculation, a problem that he'd had for as long as I
had known him. The advice was to have sex more often. We tried but it didn't
work. It had gone from my trying to get him to make love to me, to his
trying everything to get me to make love to him. I loved him, but in the
same way I would love a brother. I hadn't gone off sex per se; just with
him, my lovely, handsome husband. Four years after our wedding day, I made
the decision that we would separate. I was under no illusions: I knew I
would be hard pushed to find another man as decent as him. I left him with
the house and everything in it because I felt so guilty. He was desperately
hurt. I had ruined all our plans, our dreams - we would never celebrate any
more birthdays or Christmases together, would never grow old together, would
never have those children we had planned, whose names we had already chosen.

Two years later I met someone else and had a little boy. That
relationship, never steady, broke down when my son was a few months old and
I've brought him up alone. He's now a happy, healthy five-year-old who
brings me great joy. My ex-husband remarried and now has two children,
younger than mine. Six months ago, I bumped into him in a pub - the first
time for six years. It was lovely to talk to him again. It turns out that he
has called his children the exact names we had picked together. They all
still live in the same house that we watched being built. I find it bizarre;
it is as though I never happened.

My main problem is, I am thinking about him constantly. I am older now
(35) and wiser, and friends tell me that the sex soon goes out of most
marriages. Happily single until I saw him, I now find myself craving the
kind of security that he offered. As I expected, since leaving him I've not
found his equal. We were always happy to see each other when we got home
from work; the men I've met since have been unpredictable. I was so immature
that I didn't realise how good our life was. Can you offer anything to
explain what is going on in this stupid head of mine? Writing this, in
tears, I cannot breathe. There is nobody else I can talk to about it without
feeling like a total fool. I just wish I understood why I feel like this.

Linda



I like the way her ex gave his two kids the same name as he and 'Linda' had
planned on giving their own kids, if she'd bothered to stick around and have
some. Heheh. I bet that must really rub salt into her self-inflicted wounds.

Note, naturally, that she was the one who decided to split up with her
husband of course, even though she was in the wrong.

Did you spot the sentence that made me fume?


I left him with the house and everything in it because I felt so guilty.


That removed any chance I could have sympathy for this bitch. She thinks
that she is somehow atoning for her sins by oh-so-generously leaving the
husband she treated like *** the house. This is how a lot of modern women
think, that they are utterly entitled to the house "and everything in it"
even after they cheat on you, and are attaining sainthood by deigning to
leave you with any possessions at all.

*** her. I've no sympathy. She's welcome to her *** brat and her
loneliness. Her ex-husband is much better off without her.

I didn't bother reading the advice given to her. It's from a woman, so it'll
just be "learn to love yourself again" sort of crap.
posted by Duncan Idaho @ 5:24 PM



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