Time to face the facts. I’ve been really irritated. I haven’t wanted to cuddle or to be close to Wonderboy. He’s been defensive, angry about everything and anything, not directly at me as is his passive aggressive way, but still I’ve been the one facing his sullen face.
In the morning he suddenly jumped out of bed, ran to the computer, slammed doors as he went and then left in a huff to go to the pharmacy. He hadn’t slept very well, because of the hey fever. My morning didn’t start all that well, when I had the huff and puff around me and suddenly gone. He could’ve, you know, explained what he was going to do, but instead he decided to just create this very hostile atmosphere, and at the time I had no idea why.
I know he had to work especially late this week. I know he hasn’t been sleeping too well. I know his cock has been… wounded. I’ve been very understanding. I haven’t made comments, tried to seduce him anyway and I’ve been trying to make things easier for him. I made us dinner, cleaned up a bit, gave him my allergy medicine (prescription, I might add!) and have encouraged him to take a nap, play video games, buy chocolate – whatever makes him happy. I’ve been trying to cope on my own, alone, without any intimacy, understanding or discussion.
Why is he directing his anger and frustration to me?
My car just broke down. Before that he kinda drove too close to a wall and scratched my car. When I told him that, he just denied it and became angry because of the accusation. I didn’t even express any discontent or anger, because of it – and that would’ve been very understandable! I feel like I have to be so fucking understanding that there’s no room for any discontent on my part.
This has gone far enough.
I don’t even want to touch him. When he came behind me to hug me, I just waited when will it be over. That’s what you get from being unhappy, complaining and passive aggressive all the fucking time. Sorry for the language, I’m just a little frustrated myself.
It’s been almost two week since we fucked decently. His cock got busted because we fucked too ruff, he says. I suspect that having his sperm tested has something to do with his sudden inability to come inside me. He didn’t have any trouble masturbating, when I told him he should, because he just couldn’t come with me. He confessed that the amount of sperm in the cup looked measly. He also confessed later that he thought now that us not getting pregnant was his fault. The conversation has gone no further although I’ve tried to talk about it a couple of times. He says our situation (no sex) and his feelings on being able to have children have nothing to do with each other. Hou-key… What can you say to that?
I’ve watch all the porn I can watch. I’m so angry at him at this point for not even wanting to have sex with me that I’m plotting not succumbing, when his needs to arise. I know I won’t, and I know it’s childish, but what else can I do? I feel like I’ve done all the right things and nothing has changed.
Tomorrow we’ll leave to my dad’s summer cottage and will sleep with relatives in the same room. Wonderboy is taking a nap now.
I’m tired too! I’m in need of a hug and intimacy and sexual gratification or at least sexual bonding in one way or another!
And here I am – writing this blog.
Yay for me and my Friday night.
PS. I should probably add that these almost two weeks just happened to happen very accurately at the time of my ovulation. But no worries – there’s 12 changes in a year and that was just one of them!