So Christmas is approaching again. What a weird year it has been. But you and I, we are still here, together. You have never asked me about this blog, despite me telling you that I write to the ether to release my anger and frustrations with you. But that doesn’t seem to register? You go to your psychologist each month now and I guess you use her as your form of blog. I don’t ask you what you discuss, but I am curious to know how she feels you have tackled the year.

Our lives have changed. I have grown into my job and now see a great future there. I think it was because they were so understanding when you were ill, rallied around me, made it as easy as possible for me to go back to work – and I in turn now know that I have to make sure I am self reliant, cause I didn’t know you had potential to leave me, but now I do.

You have a new view of the world. You are happy to go to work. You are not stressed. You earn your money and you pay your bills. Your father has helped you with your debt. You have given up smoking and haven’t had a drink since last Christmas day. It’s pretty amazing. You have done your best to make up for what you put us all through and you have progressed through the year and come out differently.

The awful thing is that part of me now wants to push you away. You’ve hurt me and I still find it hard to comprehend that you wouldn’t speak to me about your fears. I’ve lost the old you, and I guess part of my trust of you.  I know this isn’t fair. My friends remind me that you are ill and yes, I know you are, but it doesn’t make it any easier when I picture all the events of this time last year.

We’ve spoken about moving house. Selling up this place, which is mine, and buying somewhere for ‘us’ – it’s a good plan, but so far you have stalled as much as possible. You say you would like to start afresh and are supporting me, but you find reasons not to buy other places. I know that really you are being ‘sensible’ given your finance woes last year, but for me I want to run away from this place, start a fresh. I want to move to the city, where we can be anonymous. Where no one knows our history. Where we can stroll down the street and mingle with the other ’empty nesters’ having breakfast on a Saturday morning and not be recognised as ‘that couple’. You know, ‘that guy that tried to kill himself on Christmas day,’ and his wife, you know ‘the one whose previous husband was a loony’… But in the same breath I love what we have done to this house, my garden, your outside pergola. Our friends marvel at the craftsmanship, and all our trinkets and memories from our travels – that’s what you need to hear, how amazing your work is. But for me it all symbolises your ‘other’ self and I need to get away from that or find some of the old you to keep me keen.

We have viewed many apartments and have found fault with them all. But I’ll admit, it not just that. We need to figure out our finances together. You see, if it was me on my own again, it wouldn’t be an issue, but in trying to accommodate your children, your needs, my needs etc. nothing seems to fit. So I am being unfair saying it’s all your fault. But I guess I want you to take charge, to help us to move on – to be assertive with our lives. But if you did I’d hate that too! It’s hard to be married to you, the new you, when I miss the old you, well, parts of the old you!

You’ve asked me to come to the psychologist with you this week. I was shocked! I thought you were doing okay, but it appears you have fears approaching Christmas also and she needs to ‘explain’ to me how you feel.

Why can’t you? Why can’t you say how you feel? We’ve been through so much. You say you’re scared to broach the subject with me. So here we are, back at that game again – what’s the worst that could happen?

But you know what, I’m not tolerating it. I don’t want to let you ruin another Christmas for me and the children. We were ready to take a deep breath and dive in again this year – the girls have made decisions and we are to celebrate at my mother’s this year – not my choice, but I was happy to go along with the plan so as to make it as easy for everyone as possible. Your ex-wife decided that your daughters would skip Christmas with you this year, so she can shield them from the memories – we have both thought about this for our children’s sakes – But not you apparently, you ‘can’t face’ Christmas. You have built it up to be something that it totally is not, for us anyway – and I don’t want to give in to what I feel are your selfish tantrums. Again. It’s not about you, but you are still self obsessed and don’t seem to be man enough to realise this – again your emotional immaturity shining through.
You can be alone, you can run away if you like, but I’m sticking to my ground. I am going to give my family the warm loving Christmas they deserve, and restore their faith in love and kindness for each other, no matter what. Why haven’t you learned that yet?