I left him almost 2 years ago, and life has been good since then. There have been difficulties but without the dull ache of an unhappy relationship to return to it has all seemed much brighter.

I miss things, we were together a long time, and lots of it was good, but not enough to overcome the bad.

Moving out was a great decision for me, and my kids are much happier with the situation.

He always thinks I don’t like it when he has to be away from home and 10 years or more ago maybe that was the case, but this time I was so pleased when I heard the news I could barely contain myself, as his course is very close to family he is staying with his sister and the look on his face when I suggested he stay the weekend as well as he hasn’t seen them all in years…

He called me last night, which is pretty unusual, and something I used to complain about. He’d go away, not call to say he’d arrived, or make any contact the whole time he was gone. He asked how it was going, I was straight up with him, said how chilled it was, how nice it was to be able to leave my shoes were I liked and the bed unmade if I felt like it. He wasn’t happy about that and reminded me that when we were apart I always kept my house tidy, and mostly I did, but the thing was it was up to me, no-one was going to start banging things around if I didn’t put my shoes in the cupboard.

He has this opinion that without him around, our daughter won’t get to school on time, we’ll eat take-outs all week, and that the plants won’t be watered, that in fact without him around the place descends into a complete shambles. Although he does not say this in so many words he makes it crystal clear that he thinks I’m a wreck when he’s away.

In my opinion nothing could be further from the truth, when there is only me to rely on then getting everything done is so much easier. Last night I made Covent Gardens parsnip and Parmesan soup. It came out really well, and there is plenty left over for a couple of lunches. I got the lunch ready for today as we have an early start and ironed for the rest of the week.

Being here on my own and relaxed and happy really makes me realise what an idiot I was to move back in…

I was just reading about kissing, I was going to moan that he doesn’t like to kiss, but now I think maybe it’s a guy thing, after seeing Ed Byrne do a stand up routine around the question, “what’s with all the kissing?”

I love to kiss, but can’t even remember the last time that happened beyond a peck. A long time ago thee was a brief encounter with another woman, and oh wow, the kissing was amazing.

I must have heard the term before. I’ve read masses of self help articles, it’s difficult to believe I got to 42 without knowing what passive aggression is, but for some reason a light bulb lit in my head and I started to research Passive Aggressive, OMG a lot of people have written a lot of stuff about it. A lot of it is very gloomy, these articles tell me there is no hope for my relationship the very nature of passive aggressive means that those who are PA can never admit to it, and find it difficult to get any help to overcome it.

Most of the articles focus on how we can change ourselves, how we must start taking care of number 1, and put our needs first. Over the years I have often wondered to myself why my partners needs were more important than mine, of course they never were, but I allowed them to take over, I allowed his needs to be taken care of and mine to be hidden away. Now that I aware of this I am going to try to stop it. This proves difficult, after 20 years of being manipulated by someone who is passive aggressive, I don’t even know my own thoughts any more, and now have to make myself think, do I want this, or, do I want it for him.

Saturday morning was the first confrontation we’ve had. I always back down, not wanting to provoke his sullenness but not this time. I got up after he did and when I came down he’d cooked himself some breakfast. This would normally go without comment, but not any longer.

Me ” I would have liked you to have asked me if I would like breakfast”
Him “you hardly ever have anything.”
Me “I know, but for the last few weekends I have made us both a cooked breakfast, when you were up first and making something, I think you should have asked what I’d like”.
Him ” oh this is great, do you just try to make things as difficult as possible, that’s the weekend ruined now.”
Me, “do not pass this back to me, the weekend does not have to be ruined. I think you should have asked me if I would like breakfast, if you are going to give me the silent treatment because I called you out on something you should have done, then it is you who is ruining the weekend.”
Him ” I’m not going to give you the silent treatment.”

We had an OK weekend, there were a couple of times I thought he wanted to say something but he didn’t. I’m not sure if that’s a success in dealing with passive aggression, but it felt like it to me. Normally if I have something on my mind, my stomach is churning for hours and only when it is something of huge importance will I risk upsetting the apple cart by bringing it up with him. There weren’t any fireworks, and if there had been I would have left him to it.

The great thing for me is knowing that it isn’t about me. It isn’t that I am too fat, not sexy enough, don’t wear enough make up or have the wrong colour hair, it’s all about him and his own insecurities.

What is it about my man that he can wank to the filthiest porn, but to have sex with me missionary position is about the limit. He used to enjoy dirtier sex, but now says he just likes to come, he’s not really bothered how he gets there, just as quickly as possible.

I rarely instigate sex anymore as I almost always get knocked back, but last night, I thought he might be up for some, and although he was soft, I went down on him. I love to suck him when he’s still soft and feel his erection hardening in my mouth, He came fairly quickly and then straight to sleep. I sometimes get pissed off that he does not reciprocate, but last night was OK, I enjoyed doing it, and even more that I had instigated it and that it was not our ‘usual’ time. (mornings).

I really fancy a drink, I rarely have anything because as my inhibitions loosen I become a sexual predator and feel like ripping his clothes off to get started. He hates that I become so desperate, hence I rarely drink. There not much in to have either, there are some spirits, but no mixers, and a bottle of champagne, which I may well chill and open…

What I do wonder then, is there something wrong with our relationship. Has it always been the wrong relationship. I remember it and him being more passionate, but truthfully I have to remember that even in our early days of lust he was always more reserved  than me.

Because my mum was divorced, I grew up seeing the benefits of single life. There are no compromises to make, you watch what you want on the TV, eat what you want and sleep when you want. In these enlightened times of casual internet sex, I expect it would be easy to get laid when you want too. I used to dream of this hedonistic existenence, with no one to answer to, and just a good time to be had. When we did live apart it was nice to watch what I wanted, it was even better to eat what and when I wanted, but it was lonely. Bone chillingly lonely. No-one to comment on the day or the news with and  missed him dreadfully.

I have to remind myself of this frequently when I see a nice single place up for rent, and I dream of my idylic single girl life style.

We’ve had sex. It was the middle of the night, but penetrative sex it certainly was, and, he wasn’t his usual selfish lover either. There was no kissing, or love talk, but for us it was successful and very pleasant sex.

I had to be away overnight for a trip. and when I got back yesterday hoped he’d be horny and up for some, but there was none of it. Any sex we have is usually weekend mornings, but he got up before me this morning. We went out for a lovely walk this afternoon and held hands walking along the beach and reminisced about past holidays. After that we were picking some blackberries in a secluded spot, and I idly wondered how he would react if I was to take off my top and  squash some berries on my breasts, but the thought of the revulsion on his face kept me in check.

I know that if I change he has to change as well. And for a while I thought it was going to work. We have been living back together now for about a year. To start off it was very rocky, there was no trust, but gradually it got better and then it was great. I remember commenting to a friend that if someone told me my relationship could be so good a few months before I would not have believed them. I know it was good because we were having sex. It was still only in bed, and only in the mornings, but it was a lot of mornings. Having sex makes everyone feel better, I read sex is like a barometer for the relationship. I think I also read that it has a cyclical effect, so if things aren’t going too well, but you force yourself into having sex, those feel good emotions get activated  and things improve out of the bedroom as well.

Then it got bad, and it happened quickly. He went away on holiday. I was pleased he did, it was somewhere he wanted to go and I didn’t. He had a great time, and I enjoyed being home. When he got back he was awful; distant, moody and surly. Thinking back now I wonder if maybe he met someone there, a one night stand or something and felt guilty when he returned.

We have had (sort of) sex recently. As he never comes anywhere near me outside of bed (and only in bed when he’s horny), I find it difficult to get in the mood in the time we have. Given my analogy above though that having sex improves everything, I try to put mind over matter and get into the swing of things. A couple of weeks ago he turns to me in the morning, below is a diagram of the foreplay.

The red indicates his hand movements. That was it, there was nothing else…no talking…no kissing, just his hand on some of my erogenous zones. I couldn’t get turned on enough to enjoy penetration. If it did improve anything outside of bed, I wasn’t aware of it.

We don’t often argue, we rarely have cross words, but through this week there was an altercation. He really blew up at me, which is very unusual for him, and I usually let this sort of thing go, and just calm the waters, but he shouted at me, and called me useless etc, and I got really pissed off. so we didn’t speak for a couple of days. he tried to talk to me the next morning, but for once I stuck to my guns and was having none of it. I was waiting for an apology. I don’t know how long we would not have conversed before I got an apology, long enough for us both to have forgotten what the argument was about I suspect. I hate the discomfort and atmosphere so gave in, and we are back to ‘normal’. This morning he was still asleep when i got in the shower ( I fond I want to get out of bed early these days). He was awake when I went back into the bedroom, “how about a fondle before you get dressed” he says. I reply “tempting, I’m having to hold myself back from that delicious offer”, and left him to his right hand….