On Friday we went to GSP. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to go anywhere. I wanted to lie in my bed all weekend and cry. I didn't want to be near you. You had been hurting me so much without seeming to care. It was more than I could stand. I felt far from you, alienated from you, and you didn't seem to want to deal with the problem. Everything in my body hurt, I felt very sick. If you don't stop being like this to me, I will die.

You convinced me to go to gsp though. You asked me very gently and very kindly. I went although I felt really sick all over. I'd had a headache for two days and my joints hurt.

We drove to Goshen to get the kids without talking much. You asked if I wanted to talk about the problem but it was hard to talk in the car. It was hot out and we had the windows down, the wind was noisy. After we picked up the kids we stopped at Wendys to get food. I felt like an outsider intruding on your family at Wendys and much of the evening. You didn't seem to like me, I haven't seemed to make you happy, although you asked me to marry you, you've merely mumbled once in a month anything about a marriage, a wedding.

We were in the gsp kitchen when crazy cavers came up and I asked Dalene if she knew Kevin Downs. We were talking about bad cave leaders, she lives in Louisville and is a Louisville grotto member and I thought I might be able to get her opinion about him. As I was talking about him and my roppel experience, you started walking out of the room. I could tell by the way you walked, the set of your shoulders, that you had shut me out again. Because I mentioned Kevin Downs in an appropriate conversation so I could complain about him. What little progress we had made, you shut down and backed figuratively away from me again. I saw what you were doing. I thought I could stop it before it started, so I called you over so I could show you I love you even when you do this crap to me. You finally walked over and stood there for a second before leaving me again. You stopped looking at me and talking to me. I felt really terrible again. We went to the cabin to get ready for bed. You were outside and I tried to talk to you. I asked you what was up. You wouldn't talk to me, you barely looked at me. It made me so upset. The little hope I had built up that you were beginning to understand was gone.

I felt lonely, an outsider to you and your kids, unloved, I started to cry so I begain walking to the showerhouse in the dark. I didn't know what I would do after that. I just knew I couldn't let the kids see me like that and I felt really bad. I sat down in the showerhouse, feeling that there was no way we were going to work. I felt like you didn't like me enough to tolerate anything you wouldn't do or say. This attitude freaks me out. To think that anyone on earth would believe that everytime another person does or says something you wouldn't do or say. The only way you would be happy is a planet full of Jerrys.

You seem to tolerate all kinds of things from other people but if I say "let's order", if I allow the kids to do something I find acceptable with pizza, if I walk upstairs without your permission, if my opinion about multi-piece rims is different than yours, if I look at you funny, if I am passionate in my dislike of Walmart, if I am anything different, you become sullen and withdrawn, hostile, silent, and I become desperately lonely and sad. It feels like you only love me when I am robotically like you.