You asked me if I was OK. I told you that I was. You went to sleep. I’m not OK.

I’m angry. I’m angry because that’s easier than being honest enough with myself to give in to what I should be feeling. I’m not even sure if I should be writing this to you but I have things to say, and as much as my instinct is to wake you up to hash things out, I can’t.

I’m not even two paragraphs in, and I’m finding it difficult to keep doing what I’m doing. The fact is that there are things swirling around inside of me that can only be stopped by talking to you. I hate not having the option but here we are…

I’m feeling disappointed. I’m disappointed because I wanted some time with you to just be us. We spent the day recovering from a laundry list of tasks. We spent the day dealing with work, kids, shopping, noise, chores, and a bunch of other stuff that needed to be over with before I could spend time alone with you.

I’m feeling resentful. This one is a little more complicated because it’s not entirely about you. It’s about the way I’m reminded of all the people who’ve ever left me feeling unimportant. This isn’t an accusation — it’s how I feel. I’m tempted to say more about this but I worry that I’ll just make things worse.

I’m feeling hurt. I didn’t need sex, but I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want it. Of course I did! Being turned down isn’t what hurt though. What hurt is that when it was clear that sex wasn’t going to happen, I tried to be playful with you. I just really needed some sort of connection with you at the end of a day that was all about everybody and everything else. You bringing up another detail about the stresses of the day, in that moment, told me that whatever energy you had left in you was not available to me.

I don’t ever want to go to sleep with a tired worker, a parent, an angry adult child, someone else’s ex, or any of the other things that get between you and I. I don’t ever want to go to sleep hating your touch. I hate it right now. I hate it because it’s a silent reminder that you were too tired for me. That being everything else left you with absolutely nothing for me. The day is over, I’m all alone in your presence, and it hurts.

I don’t know if me feeling this way is fair or not. I only know that it’s honest.

Can any of you relate to this? Send me an email. I’d love to hear from you!

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AC Fischer is an inspirational speaker, an activist, a philosopher, a writer, a podcaster, a producer, and a romantic.

AC Fischer is an inspirational speaker, an activist, a philosopher, a writer, a podcaster, a producer, and a romantic.