Happy birthday, yet again

 You weren't here. For two weeks we have laughed, talked, mild, I missed you so much and worried when I didn't hear from you. I picked you up Friday so excited you were home! And that was that. I sat on the end of your bed to spend a little time with you but you kept putting your feet in my lap. The only thing you missed was my foot rubs. I should be honored but I was hurt. You didn't ask about me, not once. I knew you were tired and I figured we'd spend Saturday together, maybe visit your mom? No, you went alone. The only person that excludes me from your family is you, the one who should be including me. And after you give your mom her gift which was my idea, you selfish prick, you came home, dressed up, and went to the bar. You are only back home for 13 hours! I shouldn't be surprised, I'm actually surprised you didn't just have me drop you off the night before.

After you left, everything came crashing back. Missing you and loving you are not the same thing. You got back from the bar 7 hours later and I could hear you stomping and banging around so I stayed in my room. I had my door closed because I was burning incense. You open the door and said something about shutting me out after all this and went away. About a half an hour later you closed your bedroom door. Well that'll teach me! Go back to New york.

 Each night I go in and I sit at the feet of Mike's bed and I listen for him in case he stops breathing. On the 17th he pulled me down onto the bed and asked if he could have a quickie. I said no and struggled to get up and he held me down. Nothing happened, and I wasn't going to go back in there for a while because I don't feel safe. On the 18th of February like an idiot that I am, I went back in and sat at the foot of his bed because he got his CPAP machine and I wanted to make sure it didn't choke him or he didn't stop breathing except he didn't have the correct water so he didn't put it on. Instead he told me his dick was hard and could he f******. Me. I just sat at the edge of the bed crying because this is not what I want in a relationship and I have told him. He knows how much sex hurts and the problem is he likes it when it hurts. I knew that I wasn't going to get out of his room without giving in so I just bent over the bed and turned my body off. I can't stand this man who treats me with such disrespect and I can't wait for King County Housing to come forward and give me a place to live so I feel safe and I feel happy. This is not a true man this is not a man that treats women this way. How would he feel if someone talked to his mother or his daughters this way? And yet it's okay to talk to me this way?? When I say no he gets all angry and throws a hissy fit fine, I won't ask you anymore and yet two or three days later he's telling me we're going to have sex, why don't you want to f***? Because I don't have meaningless sex and I don't want you in my life. Can't stand you don't love you told you this many times get your skunk ass garlic onion vodka breath away from me! The worst part of it is? Today's our 13th year anniversary and I would rather slit my wrists then let this man touch me. I know I'm going to have to let him "finish the job" because we didn't get to last night. Because when I lay there like a log he doesn't understand oh she's not liking this oh, maybe I should stop. No, he gets angry because his dick goes soft and there's nothing he can do about it because he's an alcoholic. I wish I had somebody I could talk to.