Trainwreck.

You never touch me anymore- those times when you would just graze my lower back, touch my hand, kiss me unexpectedly… Those touches might be small, but they’re HUGE to me.

Not once at our son’s birthday party did you approach me. Not once did you ask me if you could help. Not a single picture of the three of us together. Because apparently I’m just a single mom. Apparently I’m fucking superwoman and can do everything by myself.

You’re so quick to say I’m spiraling and getting angry over every little thing, but you don’t even realize that for WEEKS, MONTHS even, I’ve been pointing out the things that bother me. You either don’t hear me because you’re too busy talking to random people on your game, or you turn it around and tell me that the things that bother me aren’t the problem. I’m the problem for feeling any type of way about it.

I can’t fucking talk to you about anything with you turning it around and blaming me.

We fight, you walk away not giving a fuck, I walk away feeling like I can’t fucking do anything right. You walk away like everything’s normal, and I walk away with hurt feelings, wondering if you even love me anymore.

It’s not fair. And I’m so tired of feeling alone when I’m around the two most important people in my life.

I go to work and bust my ass and do side jobs to make sure the bills are paid because you can’t work. And then I come home, and there’s piss on the bathroom floor, crumbs all over the kitchen counters, dirty dishes piling up in the sink, garbage overflowing. I tell you that your kids need to help out more, and somehow I’m still the problem because I shouldn’t be irritated. I shouldn’t be upset that I work all day, and then come home and have to clean up after everybody else instead of coming home and being able to spend time with my son.

I make sure you and your kids are good. I make sure my son is good. But what the fuck about me? I’m just a maid. I’m just the default parent.

You don’t even see that the way you treat me makes me feel like you don’t give a fuck, but when I ask if you still love me, you get so offended. How dare I question your love for me?

I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically and emotionally fucking exhausted. I just want to feel like you give a shit sometimes.

I want you to address the problems with your kids instead of just making me feel like I’m a piece of shit. I want you to love me like you did the first night you came back into my life. Because that love isn’t there anymore. And if it is, you don’t do a very good job of showing it.