All I Ever Wanted

Disclaimer: Nothing is all I ever wanted. Nothing. Because I want a lot of things. In fact I might be demanding. Whatever.

But this week I asked for something special.
I wanted a week of peace.
I wanted a week of not talking about or worrying about it.
I wanted to just not think about addiction or emotional trauma or heartbreak.
I wanted zero breakdowns and zero moments stressing.

[insert laugh track here....because remember? addiction knows no holidays.]

Husband was on board and even made some extra efforts to avoid stress triggers for him. He paid all the bills and promised not to look at any of our financial accounts. (Some poor investing decisions are really stressing him out.) He followed up on some outstanding projects. He went above and beyond to be sure he was as prepared as he could be for this week.

Miraculously it was all going well - until it wasn't.

Tonight as we were talking he gawked at my boobs, took a deep (turned on) breath (does anybody else hate the deep turned-on breath?) and informed me (for the 25th time in 2 days) that he wanted me.

I sortof lost it.

At 7:25 on the first night we might have some time together in 3 weeks I told him to leave until he could calm down and act like a human being.

At 7:28 he told me if I was worked up I could leave.

So I did. Gladly.

I grabbed a good book and my keys and headed out.

I got my haircut. (yay for haircuts!)
I sat alone in an calm and peaceful IHOP booth while someone brought me a drink with a straw. I'm typically the straw fetcher around here. It's nice to be waited on.
I listened to my own radio station as loud as I wanted.
I got closer to ready to host book group.

And when I came home I felt a little better. Though not ready to enjoy any kind of conversation with Husband because I fear I'd say something horrible to him.

Here's what I wonder: Will I ever stop resenting him wanting me? Will I ever grow up and stop wishing for stress free weeks realizing that life just isn't like that? Will I ever be truly OK with this being my life for more than a few weeks at a time?

I have plenty moments when I'm resigned to this. I realize that my life might not look like other people's, and that I might not live the way that I always thought I would and that's OK. But I always come back to this feeling of disappointment. Wishing it was different. All of it different. Wishing I could have all I ever wanted.