Dec. 12th, 2011

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Dec. 12th, 2011 03:03 pm
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I am not a strong person...or at least I don't feel like one. Especially on nights like this as I sit in the call room unable to sleep. (written at 4 AM) I can be alone and be happy. I can endure. But I do best when I have an anchor.

When I was little, I planned to travel all over the world, but even in my imaginary adventures I had a cottage to come home to. A small safe place to call my own that didn't change while I was gone. I have never in real life had that- a place of my own. Everywhere I've ever lived has either been temporary, rented, or shared with Jason. I wonder if I will ever have that place to call home.

Jason has been my home, and my anchor, for a long time. But reading over the last 7 years of journal entries (written the next day), some of the issues we are experiencing have been there from the start. He has never been a true partner. I have consistently asked him to be one...with improvement for a while and then backsliding and broken promises. Emotionally he has been wonderfully affirming and helpful...but not always available. He's been depressed for a long time, but refuses to deal with it. Our issues sometimes intersect in bad ways- he has me on an impossibly high pedestal and the fall will be horrific. His drinking has been getting worse, but he still think he can control it. In the end, I know he loves me but maybe that is not enough.

I still wish we could work things out...that he could be the man I want him to be. But he's not. And he may never be that man. So I need to look at where we are now, not where I want to be. I guess we'll see.

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