I never really wanted the life I have now. I never wanted to get married. I never wanted some goofy a** house and white picket fences with neighbors that I have to feign politeness to. I love my son, but I was ambivalent about kids in the first place. If I never had them, I can’t say I would’ve really cared.
I hate my wife, but I married her anyway. Because I felt pressured to. Literally and figuratively. She was breathing down my neck about engagements and planning weddings that I caved and bought her a f****** ring and gave it to her just to shut her up. Then I went house hunting for the same reason. To shut her up. And kids?? She didn’t get pregnant right away after a few tries and thought her world was ending and that she was some barren 28 year old. Heaven forbid she has to wait and work at something and doesn’t receive instant gratification. Now a year and a half later she has a baby and it’s like all that drama she caused never happened.
Let’s not forget that I “converted” to Roman Catholicism and started trying to live the “Catholic” life because she behaved like it mattered to her. Now that the baby is here? She doesn’t attend mass, doesn’t tithe, doesn’t show any interest in any of it, and has the audacity to ask me for a christening. I don’t even give a f*** about this stuff, and if she doesn’t care then I don’t care either.
My wife sees me and everyone around her as a utility, a means to an end. If you have no use to her, she’ll cast you aside. I’m over it. At this point I simply survive in my marriage for my kid and try not to think about killing myself.
