Love - whatever that is

I write for many reasons - this is catharsis.  Maybe it's self-indulgent, but unless I draw the poison I sometimes think I'll go mad.  No-one needs to read this sort of thing.

My name - my real name - means beloved.  But I never have been.  The only person I knew truly loved me was my late grandmother.  My father couldn't stand me - from an early age, I knew this.  It's okay, he's not a nice man and I can do without him.  My mother sees everything through the prism of herself - she's not capable of standing outside that.

My husband doesn't love me.

He would say he does - and I'm not going to illuminate him - but I know he doesn't.  I watch, you see, how men treat the women they love.  He barely meets my eye, he is very rarely affectionate and the main emotion I evoke in him is irritatation.

Don't get me wrong - when things are bad in other areas of my life, he's a rock.  He gets irritated by the way I handle things but he'll help me battle through things.  But I can no longer pretend that things are okay when I feel this unhappy.

Tonight is a great example - not dramatic but typical.  He was out last night and didn't arrive back until late; this disturbs my sleep, and whilst I do not resent this at all, I was tired today.  Actually I look forward to it because if he is going to be affectionate, it's when he's had a bit to drink - and I like that.  We were both having our hair cut but rather than going home, he went to meet a friend in the pub and said to come and join them.  I would rather have gone home but I was pleased to be asked.  All was well until the end of the evening.  They wanted to go to the pub after dinner, we went in and P's friend bumped into someone he knew.  P and I waited at the end of the bar for him.  I tried to steal a moment for the two of us and attempted to meet his eye and snuggle in to him.  This was rebuffed - because, I was told, he did not like the beer.  He later said this was "needy".  We left; I tried to take his hand and was told no, he needed the loo.  We found a loo and I fumbled for some change - this was described as controlling.  He came out of the loo and flicked water at me - and took my arm and wiped his wet hand on it.  I said "don't do that" and he walked off without a backwards glance.  He often does walk on and doesn't look back but this was pointed in the extreme.  When I caught him up I was told I had caused him to miss the train (a delay of 3 mins) and told to apologise for hurting his feelings when he went to take my arm.  I got a series of comments all the way home about not doing "what a normal person would do", how I am inept at relationships, how I do not know how to be part of a team, I have to have everything explained to me like a child and so on.  I did apologise and tried to explain how I felt from his actions but this was dismissed.  I tried to ask whether it was worth it to cause such an upset.  I was told I'd spoilt a pleasant evening.

As I say, this is not unusual.  I work pretty hard not to cause any kind of upset but inevitably these things happen - I reckon every 2-3 weeks.  He always says it's my fault, I always get the "not normal", that I am controlling and a doormat and that I think the world revolves about me.  Of these, I would say only the doormat accusation is valid.

I do not handle confrontation well.  It feels as though my stomach is beating hard in my heart, my mouth goes dry and I think I might be sick.  I kind of hope I am sick as it would maybe purge the overwhelming feelings of desperation and unhappiness.  In reality I know he'll be fine tomorrow - it will have passed for him.  He's aleep now but my heart is still beating too fast and I feel very unhappy.  I cannot sleep and I do not know what to do with myself except this.

I don't think this is love.  I'm not going to tell him he doesn't love me because a) it sounds arrogant and b) I don't really want him to realise this and leave.  I know he doesn't find me attractive - and in this, I cannot blame him.  I cannot blame him, but he's put on a lot of weight and to me, he's still him.  But I think, no I pretty much know, that if I were more attractive, things would be better between us.  I think he would look at me, meet my gaze, be less dismissive and contemptuous. I know I have integrity and I'm kind but I also know that this is not enough - not for him, perhaps not for anyone.  Fundamentally I fear I am unloveable but I would like to somehow get him to fall in love with me;  I just don't know how.