A long thirty years

I continue to be angry that my ex stayed with me, presumably because she couldn't get any one else interested, for 30 years.  

She did not respect me.  She did not like me.  She was not interested in my life or my wellbeing.  

My family didn't like her, either.  Her own parents were overwhelmed by the time I met them.  

It was hell, looking back.  We did lots of things and had faux friends and belonged to a book club.  We traveled and hosted lots of dinners.  We absorbed tons of culture (I did anyway.  My ex "scanned" culture like it was a NYNEX ticker tap.)

I think she was also disgusted with me...she may have been lesbian and not known it. Imagine getting in bed with a penis all those years! No wonder she fell asleep early and turned her back. 

I doubt she knows what she is now. Or more likely she does have some self-understanding.  I'd be the last to know.  I didn't understand who she was for three decades, and she's ill-inclined towards me now.

Such a shame.  I could have had an honest, robust thirty years. I wasted it with someone who was a far worse enemy to herself.  We both bear the scars of the fraud we shared, I'd guess.  Mine are right here on this page.