My psychologist says that in relationships, the opposite of love isn’t hatred, but indifference. As long as you feel something for the other person—even if it’s resentment—there’s still hope to save the relationship. Well, I absolutely despise my husband, but I doubt there’s a way back from this feeling…
Out of Defiance
Last night, my wife came into my study, even though we agreed it’s my sanctuary and she shouldn’t just barge in—just like I never break into her closet. She stood there with her hands on her hips, frowning at me. Looking at her, I remembered how much I used to love kissing that waist, and how her face has lost its charm from the constant furrowed brows. She was explaining what I’d messed up this time, but I turned my back and stopped listening; her shouting faded into background noise. I hate this woman so much I’ve developed the ability to completely tune out whatever she’s saying.
Dark Daydreams
When I was younger, I was horrified hearing on TV about spouses killing each other, thinking, "How could people stoop so low?" Now, after 24 years of marriage, I often imagine how much better life would be without him. Sometimes I picture poisoning his food and watching him eat it with a smile. Or maybe pouring champagne on our anniversary, then smashing the bottle over his head. Of course, I’m joking—but believe me, it’s out of desperation. Once, I even caught myself fantasizing about the police showing up to say he died in a car accident, and I’d cry dramatically, then dance with joy once they left. It’s clear I need to get a divorce.
Living on a Minefield
Everyone knows my wife and I hate each other. At family or friend gatherings, we badmouth each other to anyone who’ll listen. Everyone knows we’re only staying together for the kids, and once the youngest graduates, we’ll split. Until then, we live like we’re crossing an endless minefield—never knowing when the next explosion will hit. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone.
The Sight of Him
Sometimes I look at my husband and just feel sick from the sight of him. I can’t believe I once loved this "creature" and promised everyone I’d be faithful forever. Recently, our daughter took a family photo and told him to put his arm around me. When he touched me, I felt nauseous.
The Day
We were at our kid’s soccer game—they won, and he even scored a goal—so we came home in good spirits. We decided I’d make pizza for lunch, and I was happily humming while placing the sausage on the dough when my wife came over and started a fight. She yelled that I’d cut the slices too thick, there was too much tomato, and a bunch of other made-up reasons. Our son begged her to stop shouting—which broke my heart—but she kept going. She ruined the whole day just to argue.
While comforting our crying child, I thought, enough is enough. My wife has always been like this, creating fights out of nothing, and I’ve always tolerated it. But I’ve decided I won’t let her ruin my child’s life anymore. That evening, I told her I was done because my son will only remember her yelling from that day. She promised to change, but I’ve heard that a thousand times and know it won’t happen. I’m afraid that if we divorce, custody will go to her, meaning my son will spend even more time with her. I feel trapped and don’t know how to get out. (My wife refuses to see a therapist.)
