I wish I had more time and privacy to write. There are so many things I need to say.

Right now I am in the midst of wondering if I love my husband. What does it mean to love someone? I remember being in love. It was fantastic. A fairy tale come true. Thrilling, absorbing, exciting, enchanting. Those first few months I was in a different world.

Two kids and halfway through a third pregnancy later, there are none of those emotions left, none of the newness, the discovery, the romance, the passion. I know this is not unusual; there’s a reason a lot of people get divorced but stay friends. And of course, along with the lack of all the good stuff are the glaringly obvious faults my husband has. Faults I did not anticipate back in fairy tale land.

I know we’re all human and therefore flawed. But it’s these particular flaws that I’m finding so hard to live with. And I wonder; if I can’t accept him for who he is, if I can barely scrounge up a particle of appreciation for him most days, then do I really love him? What does it mean to love someone when the feelings are gone? When you don’t really enjoy spending time with him anymore? When it seems like our life together is all drudgery and boredom and conflict?

There are good moments. But I feel like these are merely shadows of how things used to be. Does loving him mean that I simply endure? Or is that not really loving him but just saving our life together? Because I think there is a difference between just going about your business together, even if you feel unhappy or lonely, and actually loving each other, being loving.

I haven’t felt lonely since I met him, but for the first time I am starting to feel lonely again. He says I am chronically discontent, and that may be true. But I don’t feel understood, and it doesn’t seem like he wants to understand me. We had a very large disagreement about polyamory a while ago. I was theoretically exploring the concept, and he basically rejected me in an extremely self-righteous, religious way. He put divorce on the table, which I found extremely ridiculous, considering that polyamory is the concept of being able to have many loves at one time, whether that be just emotionally intimate relationships or sexually intimate as well. Polyamory attempts to preserve relationships, recognizing that jealousy and ownership are not actually part of love, while divorce is simply breaking relationship.

I think I started exploring this concept because I feel bored with our relationship, and I want the excitement of meeting someone new. I don’t find much of anything fun anymore, but I’ve always found it exciting to meet new people. I feel a lack of community, as my husband is not particularly social and we don’t ever do anything together with other families. I spend time with my friends alone or with my kids, but it’s not the same. Our family spends a lot of time in the house together by ourselves, and it drives me insane. Obviously, my husband is not bothered by this in the same way that I am.

I wonder if I am mildly depressed, due to winter, pregnancy, and isolation. I fantasize about running away to somewhere warm, but then I realize I couldn’t leave the kids, and then I realize that I can’t take care of them by myself right now, as I am pregnant and can’t lift anything heavy, like a toddler, and then I just feel trapped and…depressed.

I think about leaving my husband when I get tired of how controlling he is, how easily offended he is, how difficult it is to talk to him about anything that matters, how he doesn’t make any effort to improve our marriage, how he works all the time, how he judges me, how he nags me, how he resists me. But then I don’t know what I will do for money, as I don’t want to put the kids in daycare, and I don’t know how I will take care of the kids by myself. Plus, he is a good dad who spends time with his kids, even if he sometimes too harsh, and I don’t think it’s good for kids to be separated from their dad. But I also don’t think it’s good for kids to have an unhappy mom and have their parents in an unhappy relationship. Although my husband probably doesn’t think we’re unhappy.

I don’t like bringing this stuff up with him because it’s always me that sees the problems therefore (according to his logic) I must have the problem.  But I’m seriously getting tired of this lack of passion, this lack of love between us. I don’t feel cared for. I don’t know if he feels cared for by me, but I certainly don’t feel caring.

And I especially don’t feel that he has a proper sense of amazement or awe or wonder for me being pregnant. I am creating life. I am providing space for life to grow. In particular, for his offspring. I have done this twice already, and he loves his kids. But he doesn’t seem to get it that I am the one making it possible for him to be a dad. And that it’s a big sacrifice. My body is literally taken over. Everything changes, from the hormones coursing through me twenty four hours a day to my blood volume to the shape of my body to the aches and pains I feel to my nutritional needs. He doesn’t say “yes dear” or the equivalent. Everything has to be a conflict. Everything has to be a negotiation, an explanation. It pisses me off. I should get carte blanch if I want to drink the expensive orange juice or feel upset about nothing.

I know it’s hard for him to have me tired and not capable of doing what I normally can, but he also doesn’t understand what it’s like to be stuck at home all day with the kids with no vehicle, in the winter, pregnant, tired, and grouchy. Taking care of kids is physical labour, and it wears me out, not to mention how emotionally draining and mentally unstimulating it is.

Anyway, I don’t have much more time to write. Gotta take care of the kids.

So, do I love my husband? I don’t know. I don’t even know what love is. I know it’s not always a feeling, but man, it sure seems like it should be.