Three types of love: Agape, Phili, and Eros. Agape is universal love, Philia is familial and friendship love, and Eros is the one that fucks us all up.

I have felt universal love. A few times. Most profoundly in the rooms of AA. When there is some truth happening. It’s like my heart opens up and pours out all over every body regardless of what they look or sound like or how I felt about them a minute ago. I have felt it meditating. I have felt it running Story Tribe. Sitting in a circle with teenagers, watching them be brave and honest and true. I feel human then. And connected. That is where I get to feel that human connection that I have been aching for my whole life.

The four horsemen of the marriage apocalypse are: contempt, defensiveness, blame, and shame. When any of these dirty beasts rears their ugly head divorce is almost guaranteed. I hear that the antidote to this deadly disease is a concoction of love, appreciation, and gratitude.

Count how many times you utter something loving and positive to your partner today.

I said good-bye in a kind voice.

I think I told him his haircut looked nice.

I should tell him I love him when he gets home.

If I am still awake.

I will.

I woke up with the question- do I love my husband?

The way we met was so interesting. It felt so destined. Meant to be. In this really calm nurturing way. I was seduced by his kindness, his gentleness. I wasn’t experiencing much of it while dating at the time. So I overlooked some things. But no matter. Such is life. When you have an attachment disorder.

Talking about love makes me anxious.

I feel the familiar rapid pitter patter in my chest

I need to take a walk

This weekend I went to a big fundraiser for the foundation I work for. I wore a dress, heeled boots, and full on make-up. I was done did. When I was getting ready to leave I asked Tim if I looked okay. He said I looked fine.


When I walked into the event my boss, who has absolutely zero interest in me sexually, remarked with enthusiasm and what I might call shock, “WOW! You look great! Really. That is a great look on you!”

Throughout the night, as if on cue, every person I saw that night remarked on how beautiful I looked.

Except my husband.

Now. To his credit- he was about to go to the Oscars for the first time with a client. He has never been more stressed out in his entire life.

AND he has never been one to overflow with gusto in the appearance category when I dress up.

How unfair is it for me to expect him to suddenly be different than he is?

I just really wanted to hear it from him.

However, before he left for the awards, I did make a point of telling him how handsome he looked in his tux.

I realized this evening while driving home from the event that I have never had a car, a house, or a relationship last longer than 4 years.

This house, car, and husband are all heading into year 5.

I want to move. I want a new car. And I kind of want a new husband.

Is it me or is it him?

I can’t fucking tell.

I hate love.


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