We don't always know what's good for us. And even when we suspect we do, we don;t always choose it.

I don't know where we're going from here. I'm scared too. Afraid that I'm making a big mistake. Afraid of what it'll mean if I voice that fear. I mean, there's a reason he asked for an open marriage, right> There are things he needs to sort out. And it's in our best interests to allow him to do so.

And I have had my life on hold for far too long. Honestly, I have secretly resented it. It might feel like a huge leap backwards, but I would like to believe that this is what it will take to move forward.

I am riddles with doubt, And I grieve for my marriage. I'm not the best housewife, but I *loved* being wifey. I need to be needed, to support and encourage and care for someone.

It's all gone, then. The happy house in my mind I thought we were building is gutted and vacant, wiring exposed, walls half-built: the nursery, his gaming den, my recording studio...dust, all of it. Pack away the white picket fence, the preternaturally green lawn, the cheery decor. Shut it down, bar the doors, send in the bankers with their calculating eyes and cold, hard pencils, scribbling busily away.  Let them take it all away.

My heart is broken. But I want to believe. I want to believe in love, and hope. And beauty in the world.

Things were so hard when we were starting out. We had so many regrets. I wish... If only... Why couldn't...? My answer was always the same: because that's what it took for us to be together, that's what it took to find you, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

And now...I just don't know.