Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be honest and I appreciate that. Here, I splurge. No one comes out looking good. It is a selfish place written by a pretty selfish person. It is a place of ranting and I am, ultimately, an unreliable narrator. Bear that in mind. I attempt to be honest, but things are very much from my point of view.

Highly subjective views of people in my life proliferate. It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above. I can also heartily recommend that Dysphoria link if you're questioning or interested. Thank you!

Saturday, 8 February 2020

This is the End

Talked to Tilly over the last two days. I don't want to admit it but I think we're properly approaching the end. It's all the ASD. Tilly can't cope with it, and never has been able to. We're going to try and plan for an end, properly, over the weekend.

I feel awful. It confirms my suspicions long held that I am not romantically loveable. And that Tilly was only in this to have children.

She even said that she assumed we'd have a third child when she was 40. I pointed out that I would still have opposed and she said that she would have thought we'd have grown and so it wouldn't matter.

Basically, confirmation that my views have never been a part of her planning.

She's looking into Universal Credit to see if that can offset enough for me to rent something that the kids can visit me in. But right now she's out getting a parcel. The conversation has been amicable thus far, but upsetting.

Full disclosure, I started chastity again on Sunday. I don't know why. It just felt, physically, like my genitals needed to be in my device. I can't explain it, and it has been welcome.

Work has been hard. Very much so. Incredible pressure, just about weathered, and ongoing. Hence lack of record keeping.

And, for now, this is the end.