Anybody else feel like they can share more openly in Notes than in their newsletter?

I have friends and family signed up to my newsletter, but I’m pretty sure they don’t come into the app. I could test it...

I chickened out on my last post. I couldn’t bring myself to be more personal. I knew it would make my point come across better so I’m a little disappointed in myself.

Here’s the personal I left out:

Even though I was the one who left, I didn’t see it coming. I believed for more than ten years that we’d be married until death do us part. The biggest warning sign, anecdotally the most common warning sign, was when I suggested marriage counseling. 

I felt like my ex designed his life perfectly and expected me to slot right into it without regard for my needs. I couldn’t get him to understand the hurt he caused and the frustration I felt. Perhaps a third party, a marriage counselor, could help. 

“I’m fine, you go if you feel you need to,” he said dismissively, barely looking up from his phone. I didn’t go. The problem wasn’t just with me. There were two of us in that marriage. Committed to being together, I dismissed my needs too. 

Years went by. Our children got older. We had our roles and routines. We had our laughs and our disagreements. Eventually our arguments became more frequent. “I just can't do this anymore," I thought to myself, staring blankly at the ceiling in the dead of night. Beside me, my ex slept, oblivious to my silent tears. 

Then one night, while lying next to me in bed, he said, "It doesn't feel like you love me.”

“How can you say that?” I asked incredulously, turning the light on and sitting upright. I proceeded to tell him all the ways I showed him I loved him. I told him about how I dropped everything to have lunch with him when he called with a last minute invite, how I ran up to him to hug and kiss him when he came home from work. I continued pouring my heart out to him. Then when I stopped, he said, “Well, I just don’t feel it.”

The walls closed in on me. My heart tightened painfully. I couldn’t breathe. I could not get air into my lungs. I bolted out of bed and ran to the bathroom where I fell to the ground sobbing, uncontrollably, involuntarily. 

He never said a word. Ever. Nothing about how he didn’t mean it, how he knew I loved him. Not one word. So I believed him. 

The thing is…I never said a word about that night either.