Want to hear the definition of uncomfortable? Try going to a movie with your husband that's chock full of sex even though you and your husband's level of intimacy is strained at best.

True story.

Last night my husband and I went to see Choke. If you go to see it then expect to see plenty of sexual situations. It's not like I wasn't expecting it since I read the book beforehand, but it was the first time my husband and I had been to a movie together that featured so much naked fun during a period in our life when our sex life consists of once a week or so me nudging him and saying, "If you want to do it, go ahead before I go to sleep." Ahh, romance. 

It's tough to watch a movie that so blatantly displays one of the very things we have tried to deal with but can't seem to fix.

You've heard about not talking about the elephant in the room? This was like the elephant sat in front of us at the theater and bellowed loudly from its trunk every few minutes.  And wore a big hat. And threw popcorn at us.

Stupid elephant.

My husband is enough of a gentleman to not nudge me and say something vulgar about how he's glad someone is getting some enthusiastic sex once in a while, but I've been with the man long enough to know what goes through his mind. 

Unfortunately I haven't figured out how to turn off emotions and just have a passionate romp in bed with him while our relationship flounders. I wish I could, though, because it would certainly make going to the movies a lot easier. 

There is a new trend arising in my house. Every few nights before falling asleep, my husband will roll over and sigh, and then look at me with the whole, "We gotta talk" facial expression.

He'll then start telling me that this isn't working, when am I going to stop being mad at him for the past, what does he have to do to get his wife back, etc, etc.

That one is my favorite:  "What do I have to do to get my wife back?"

It's not what he should be doing now. It's what he should have been doing years ago. He should have taken a more active role in parenting instead of leaving it all to me. He should have helped me out when I had post-partum depression instead of just waiting for it to go away. He should have spent some time nurturing our relationship when we became new parents instead of just dumping everything into my lap while he spent seven hours a night playing video games.

He shouldn't have resisted counseling when I begged him to go.

What is he supposed to do now to get his wife back? I haven't a clue. Does he want the same wife he had before kids...the one who had tons of energy and could spend inordinate amounts of time making sure everything was just right for her husband? Does he want the wife who trusted that her husband would always have her best interests in mind? Does he want the wife who didn't stick up for herself when things weren't right?

That wife is gone, baby, gone.

One thing is evident. My whole tactic of waiting everything out to see what happens next seems less and less effective nowadays.  My husband and I have both said out loud that our relationship isn't working. What happens next is anybody's guess. 

I took introduction to psychology in college so I have a general idea of what the term "passive aggressive" means. It wasn't until recently, however, that I really got to witness it in person.

Apparently my husband has decided that this is his newest way to complain about the things I do without actually complaining about them.

Here are a couple of examples, which could easily be compiled with a slew of others for a "passive-aggressive husband reference manual":

The other day my kids and I went out to lunch with a couple of other moms and their kids. I don't eat out for lunch all the time, and this was an impromptu get-together. I had packed my husband a lunch that morning for him to take to work so he had leftovers. When he gets home he tells me this: "The guys at work said, 'Let me get this straight...she gets to eat out for lunch and you have to eat leftovers? Man, that's messed up!' Ha-ha!"

Translation: He's ticked off that I got to eat out and he had to eat leftovers.

My husband recently did some volunteer work with the guys at church that involved a lot of physical labor and when he got home he said, "Bob told me he was so glad that his wife and daughter were out of town because after we finished up he was going to go home and take a long nap without interruption. Ha-ha!"

Translation: He wants to take a nap but knows that we already agreed that he would take the kids so I could get some work done. He's hoping I suggest he takes a long nap and I'll just stay up until two in the morning working.

How do I know it's all passive aggressive? These comments don't even go with the flow of conversation. They come out of nowhere, and he gives a long pause afterward as though he's waiting for me to fall to my knees and beg his forgiveness for going out to eat with my friends/not offering him a four hour nap/whatever else I do that ticks him off.

I'm walking through the store, barely noticing the music they're pumping into the sound system, when all of a sudden I realize that I'm singing along with the tune that's playing: "Going to the Chapel." I used to love that song. When I was about 10 or 11 years old my parents gave me a cassette of Motown classics and I used to play it over and over, singing along and making up dances.

Back then I thought that was just the way it worked. You meet a boy, you fall in love, and "we'll never be lonely anymore." I'll admit that when that particular lyric hit the sound system I actually snorted out loud.

When I was younger I really thought that would be true. I thought that marriage was a partnership and I would never feel lonely for companionship or for the romantic gazes from a man who loved and adored me.

It wasn't even that I thought I would find a man and have his undivided attention forever, but I never thought that I would wind up married and lonely. Bitterly lonely. The kind of lonely where you sit in your house and think to yourself, "Who the heck is this guy that I'm married to?"

Back in better times, I wasn't lonely at all. We had a good social group and my husband and I would spend hours talking to each other and laughing and generally having a great time.

Fast forward to now, and we don't really have that much to say to each other. He'll tell me about his day and then listen politely while I tell him about mine, then he switches on the television while I work. So instead of "we'll never be lonely anymore" my lyrics are more like "we'll never feel connected anymore."

That stinks.

What would happen if I just made up my mind to leave? How would life change for me and for my family? Would I find the inner peace that I lack right now? Would everything magically get better?

I'm not delusional. I know that it would be ridiculously hard. Most of all, I know that it would be a really difficult transition for my kids. They're young and as far as they know, mommies and daddies stay together.

Did I say it would be "difficult?" Maybe I should change that to "horrible." "Tragic." "Life-altering."

"The end of a secure life."

Am I being dramatic? I just try to think of what it would be like if a life truth was suddenly changed for me. What if my house burned down? What if I lost my arm? I can only imagine what it's like to suddenly have everything change.

I know that I would recover just fine. I know the process would be painful, but in the long run I think that it would make me happier overall. Then again, how can I be happy when I cause so much pain to my kids?

What a tangled web.

If I one day suddenly blurted out, "I can't take this anymore. I need a divorce," then it would be a bizarre combination of a huge weight lifted off my shoulders while also opening the door to a bunch of new drama and turmoil. It’s like I know what I want the eventual outcome to be, but I don't want to deal with all the stuff in between.

So what happens if I just make up my mind to leave? The world will be turned upside down. My life will never be the same again. The question then becomes, will the new life be better, and worth the effort?

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend of mine from church. She asked me how my husband and I had met and I laughed while I told her the usual thing I tell people: "We met in the dormitory and he couldn't stand me."

Everyone gets a real kick out of this story about how a man could detest a woman but eventually wind up married to her.

I've been thinking about this a lot. Does my husband like me now? I can't imagine I'm all that easy to live with. I tried to leave him once and I'm emotional unavailable a good portion of the time because I don't feel connected to him. I don't initiate sex. I work long hours and I'm critical of him when he doesn't push himself like I push myself.

I don't think I would like me either.

He's professed his undying love to me through this entire process of trying to figure out if we'll stay together, but I'm having a hard time figuring out if he really loves me, or if it is instead a case of not wanting to wind up divorced like his parents, or not wanting to break up the family, or — hopefully not — he doesn't want to lose the dame who cooks his meals and makes sure he has clean underwear.

Would I want to stay with someone like me? No, I probably wouldn't. Then again, my husband has pushed me to the sheer brink of madness but I'm still here, aren't I?

What a mess.

If you've never been in a situation where you didn't know if your husband's love for you was genuine or if instead he really liked having a live-in maid, then let me tell you this: It stinks. It's also very confusing. Most of all, though, it's awfully lonely.

My parents were always very affectionate when I was growing up. It was almost embarrassing how much they hugged and smooched each other, but there was something cool about it because it was obvious that they really loved each other and enjoyed being around one another.

My husband and I used to be pretty affectionate — after all, that's what I grew up with so it seemed natural — but the worse the issues in our marriage became, the less affectionate we became. You would be hard pressed to see us holding hands or embracing each other for longer than a standard, "Hi, welcome home from work" hug. We're so distant from each other that showing affection seems weird. Sometimes, I just don't want him to touch me.

What is this conveying to my kids? I know people say that a separation would damage my kids, but what potential damage are we doing by staying together?

We don't scream at each other, but we don't portray a married couple who necessarily enjoys being around each other. I don't want my kids to get the impression that this is what a marriage is supposed to be like. I know that the example my husband and I set right now will have a lasting impression on our kids forever. I'm really trying to not screw this all up.

I did something last night that I never thought I would do: I "came out" to my friends about the problems my husband and I have been dealing with.

I was out to dinner with four other ladies and the subject of my husband's potential business trip came up. One of the women asked if I would be sad about him leaving again, and it all just came spurting out.

Some things happened that I expected would happen:

-They were all pretty much stunned.

-They wanted to talk about the subject way beyond what I wanted to talk about.

-They all told me they were on my side, which although comforting in a way, I don't want people having to choose sides between me and my husband. It's weird.

There were also some interesting things that happened that I wasn't really expecting:

-My friend sitting next to me didn't say a word, but just put her hand on mine and squeezed. Without a word it was an amazing display of encouragement and sympathy.

-One friend, without being asked, immediately assured me that her parents' divorce when she was young did not adversely affect her. She said that if anything, she's glad her parents divorced because she can tell now as an adult that they aren't compatible and it would have been tough growing up like that.

-Nobody tried to talk me out of leaving my husband.

-Nobody gave me the whole, "...but you guys are so good together!" spiel that I was dreading.

Believe it or not, it was one of the most intimidating things I have ever done. I felt so vulnerable, and I was really afraid that these women would have no way of understanding what I was going through. Although they are all in seemingly great marriages, they all did a fantastic job of not making me feel like an outsider because of my marital issues.

The other day was a doozy. The kids were both stir-crazy because of the rain, and when they get stir-crazy they get awfully clingy and needy. I had three deadlines looming and I had to go to a meeting. The house was a mess and I couldn't figure out a time to go grocery shopping even though the pantry was pretty much bare.

All in all, it was the kind of day where I felt stretched to the limit and although I wanted nothing more than to curl into bed and hide from the world it just wasn't an option.

Too many obligations, and not enough of me to go around.

After the kids were in bed I sat down to punch out the work that I had to do. I figured if I worked for two hours straight I could get to bed before midnight, then the next day I could try to tackle the housework and maybe get to the grocery store if everything worked out.

I had been working for a few minutes when my husband stopped flipping through the television channels and looked over at me. "I need to talk to you about something," he said, and then proceeded to tell me that I wasn't paying enough attention to him.

Now that's bad timing.

I was already on edge because I was trying to deal with so much at once. Sometimes it gets overwhelming: kids, work, keeping up the house...I understand that when I have so much to deal with my husband's need for attention might take a back seat. There are just some times when I have to get stuff done and I don't have the time to fawn over him.

That either makes me a realist, or it makes me incredibly insensitive to my husband's needs. Or maybe I'm an insensitive realist.

I work hard. It would be great to end an evening with my husband saying something along the lines of, "I know you've been stretched thin lately. What can I do to help?" instead of, "Pay more attention to me."

A comment from previous post got me thinking about something that I need to clarify: If I ever gave the impression that I am without blame in the problems within my marriage, it was not intentional. If anything, I carry a huge burden on my shoulders and in my heart because of the things I did (or didn't do, but should have) that may have contributed to our problems.

I can be critical of my husband. Oftentimes I bring my experiences with my father into what I expect from my husband. My dad was often unemployed and relatively lazy, and sometimes I expect my husband to fall into similar patterns if he doesn't stay exactly on track.

I do not do well taking a backseat to things. I want to be involved in every major decision, and I think that sometimes this may make my husband feel as though I don't allow him to wear the metaphorical pants in the family.

When things started getting rough between my husband and me, I turned toward my work instead of forcing the issue. Maybe if I had persisted in aggressively fixing things, we wouldn't be in the spot we're in now.

I have a hard time forgiving him for the stuff he has put me through. If I could just get over it, I think we could just be a happy little family.

I readily admit all these things. There has never been a time when I considered myself blameless in this whole mess. I refuse to accept that it's all my fault, though. I think we're both to blame in one way or another, and that's why I was so adamant that we needed to be in therapy together.

In other words, we made this mess together, so we might as well try to solve it together.

If I ever made anyone think that every single bit of marital problems we have are all because of my husband, then I wasn't getting my point across very well.