Had a good day with my kids, but I'm having body contact withdrawl.  It's not even sex I'm craving.  It's having another adult body pressed up to mine that I'm missing.  Sex machine or not, it seems that what I'm really missing is just closeness and touching.

My asshole wife has had a problem with chronic depression ever since her father died 12 years ago.  When she was really down, I would try to be there for her.  There was something that I'd always tell her that I thought made her feel better:  "No matter how bad things seem right now, remember, you've got two great kids, and a husband that loves more than anything."

I had no idea how much I used that same thought as a crutch.  I've still got two great kids, but they're fucked up now due to circumstance beyond their controll.  I most definitely don't have a wife who loves me very much.

I miss my wife very much.  I don't miss the fucking creature she's become at all.  But I really, really miss my wife.  My father thinks I've been sleeping with the enemy for a long time now.  He thinks the Vegas move was a step towards what I'm going through now, that this was a part of some master plan.

I remember how sweet my wife was back when she showed human emotions and might have been a tiny bit overweight.  When we went out to a movie, she'd just put her hair up, put on jeans and a baseball cap and we'd go.  For the last six months, it's 45 minutes of flat iron and blow dryer action to go to the fucking mailbox.

I really miss sharing my life with another adult that I'm intimate with.  My daughter has been great through this whole business.  She was really there for me when nobody else was at the worst of my surgical recovery.  It's not the same.  I need an adult to share my life with.  I don't want it to be my wife.  She's fucking dead to me now.  But it's a bad feeling, after almost 20 years with somebody you thought was your one true love, to have nobody to talk with about your day, to scratch your back, to kiss softly on the mouth, to hold when you're in bed and about to fall asleep, and to help raise my children.

I've got this giant bed.  I put a pillow between my knees and hold onto it with my arms.  I feel like a kid with his fucking binky.  It's a bad way to feel at 42.  When I'm not depressed, I'm pissed off.  That's not healthy either.

I took two Benadryl with my Trazadone tonight.  I'm hoping I can get more than a couple hours of sleep in a row.

I asked my daughter if it'll be weird for her when I start dating again.  She said she didn't think so.  She's full of shit and she knows it.  My aniversary is next month.  Good times.