for original, see commented parts in html view; edited 3/21/14

My darling,

I have something very difficult to share with you, and have been having a hard time finding the right time to do it. Since it's very important to me that I share these feelings and concerns accurately, I decided to write you this letter, to help me ensure that I express what is on my heart and to give you the chance to read it over again if you need to, to glean what you need from it.

I want to start off by telling you how much I love you.  As you read this, it is really important for me that you keep in mind that nothing I'm sharing represents the slightest diminishment of my love for and commitment to you. But I think that I haven't been giving us both the best chance to act in the interest of our mutual happiness, and that's probably been true for a very long time.

Because I have been unhappy and frustrated with our relationship for a very long time.

For the longest time, probably for the first 15 years after I abused Christina, I felt as if I didn't really deserve to be happy, that I should just be grateful: that you still love me and stayed with me, that you gave me the chance to heal and stood by me despite all that I put you and our family through.  I concluded that I should just dedicate myself to loving you regardless of how I might feel. And actually, I still think that most everything in this paragraph so far - everything after the idea that I don't deserve to be happy - is true. I still feel a deep and committed love for you, that runs far deeper than my passing or longer-term emotions.  I am very grateful for your love.

And I know that the last thing in the world you want is for me to be unhappy.

I'm sorry that I have let it become a very long time without expressing myself more plainly, though I feel as if I've tried numerous time over the years to make you aware of some of my frustrations, to little - or only temporary - avail. I'm going to mention a specific area that has been bothering me, but may seem like a minor thing, and you should know that my frustration with us is far deeper than I can convey.

I've been concerned about how much our interests and our motivations take us in very different directions, and I don't always feel as if we're both doing all we can to make our life together better. The way we spend our evenings has been a problem for me, and when I've tried to talk about this with you, I feel as if you've dismissed my concerns.  I believe that time together with you is a true need - for me, at least - to nurture our relationship and grow together.  "You know that I'm addicted to the television," is not a resolution of our conflicting interests; it implies that putting up with this forever is just the cost of loving you for who you are, but more significantly, that you consider this so much a part of who you are that you aren't willing to consider making changes in this area.  That is certainly your right, but it has a negative effect on our relationship that I'm not sure I've managed to convey.  It isn't that I want you to change who you are and what you're interested in, and I never want you to resent time you're spending with me because it's taking you away from what you'd rather be doing.  I also don't want to spend my life separate from you while you indulge your interest in three hours of television programming every. single. night.  I want us to spend more of our lives together, so that they become "our life together" rather than "our lives."  I know that our interests are very different, but over three-plus decades I know we have built more common ground than what we've been living on.  If this is an area that's sacrosanct to you, then I will live with it - for the rest of our lives, even - but I'll never be happy about it.

I should probably share a specific example of when this has been a particularly acute issue for me, so it doesn't just seem as if I'm complaining in general. The day Linda's group was let go from work was really hard for me. I really would have appreciated your company when I got home after a capella choir rehearsal, but you and Melissa were watching The Bachelor together.  You know how that show bothers me, and I wasn't willing to put up with it, but also felt as if I'd be interfering with your wishes for the evening if tried to drag you away from it. Instead of doing either, I chose (yes, I know it was my choice) to lament (again) that you'd rather watch programs you know I hate than spend time with me in the evening.

It may seem as if I'm blaming you for my unhappiness. I don't intend to do that; I know that I'm responsible for my own emotional state. And I'm the one who has let myself be unhappy for most of the last 15 years without giving you the chance for us to work together on being a happy, fulfilled couple.  I'm sure we've developed some habits of relating to each other that we're going to need to learn to let go of.  There are things I've learned about myself that I haven't shared with you fully, because your sense of security has been more important to me than sharing myself fully with you. I want to give you the chance to love me more completely, to love all of me - without indulging me in ways that are unhealthy for us - just as I am trying to do for you.

I think it's likely that we'll need a few sessions with a good marriage counselor to get us there.

Because of where that last sentence falls in this rather long letter, you may think it isn't very central, when it's really the main reason for the whole letter.  I think that this is going to be an important part of our journey forward together.  I know it is a scary prospect, so I'm asking: are you willing to do that with me?

Okay, I think I've said what I need to. I also think it's important to reemphasize some things here at the end.  I love you deeply.  I'm glad to be your husband, and I am committed to loving you for the rest of our lives.  I don't "want out," and there isn't anyone else I wish there was some way for me to be with instead of you.  I just want us both to be happy and fulfilled in our relationship, and it's important to me that you know that I have not been.

Yet I remain yours, forever,