Passion or the lack of it
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Last night Charles and I watched The Vicar of Dilby. During one episode Charles sat on the floor with his head resting against my knee. How often I've wanted that. I don't mean him being on the floor. Just the silent affection.
He was feeling very vulnerable. Weighing heavily on both of us is my telling him that our relationship hasn't given me enough. That once I have the money I may very well leave him. When he is loving and vulnerable like that the terrible havoc it will wreak in his life if I go strikes me hard.
But I need to protect myself. I'm not young. With each passing day my chances to get what I want out of life lessens.
Charles has done many terrible and foolish things. I've paid for them, forgiven them.
But I can't forgive a lack of romance and passion. With full acknowledgement of the practical parts of the lives of two people living together without passion the rest of the relationship becomes trivial.
Charles' can't be faulted. I said come and live with me and he said "Okay." That I didn't get more is my own fault for not having taken more time and care to ensure that I would.