**Friday, 12th April**
Four years married, four years carrying the weight of this man.
I’m 32, living in Manchester, and for four years I’ve been the sole provider in this so-called marriage. My husband, Richard, is eight years older, and I’ve had enough of his excuses. Today, I finally asked him to contribute—not that it did any good. Instead of stepping up, he snapped, accused me of nagging, and threatened to leave. Again. My life feels like some wretched soap opera, and I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.
We’ve been married four years, yet I’ve never once felt protected or truly loved. Richard was divorced when we met, with a daughter from his first marriage. Back then, he spun this tale about crashing at his mate’s place whenever we were together—turns out he was actually living with his parents. I ignored the red flags, thinking love would smooth things over. He works as a sales manager for a big firm, claims it’s nothing but stress, and takes it all out on me. No kindness, no support—just shouting matches and storming off.
When things get tough for *me*? He packs a bag and bolts to his mum’s. Last time, I cracked after a week and begged him to come back. Pathetic, I know. We live in *my* flat—the one I bought before we even met—and I cover everything: bills, food, even his damn train fares. He swears he’s saving for “our dream,” a cottage in the Lake District, where we’ll supposedly live happily ever after. But I’ve yet to see a single penny of his so-called savings. Just empty promises, while I foot the lot.
This winter, when the heating bill shot up, I finally asked him to chip in. He said he would—then nothing. A month later, still nothing. I’d had enough. Last night, I cornered him: *Were you ever going to pay your share?* He flew into a rage, called me ungrateful, and started shoving clothes into a suitcase, threatening to walk out. Again.
What did I do to deserve this? I’m exhausted. Four years of carrying him, and all I get is blame. Every time he leaves, every time he comes back, it chips away at me. How much longer can I keep pretending this is a marriage?
**Lesson learned:** Love doesn’t pay the bills. And some men will bleed you dry if you let them.
