At end of 30 yr relationship. Too much detail to even consider writing here. I wish I could.
Didn't have children, I'm fine with that, but only in the last 10 yrs did I realise he would never want to share fully. No marriage, no shared home. I think I did want that, at least. There was always this idea of us being inseparable, sticking together, but on his terms. Of course I grew older and discovered this is bullshit.
I am in a decent place mentally, although had a rough few years. Since 2018 this has been slowly decaying, we are so many miles apart and haven't even had sex for 7 years. He wouldn't have a vasectomy but claimed he couldn't wear condoms. Not only that, but as the years go by he never shares things or talks anymore, if you push him, it's bad news, he becomes upset. We can flow along well if I don't care, but this just isn't good enough for me now. We are like old friends, family even, but not remotely like lovers.
The difficult part - I live with him in his home. It is a mess and he won't alter or change it. This isn't at all how I want to live, but for the time being, I am here. When I leave I will be renting, which I am fine with. I wfh so can deal with that.
But this past few years has been like a drain on my soul, I have gone through a lot of personal, inner work and am doing fine, head above water, quite aware and keeping myself sane. However, I am soon to leave. He is aware of that and although he won't talk of it, there is an understanding that it is done. Unfortunately because he doesn't discuss his deep feelings, I am not aware how 'over' me he is. Sometimes I feel contempt from him, just a day to day contempt that can leave me cold. But he won't say it's over, or talk about moving on. So I have had to decide this for myself and get ready.
I am ready, but recently I thought of what I might feel if I met another man, not now, but eventually, and it left me puzzled. It felt as if I would be betraying him, as if I was letting 'us' down.
Is this normal at the end of a long term thing?
I love the idea of moving on and getting a life, of communicating with people outside of this hermetic little shell I have been living in. Why does it feel bad? I long to be free and building an actual life, possibly with a view to sharing it with people, but this guilty, odd feeling remains.
Please tell me this will go.