I've given in to the pressure.

I want a divorce more than anything. I asked for a divorce in January.

For three months I've been bombarded with texts and scriptures and statistics from my parents and his about how I should stay.

How I'll destroy the children's lives if I leave.

They know about the verbal abuse. They know I don't love him. But it doesn't matter.

So I give up.

I'll stay. I'll find happiness in hobbies and friends. I'll get emotional connection from my therpist. I'll even try a sex toy for sexual satisfaction.

But I'm not going to have sex with him.

The mere thought makes me want to throw up.

I can only hope that he cheats on me or gets hit by an asteroid (just kidding).

Welcome to a forever dead bedroom.