I had a dream last night that I didn’t want to wake up from. I was starting over with another man. We healed together from similar pains and it was a beautiful fiction. I wrestle with it. Intimacy wasn’t painful in my dream—all of my problems vanished and I was just a normal lover, free and passionate. I don’t know if that kind of love is real or some twisted ideal that can never be reached. One that is meant to torment me. Joe’s therapist says that we should pay attention to our fantasies because they show us what needs we have that aren’t being met. What does mine reveal?

Normally, I’d ignore this and just try to forget it, but I’m here trying to find a hidden meaning. Do I desire to start over? Maybe. Am I worried that I chose poorly? Maybe. Am I terrified? Yes. Do I need someone who understands? Certainly. But I have no idea what to do about it.

I wish that dream had never ended. I’m so tired of his struggle and sin and addiction. It is ever present—all consuming. I have to tell myself constantly, “Love is a choice we choose to make daily.” I don’t want to love him. I don’t want to be tied to his lifelong addiction. I am so hopelessly trapped and it weighs on me. Some days, I wish he’d just cheat on me with another person, so I can leave. Some days, I believe that he can conquer porn, that he can change our lives.

I’m so scared. I’m so scared to love him. It has hurt me so deeply in the past. I try to trust him, but I can’t. Because, tomorrow, he could be in his sin again. Or in a year or five. It’s always there in the back of my head that I might have to leave one day. There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m helpless. Alone. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I don’t know how to heal. I don’t know how to lower the walls around my heart and I’m too scared to do it even if I knew how. God, I’m not strong enough for this. I’m only one person. Barely a woman at twenty-three years old.

So maybe the dream is showing me that I need to feel cherished and put first. Maybe I need to put God before Joe and trust Him to meet that need of mine. Because Joe can only fail me. Humans can only fail me. Marrying this man has been the most difficult thing in my life, but I do love him. In a way I hate myself for. I love him despite how he hurts me—despite how he breaks my heart at unexpected intervals, leaving me in a constant state of nerves and wondering.

If we weren’t married, and he was in this sin, I would leave. But I can’t. I vowed things I’m not yet ready to break. Because I meant them. And I believe that the person I married—chose to marry—is still in there.

I do feel deceived, tricked, though I don’t think he meant to fool me. I think his strength to resist failed. Something I continue to suffer for. I thought three years sober was long enough to trust, but it wasn’t. My gamble broke me.

I’m married to a sex addict who doesn’t want me and hasn’t gone quite far enough for me to leave him yet. How do I fix that? Why should I?

Joe is a sex addict. I can’t change him or my circumstance. I won’t abandon him until he stops getting help or sleeps with another person. Until then, I will fight for our marriage and our love. I will resist my own fictions and temptations. I will do everything I can to help this marriage and maybe one day I’ll wake up to find the dream has become my reality with Joe. Muscles need to break down to become stronger. Maybe it’s the same with marriage.