I've made my bed . .

So, I let him back into the house. I let him back into my bed (no sex). Apparently, it was the wrong decision.

I let him back in for financial reasons. I let him back in for my children. I was terrified that when he came back, he would fall into old habits. Sadly, I was right.

For the first couple of days he was perfect. Saturday was perfect. We had our son's sleepover for his birthday. He was wonderful while I had a headache. He took care of the boys.

Saturday night I got upset because he was not making the boys go to sleep. He would go in softly and tell them to go to sleep. This is not effective with 10 year old boys. I got mad.

I was texting my friends last night and playing games on my phone.

The details do not matter. The bottom line is this.

I let him move in for my kids. To make them happy. They heard him crying last night. Loudly, again. And because I was telling him to shut up because the kids were sleeping, I'm cold hearted. They saw his clothes all over the place this morning and were sad.

I don't think I'm cold hearted. I think my heart is dead.

Because now I know what I have to do. Because I let him in to make them happy, I have to let myself and my happiness go. I want them to be happy. That is all that matters to me.

So, I made my bed. I will lie in it.