Deceit

I have no doubt that anyone who has read my blog over the last few months will find this post repetitive, but part of the raison d'etre of my being in blogland at all is to have a place where I can express how I feel, so, with apologies, I'm going to do just that.
I'm struggling again because I feel that, at least in part, that I'm living a lie. This is particularly the case in terms of my relationship with my wife. I've said before on several occasions that I genuinely love her, and I still maintain that's true, but, certainly in terms of a physical relationship, I have serious doubts if it's what I want any more. If I was single at present, I'm sure I wouldn't be looking for another woman. What I really do want is unobtainable, and I've more or less accepted that, although I haven't given up all hope of finding myself where I want to be by some fluke or other. What I am finding increasingly difficult is having to pretend I'm something I'm not on a day to day basis - I haven't told any direct lies about this, but my policy of selective truth is becoming less tenable and palatable to myself as time goes on. It's making me feel deceitful, and while I realise that people tell each other 'white lies' more or less all the time to make sociable living possible, being less than truthful about such a fundamental part of who and what I am is becoming depressing.
It seems that, not for the first time in my life, I've contrived to 'paint myself into a corner' - if I come out, I put my family as well as myself into the firing line, if I don't, I'm apparently sentenced to increasing unhappiness. I wish I could see any hope of some sort of solution, but there doesn't seem to be one without oceans of pain for those that I care about.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B