Back in December, I invited him to a comedy show near me that was happening in February. I was mildly surprised that he accepted. I was very surprised, pleasantly, that he at the same time invited me to a play near him in December. I spoke to my coach then and we agreed that my next goal would be to just try to increase the frequency with which we see each other, and to continue to keep it light, pleasant when we did.
I have, for months to years, been walking on eggshells, second guessing everything I say to him, being so careful not to give him a reason to avoid contact. We had dinner in December. Everything was going fine. HE brought up and stayed with the emotionally fraught issue of his coming career change. Partway through I asked a question that he didn’t like. Not light and pleasant like I was supposed to keep it – a heavy question – but the whole conversation was heavy. I couldn’t participate and keep it light. And he bit my head off. I’d touched a nerve, and he was angry. He thought I was inconsiderate and said that sometimes I just don’t think about how he will feel about the things I say.
I immediately teared up, first because I could just feel it all slipping away. As if all the cordiality built up over the past months could be shot to hell in a few words. I so wanted to just enjoy each other’s company for the evening and suddenly we were fighting. And I was mad because I was going to cry, in public, and there was no way I could hide it from him, when I had figured out years before I found my coach, that any expression of negative emotions on my part drove him away. But finally, I was just frustrated. How on earth could he think that I didn’t consider his feelings before I spoke when I’ve been this strange, un-spontaneous person, for YEARS now as I carefully choose my words and actions to be “solution focused”? I wasn’t guilty of being inconsiderate, I was guilty of not reading his mind! He talks to me only once every few weeks, sees me seven or eight times a year, and he’s angry that I don’t know that the answer to my question will be uncomfortable for him? I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE ANSWER TO THE QUESTION IS UNLESS HE TELLS ME.
Freakishly (fortunately?) I’m so in the habit of monitoring myself in his presence, that I didn’t even get to wanting to yell that at him until I was in the car alone, sobbing, on my drive home. In the moment, I fought back the tears, abruptly changed the subject to the food, and managed to play cheerful for the rest of the evening. He, of course, saw the tears well up in my eyes, heard my choked up voice, and he softened immediately. The rest of the evening was “pleasant,” the play was well-acted and funny, and when we said goodbye we hugged and he told me he’d had a good time. I reacted appropriately (laughing) to the play, even as I was holding back tears for the rest of the night. When we said goodbye, for the first time in this whole ordeal, I was glad to escape, to be done with my performance, to be free to cry and scream at the windshield of my car.
Something snapped in me that night. Something that snapped years ago that I had to climb out of when I decided to fight for my marriage instead of being resigned to its demise: I questioned what was left to go back to. Is this the relationship I have to look forward to IF I can reconcile it? I concede every point that we might otherwise fight about. I suppress my feelings to avoid giving offense. And he periodically lashes out at me for not trying hard enough, anyway?
My coach has asked me at the start of each of our conversations if I still want to save it – just giving me the choice, the chance to tell her what goals I want her to help me with. And she has asked if I’ve gotten to the point where I’ll be okay if he finally files – as if that is a goal I should be working toward, although it seems to me that if I decide I’m okay with letting the divorce go through, I won’t be DBing anymore and wouldn’t have much reason to call her. But I got to that place. I don’t have the fight anymore. If he files, he files, and I dunno what my life looks like next, but it might just happen, and I’m okay with that. Which is, of course, the sentiment on my part that got us in trouble in the first place.
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I haven’t acted differently toward him since. Maybe I’m just on autopilot, but I spoke to him in January and suggested another opportunity for us to get together in February. He responded, “don’t we already have plans in February?” which I took to mean he wants to limit contact to once a month, and I dropped back from the goal my coach and I had set to increase the frequency of our contact.
We got together in February, and the park where we were supposed to meet for a short hike first was closed due to storm damage – I hadn’t thought to check beyond knowing their seasonal hours. Then I couldn’t call him ‘cause I never use my cell phone and its battery was dead. And I made a couple of wrong turns finding the way to the event. This is a flaky side of me that always annoyed him, and I guess I haven’t really stopped caring how this all works out, ‘cause I worried about that. I worried, too, about whether he’d enjoy the show. Years ago, early in our relationship, I had talked him into seeing a movie that I really thought was just the funniest thing of all time, and he couldn’t sit through it he found it so awful. So we were going to see a comedienne whom I LOVE and I worried that he wouldn’t appreciate the jokes. He laughed more than I did, all through the show. Dinner was nice. We hadn’t seen each other since Christmas, so we exchanged some gifts. It was a delightful evening, and as we said goodbye in the frigid, windy parking lot, I had the sense that he wanted to prolong it, but I didn’t have a good idea of where to go next, and have bought in to the idea that it’s better to walk away from more pleasant times together than to risk overstaying my welcome.
I hate not knowing when I will see him again, so I emailed within the week and asked if I could buy him dinner for his birthday (yesterday), and suggested hiking around an island about an hour from his house and then either having dinner at a new place near there, or at a restaurant a little farther away that has happy associations for us. He promptly agreed to see me a mere two weeks after our February visit, and when the plans were firmed up, he emailed that he was looking forward to it.
Flaky the last time, I came this time with maps and directions and phone numbers and double-checks. He was going to be riding with me, so I cleaned the inside of the car. (We always fought about housework, and whereas I hate filth and he hates clutter, removing the filth in the car just made me feel more confident.) I arrived on time; he was running late and needed to eat before our hike, so he was preparing his typical master-chef-feast when I arrived. I hadn’t been in his apartment since last summer, and looking around at his books, his new possessions, his photographs and paintings on the walls made me miss having that presence of his in my home. His wedding band still – 22 months after he stopped wearing it – sits among the knick-knacks on his mantel.
We had a wonderful lunch. The drive to Peebles Island was easy and uneventful. The weather was warm and sunny, and we had a playful, catching-up conversation while walking basically every part of the three miles of trails. And then we had an amazing dinner, ending with this enormous piece of cake that we shared, and he actually ate his share, the first I’ve seen him indulge in sweets since being diagnosed with diabetes at about the same time as our marriage fell apart. He has lost so much fat on put on so much muscle that he’s actually having a hard time keeping his blood sugar high enough to be healthy in the past few months. He’s hot as hell and I so want to say that, but I know I just can’t.
After all the cake, he was saying he’d have to work out before bed, and so I drove him home as fast as I could hoping to beat closing time at the campus gym, but on the dark windy road I could only go so fast without overdriving my headlights. He got home 50 minutes before closing time and I ran into his apartment to use the restroom before my two hour drive home as quickly as I could, hoping not to interfere with his workout plans. It was late, though, and he yawned and announced he was just going to go to sleep. I still kind of rushed out the door – it was like the end of the night in February – I didn’t have anything else to suggest and didn’t want to overstay my welcome. He stood in the door, framed by the hallway light behind him, and was still watching when I turned out at end of his long driveway. It’s an image permanently etched in my brain now – I wish I could read his mind. It would hurt my feelings if I could, I know, but what I wouldn’t give just to have a clue what he’s thinking. How many more years will I do this?
M: 43 H: 44 M: 12.5 if the 5.5 year separation counts Bomb (I dropped it): Dec '07 H said finit: Jun '10 I moved on: May '13
Wow GJ, what an incredible post/story/sitch you have shared with us, thank you. I have mostly been in the newcomers forum and have been seperated for 8 months which feels like a long time.
I can't imagine the strength you have to continue to Db after all this time, it is inspiring.
Hi, sayitaintso - thanks for reading my post. I don't find my situation very inspiring, but I guess if my marriage is reconciled after all this time, that would make a pretty great story. I think your marriage being reconciled before the ninth month would actually be a better story.
Best wishes to you and your wife.
M: 43 H: 44 M: 12.5 if the 5.5 year separation counts Bomb (I dropped it): Dec '07 H said finit: Jun '10 I moved on: May '13
Well I find your strength and unconditional love to be very inspiring. I would venture to guess that most people would give up long before the time you have given and in many cases I believe they would give up because of fear or lack of conviction.
Be proud of your values that you are putting to the test on a daily basis.
And FWIW, my M is far from R and is progressing towards divorce.
Keep posting if it helps and know that people like me appreciate it.
Oh no! I just started reading on the forum and the comment regarding "wishing there were more happy endings" makes me feel as if continuing to read will be a big disappointment. My first divorce hearing was today. I just feel broken!
