Tonight my husband comes home from work. Normal seems to be the call of the evening.
And then I asked if he had a counseling session this week. “Yes, can we talk?”
Any married person knows ‘Can we talk?’ is always serious. I cocked a quizzical brow and said, ‘Sure.’ Now what?
He wanted to know if I was serious about making this work. Are you kidding me? Has he heard a single word I’ve said in the last I don’t know six years?
Am I serious? No, I just thought I’d mess with you before I dumped you. You know how it is.
Insert string of curses so heated it would melt the keyboard to type them. He then goes on to say he feels betray. Okay, I kinda get that-just barely.
Did you think that I would suck it up and take whatever you wanted to dish out or withhold forever? Really?
I’m the abandon one and you want to know my level of commitment? My promise not to bash is standing on a razors edge and listing dangerously to port.
I think he wanted a promise I’d never leave. Sorry buddy. My commitment isn’t in question. My ability to cope with the situation is. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? Or are you looking for a loop-hole you can wiggle through so you can stop working and settle into your mud hole.
I point out the obvious and this is a betrayal? A betrayal of what? Your denial? GAH!!!!!!!
At this point he launches into a long whine about all of his physical ailments. Blank stare. The ‘I’m sick and can’t be held culpable’ card is gone, long since decomposed and returned to the dust from whenst it came. In my head I’m thinking, ‘READ MY LIPS, I–Don’t–Care. I–Can’t–Fix–It.”
He then goes on a jag about how he feels. Again, I–CAN’T–FIX–IT! I’m so sick of listening to you whine about the state of YOUR life I want to scream. Stop whining. Do something. Anything. Just stop whining.
Oh, and he’s upset because I, gasp, spoke with the children about it. Does this man know or understand me at–all? He then instructs me not to tell anyone. Oh right, cuz I’ve always kept secrets for you. NOT!
God knows it’s all about YOU, and how YOU feel. SCREAM! I can’t imagine why we’re in such a mess.