The thing is… he didn’t physically abuse me. He didn’t drink or gamble or spend every weekend golfing or hunting or fishing. He didn’t cheat on me. At least I never had concrete proof that he cheated on me, unless I count his on-going affair with himself.
The thing is… he didn’t particularly like me. But then the world is populated with lots of married couples who don’t like each other.
The thing is… he didn’t embrace the whole having a baby thing. But lots of guys aren’t interested in going to doctor visits, listening to heart beats or shopping for onsies. I suppose, too, that lots of guys don’t want their wives to breast feed. Lots of guys don’t enjoy giving their babies a bath or reading to them every night.
The thing is… he didn’t listen to me when I told him I was frightened that our marriage was failing. But then I assumed that all guys hate the idea of going to counseling. When I cried and told him that I was lonely living in his house, and that I was afraid that he wasn’t connecting with me or the kids, he said I had problems.
He told me I was depressed, and that I needed to see someone. Continue reading →
“Clean up this mess! How can we expect to have people over if this is what this place looks like? Are we Pigs, here? Can’t we put some order to this place?”
The attorney 
It usually takes about 36 hours.
he’d quit insisting that it’s about wanting to see the kids more, and just admit that he wants to funnel less of his money in our direction.
Will’s genetic coding includes a large dose of pyrotechnics. He was interested in matches at an early age. Because I liked living with a roof over my head, I opted to teach him about matches when he first asked. I figure the more kids have their curious natures addressed, the more they’ll learn, and the less potential problems we’ll have. Better he learn about matches while I’m with him, than while he’s sneaking around by himself in the garage, surrounded by gas cans and lighter fluid.
I play mental tricks on myself. When we wake to nine inches of new snow and a temperature of 15 degrees, I tell myself, “Hey, we have lots of firewood, the furnace is working and the skiing will be great.” When our typically bright blue sky is overcast and gray for the second day in a row, I grouse a little and remind myself that I’m getting lots of chores done. When my kids complain about having to do lessons in the morning instead of riding their bikes or skateboarding, I remind them, “You know, you guys could be sitting in a desk at public school for seven hours.”
I’m looking out on the pond. The tall grasses framing the pond barely sway. The butterflies dance from the tips of the grasses and occasionally dip to skim the surface of the water. The pond is so calm it is difficult to discern where the grass meets its reflection. The quiet is heavy in a comforting, secure way. I feel safe and serene and untouchable.
Just received an email from a dear friend. Her youngest has gone off to college. She lives on the other side of the country, and yet I can feel how her life has shifted in a plate tectonics sort of way. I’d like to be camped at her house with cocktails, dinners, movies and whatever her favorite distractions may be. I know that the gesture would be appreciated, but that’s the last thing she would want right now.
