A girl I was sort of dating introduced me to her.
It was kind of a weird situation. I was quasi-dating this girl - we weren't really in a relationship, she was odd, I wasn't looking for a relationship and...she was odd - and I was transferring to the college that Odd Girl was attending. (Wasn't going there to be near her - was going there because it was a state university, they accepted me and it was affordable.) I had to attend an orientation at the school and Odd Girl said "Well, you can't stay with me, but I have a friend you can stay with. You might like her better anyway."
Like I said. She was odd. But she also ended up being right.
Anyway, after she assured me that the friend was okay with it, I agreed. I had no money for a hotel, it was for just one night and I figured that one night with her sorority sister wouldn't be the worst place in the world to stay.
Um, yeah.
When Odd Girl introduced me to her friend/my host/future wife, I was more than pleasantly surprised. I wouldn't have put it past Odd Girl to house me with some sort of mutant, but she'd done exactly the opposite. She'd arranged for me to stay the night with an amazingly beautiful, intelligent, funny girl. She seemed immediately at ease with me spending the night on her sofa and any unease I had at causing her any unease was immediately erased.
We clicked.
We stayed up most of the night talking. She told me about her family. I told her about mine. We talked about movies. We talked about the school. We talked about a lot of things and it was easy. I remember at some point in the conversation she told me that she wasn't dating anyone and I was immediately relieved without really recognizing why. Nothing happened that night - I had no game and I wouldn't have tried anything with a girl who was nice enough to host her odd friend's not-really-boyfriend for an evening - but I remember thinking that I really, really liked this girl.
She made me breakfast the next morning - bacon and eggs - and I was purposely late to the orientation because I didn't want to say goodbye. She told me to call her when the quarter started if I needed any help or had any questions or whatever.
I went home after the orientation and my best friend asked me about the trip and all I could talk about was the girl I stayed with. He was pretty surprised because I'd been adamant about not wanting a relationship and the way I was talking about her, I wasn't talking about some hot chick I just wanted to hook up with.
She was different.
(Note: I was not relationship-phobic in my early twenties. But I'd ended a long three yr relationship about six months earlier and it ended badly and I wasn't looking for that kind of entanglement again any time soon.)
A few weeks later, I moved into the place I was going to live at the university. (Odd Girl and I were done - a product of her oddness and me being interested in her friend.) It took me a few days, but I finally called her. Which was very unlike me. It was more likely that I would've thought about calling her and then just not done it for any number of stupid reasons - I was a male in my early twenties and following through on things wasn't my strong point. But I couldn't shake her and after a few false starts of picking up the phone and not having the guts to dial the number, I finally did it.
And she was happy to hear from me and I asked her out and she said yes.
And about a month and a half later, we were standing on the beach and I told her I loved her. She said she loved me, too.
I just wanted to tell that story.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
And The Irrational Returns...
At the Big Important Job today, my wife has a Big Important Meeting. She's unavailable all day, save for an email or text once in awhile.
And over the course of the last hour, I have been beset by Bad Thoughts. Can't shake them, almost sick to my stomach.
I know none of it is true and that for some reason, the irrational part of my brain is working overtime, but the Bad Thoughts are just hammering away at me.
Fuck, I hate this.
And over the course of the last hour, I have been beset by Bad Thoughts. Can't shake them, almost sick to my stomach.
I know none of it is true and that for some reason, the irrational part of my brain is working overtime, but the Bad Thoughts are just hammering away at me.
Fuck, I hate this.
Being The Strong One
My wife crashed and burned over the weekend.
The week finally caught up to her. After dealing with the stress and suspicion of the email from last weekend, she was on edge every morning walking into work. It took a toll. And then taking Friday afternoon off to be by herself and do some thinking, I think her emotions just finally got the better of her. When she came home Friday night, she was quiet and a little withdrawn and I'm not sure how but I knew it wasn't about me. I didn't press the issue.
Saturday morning, she was the same way and it was frustrating for her. I recognized it, though, because she was feeling the same way I'd felt right after getting the email. Frustrated, angry, sad, lost, guilty, hopeless, a kind of ugly fog settling in to make everything seem less bright. I wasn't sure if I was making it better or worse by tiptoeing around her in the house, so I offered to leave and get out for awhile. It wasn't a woe is me kind of thing - I just didn't want her to have to worry about me if she needed time to be by herself.
But she told me not to leave. She said she just needed to cry. And she wanted me to hold her.
So we laid on the bed for an hour or so and I held her and she cried. Sobbed, really. I didn't ask any questions, didn't talk, just laid there with her. I've known her nearly twenty years and I can't ever recall her crying that way. It was hard to watch - my instinct as a male was to want to help, to fix, to make it better - but I knew she just needed to cry and she didn't need me to interrupt that. At one point, she said she'd been strong all week and she just didn't feel like being the strong one anymore. She needed me to be the strong one. And for what felt like the first time in a really long, long time, I was able to be the strong one.
I got her through the weekend. I made her laugh. I hugged her. I told her it was going to be alright. We went out to see a movie. We spent some time outside. We didn't talk much, but we spent a lot of time physically close to one another. She needed someone to hang onto and I was happy to be that someone.
She was better yesterday morning and better today before she left for work. I feel better because she feels better. I feel stronger because she feels stronger.
It wasn't the weekend I'd been hoping for, but the optimist sitting on my shoulder is whispering in my ear that down the road, we may point to this past weekend as a really solid step forward.
The week finally caught up to her. After dealing with the stress and suspicion of the email from last weekend, she was on edge every morning walking into work. It took a toll. And then taking Friday afternoon off to be by herself and do some thinking, I think her emotions just finally got the better of her. When she came home Friday night, she was quiet and a little withdrawn and I'm not sure how but I knew it wasn't about me. I didn't press the issue.
Saturday morning, she was the same way and it was frustrating for her. I recognized it, though, because she was feeling the same way I'd felt right after getting the email. Frustrated, angry, sad, lost, guilty, hopeless, a kind of ugly fog settling in to make everything seem less bright. I wasn't sure if I was making it better or worse by tiptoeing around her in the house, so I offered to leave and get out for awhile. It wasn't a woe is me kind of thing - I just didn't want her to have to worry about me if she needed time to be by herself.
But she told me not to leave. She said she just needed to cry. And she wanted me to hold her.
So we laid on the bed for an hour or so and I held her and she cried. Sobbed, really. I didn't ask any questions, didn't talk, just laid there with her. I've known her nearly twenty years and I can't ever recall her crying that way. It was hard to watch - my instinct as a male was to want to help, to fix, to make it better - but I knew she just needed to cry and she didn't need me to interrupt that. At one point, she said she'd been strong all week and she just didn't feel like being the strong one anymore. She needed me to be the strong one. And for what felt like the first time in a really long, long time, I was able to be the strong one.
I got her through the weekend. I made her laugh. I hugged her. I told her it was going to be alright. We went out to see a movie. We spent some time outside. We didn't talk much, but we spent a lot of time physically close to one another. She needed someone to hang onto and I was happy to be that someone.
She was better yesterday morning and better today before she left for work. I feel better because she feels better. I feel stronger because she feels stronger.
It wasn't the weekend I'd been hoping for, but the optimist sitting on my shoulder is whispering in my ear that down the road, we may point to this past weekend as a really solid step forward.
Friday, March 6, 2009
The Significance Of A Lawn Mower
We live in a fairly affluent, snooty little suburb with big tract homes on small pieces of land and nearly everyone uses a lawn service. Spring time rolls in and so do the lawn crews, mowing, edging and blowing on a daily basis until we hit winter again near the end of the year. It is an absolute luxury and one that I resisted for while until two years ago when I realized:
1. I hated mowing the lawn. Seriously hated it.
2. I did a particularly crappy job of mowing the lawn. Probably because I hated it.
So I finally caved and hired a lawn service and my wife came home the night after their first day of service, took a look at the lawn and this conversation ensued:
Her: Wow, the lawn looks great.
Me: Yeah, it does.
Her (after a long pause): You hired a lawn service, didn't you?
It was like night and day. We both liked the way it looked and at that moment, we were willing to part with the amount of money it cost to keep the lawn looking like everyone else's. I knew she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement - she is frugal to the core and the idea of paying someone to cut the grass when I was certainly capable of doing it myself didn't sit all that well with her - but she also knew how much I despised the job, so at the time, I guess she was willing to overlook it.
I say I guess because we never really talked about it. We talked around it, but not about it, which could be said about MANY things in our relationship over the last few years.
Then last year we had a garage sale and we sold our lawn mower. I was happy to see it go - I'd had it for nearly ten years and I had settled in to having our yard look awesome - but she was not. She was irritated and grumpy for days about it, making the occasional dig about how she couldn't believe we'd gotten rid of it. I ignored the digs and again - we didn't talk about it.
And the not talking about it started bubbling over last fall. She was pissed every week when the charge came through for the service. I was pissed at her for not understanding how much I hated mowing the lawn.
(Time out - I don't hate mowing the lawn because I'm lazy - I hate it because my allergies flare, because the structure of our yard - actually every yard we've ever had to maintain - makes it far more difficult to mow than your average yard, because I inevitably get stung and bit by multitudes of insects and because in the nearly thirteen years that we've owned property together, I'm the only that has ever done it. So while I can be lazy, this wasn't about laziness. Back to our story...)
And again - we didn't talk about it.
At the end of the season, she was adamant that we weren't hiring anyone this year and I was just as adamant that I wasn't going to do it.
Do you see what I'm getting at?
We just stopped communicating. Talked around things, rather than about them. Talked at one another, rather than with one another. Selling that lawn mower was a signal to her that I just didn't understand her anymore, that I didn't give a shit about spending money, that I didn't get the pressure she felt as the sole salary earner in our family and that I didn't get that my not mowing the lawn felt to her like I just didn't care about our home or our family.
I didn't see that then, but I see it now.
The lawn service was due to start next week. I canceled it last week, confirmed the cancellation yesterday. She was pretty surprised and then expressed concern about my allergies.
It was nice to hear, but I've got medication.
And I bought a used lawn mower for $60 this morning.
I guess it's the little things.
1. I hated mowing the lawn. Seriously hated it.
2. I did a particularly crappy job of mowing the lawn. Probably because I hated it.
So I finally caved and hired a lawn service and my wife came home the night after their first day of service, took a look at the lawn and this conversation ensued:
Her: Wow, the lawn looks great.
Me: Yeah, it does.
Her (after a long pause): You hired a lawn service, didn't you?
It was like night and day. We both liked the way it looked and at that moment, we were willing to part with the amount of money it cost to keep the lawn looking like everyone else's. I knew she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement - she is frugal to the core and the idea of paying someone to cut the grass when I was certainly capable of doing it myself didn't sit all that well with her - but she also knew how much I despised the job, so at the time, I guess she was willing to overlook it.
I say I guess because we never really talked about it. We talked around it, but not about it, which could be said about MANY things in our relationship over the last few years.
Then last year we had a garage sale and we sold our lawn mower. I was happy to see it go - I'd had it for nearly ten years and I had settled in to having our yard look awesome - but she was not. She was irritated and grumpy for days about it, making the occasional dig about how she couldn't believe we'd gotten rid of it. I ignored the digs and again - we didn't talk about it.
And the not talking about it started bubbling over last fall. She was pissed every week when the charge came through for the service. I was pissed at her for not understanding how much I hated mowing the lawn.
(Time out - I don't hate mowing the lawn because I'm lazy - I hate it because my allergies flare, because the structure of our yard - actually every yard we've ever had to maintain - makes it far more difficult to mow than your average yard, because I inevitably get stung and bit by multitudes of insects and because in the nearly thirteen years that we've owned property together, I'm the only that has ever done it. So while I can be lazy, this wasn't about laziness. Back to our story...)
And again - we didn't talk about it.
At the end of the season, she was adamant that we weren't hiring anyone this year and I was just as adamant that I wasn't going to do it.
Do you see what I'm getting at?
We just stopped communicating. Talked around things, rather than about them. Talked at one another, rather than with one another. Selling that lawn mower was a signal to her that I just didn't understand her anymore, that I didn't give a shit about spending money, that I didn't get the pressure she felt as the sole salary earner in our family and that I didn't get that my not mowing the lawn felt to her like I just didn't care about our home or our family.
I didn't see that then, but I see it now.
The lawn service was due to start next week. I canceled it last week, confirmed the cancellation yesterday. She was pretty surprised and then expressed concern about my allergies.
It was nice to hear, but I've got medication.
And I bought a used lawn mower for $60 this morning.
I guess it's the little things.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Almost Blowing It
(Please excuse the mess that has become this blog. I somehow screwed up the template for this blog and lost everything that I'd put together and I'm trying to figure out how to put it together. The fine folks at Blogger do not seem interested at all in helping me out...)
(UPDATE: I fixed it! I fixed it! Okay, everyone settle down...)
So I almost screwed up today.
One of the things that my wife has continually told me since all of this has unfolded is that she needs time to herself - time to get her head straight, time to remember who she is and time to just chill out. She works an inordinate number of hours at the Big Important Job and then she comes home to me and The Child and there ends up being very little time for herself.
That's been a hard thing for me to get my head around because all I want is time with her. And any time that she wants to spend without me feels like a rejection. I know that isn't really the case, but that's what it feels like and it's something that I haven't dealt well with. I've been trying and the progress has been...slow. Which sucks for both of us because it's become a source of tension - she dreads asking me for an hour to herself and I dread that hour.
It's gotten better. Our counselor was able to point some things out to me that made a lot of sense and last week, it felt much easier. It wasn't a physical drag to give her some space. And the counselor also pointed out to me yesterday that anything that I'm able to do in that regard is helping rebuild the trust and the bond.
So I thought I had it covered.
But my wife called me this morning and asked if I minded if she took off part of the day tomorrow to spend some time by herself.
It caught me off-guard and all of my initial reactions were wrong. I completely regressed. I was suspicious. (Friday happens to be a day that The Assface tends to leave the office early.) I was hurt. (I'd been asking for her to cut back on her hours, to spend more time at home.) I was a little angry. (Why doesn't she wanna spend time with me? And I expressed all of those things in a matter of minutes.
She immediately started backpedaling, telling me never mind, it wasn't a big deal. But she was upset and couldn't hide it and irritated with me because I wasn't putting it all in context.
And I wasn't.
I forgot that we had a really good day yesterday.
I forgot that she said something incredibly nice and meaningful to me this morning.
I forgot that she grabbed my butt this morning on the way out the door. (Sounds insignificant? Trust me - it was HUGE. The act, I mean, not my butt. It sent me sky high.)
I forgot that Friday afternoons are by far the easiest time for her to clear her desk and get out of the office for a few hours.
I forgot that I've started to trust her again and that she's given me no reason to not trust her.
I immediately started telling her that I was sorry, that I was being an idiot, that if that's what she needed, then that's what I wanted her to do. She was still irritated with me and had to get ready for a call and we cut our conversation short.
Fortunately, we had already planned to have lunch. So I got my shit together, didn't let it fester and when I saw her for lunch, explained exactly why I lost it for about five minutes. Explained why I knew I was wrong and explained why I really, really wanted her to take the time for herself. I think she was skeptical at first - I think she was also worried that I would work myself up into a frenzy tomorrow while she was out and she sure as hell didn't wanna come home to that - but I think she finally saw that I was genuinely serious. We both agreed that I'd been a bit of jackass - my word, not hers - and then we were able to laugh about it while we had lunch.
So I think she's gonna take the afternoon off and spend a couple of hours by herself at a place outdoors tomorrow - nice weather here and there is little that improves her mood more than sunshine. And I want her to and I'm okay with it. Really.
Put up or shut up, right?
(UPDATE: I fixed it! I fixed it! Okay, everyone settle down...)
So I almost screwed up today.
One of the things that my wife has continually told me since all of this has unfolded is that she needs time to herself - time to get her head straight, time to remember who she is and time to just chill out. She works an inordinate number of hours at the Big Important Job and then she comes home to me and The Child and there ends up being very little time for herself.
That's been a hard thing for me to get my head around because all I want is time with her. And any time that she wants to spend without me feels like a rejection. I know that isn't really the case, but that's what it feels like and it's something that I haven't dealt well with. I've been trying and the progress has been...slow. Which sucks for both of us because it's become a source of tension - she dreads asking me for an hour to herself and I dread that hour.
It's gotten better. Our counselor was able to point some things out to me that made a lot of sense and last week, it felt much easier. It wasn't a physical drag to give her some space. And the counselor also pointed out to me yesterday that anything that I'm able to do in that regard is helping rebuild the trust and the bond.
So I thought I had it covered.
But my wife called me this morning and asked if I minded if she took off part of the day tomorrow to spend some time by herself.
It caught me off-guard and all of my initial reactions were wrong. I completely regressed. I was suspicious. (Friday happens to be a day that The Assface tends to leave the office early.) I was hurt. (I'd been asking for her to cut back on her hours, to spend more time at home.) I was a little angry. (Why doesn't she wanna spend time with me? And I expressed all of those things in a matter of minutes.
She immediately started backpedaling, telling me never mind, it wasn't a big deal. But she was upset and couldn't hide it and irritated with me because I wasn't putting it all in context.
And I wasn't.
I forgot that we had a really good day yesterday.
I forgot that she said something incredibly nice and meaningful to me this morning.
I forgot that she grabbed my butt this morning on the way out the door. (Sounds insignificant? Trust me - it was HUGE. The act, I mean, not my butt. It sent me sky high.)
I forgot that Friday afternoons are by far the easiest time for her to clear her desk and get out of the office for a few hours.
I forgot that I've started to trust her again and that she's given me no reason to not trust her.
I immediately started telling her that I was sorry, that I was being an idiot, that if that's what she needed, then that's what I wanted her to do. She was still irritated with me and had to get ready for a call and we cut our conversation short.
Fortunately, we had already planned to have lunch. So I got my shit together, didn't let it fester and when I saw her for lunch, explained exactly why I lost it for about five minutes. Explained why I knew I was wrong and explained why I really, really wanted her to take the time for herself. I think she was skeptical at first - I think she was also worried that I would work myself up into a frenzy tomorrow while she was out and she sure as hell didn't wanna come home to that - but I think she finally saw that I was genuinely serious. We both agreed that I'd been a bit of jackass - my word, not hers - and then we were able to laugh about it while we had lunch.
So I think she's gonna take the afternoon off and spend a couple of hours by herself at a place outdoors tomorrow - nice weather here and there is little that improves her mood more than sunshine. And I want her to and I'm okay with it. Really.
Put up or shut up, right?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
A Good Day
I'm having a good day after a good session with our counselor this morning. So I'm staying out of my own way this afternoon and refraining from over-thinking anything.
I'm also trying to figure out how I screwed up the template to the blog and how to get it back.
I'm also trying to figure out how I screwed up the template to the blog and how to get it back.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
The Answers To Your Questions
I think there are a few questions that probably need to be answered.
Is this all real or are you making it up for the attention?
If I wanted attention, I could dance down my street naked, singing Beyonce songs. No, this is not for attention. I needed an outlet to talk about the situation, but not one in which people knew me. Friends tend to take sides and make judgments and that's not what I'm looking for. I just want to get the thoughts out of my head. The entire thing is very isolating and this feels like a way to connect with a community of sorts that might offer some insight and/or support.
And, yes, this is all very real. I haven't fudged a single word and don't plan on it. I've left out names and made some details vague for privacy reasons, but this isn't fiction. I wish it was, but it's not.
You are making jokes about something that seems pretty serious. Why?
Because a sense of humor is about the only thing helping to keep me sane at the moment. I'm not making light of the situation, but even in the hardest of moments, I can see the humor. It's good to be able to laugh once in awhile. Totally beats crying.
Does your wife know you're doing this?
No, she does not. I'm not sure she'd understand at this point why it feels like a necessity for me. I'm not intentionally keeping it from her - I've already learned about the damage lying can do to a relationship - but I'm not making a point to tell her, either. As I said above, I'm making sure that her privacy is not compromised.
What if she finds out, gets totally pissed and asks you to stop?
Then I'll stop. I won't do anything that threatens our attempt at reconciliation.
If you hate The Assface, shouldn't you hate your wife, too? It's not like he made her do it.
Good point. But it's different. I love her and I don't love him. I know exactly where she was at in her life when this happened and from our talks over the last eight weeks, I know that she was in a pretty fragile state and entered into the relationship with far different expectations than he did. Again - it doesn't excuse what she did, but I don't think she entered into it lightly, where I do believe that he entered into it simply to get laid. Tough to explain. I don't hate her. I love her.
Why not just leave her?
Because I love her. Because despite our setbacks over the last few years, we've had a good marriage. Because she's been my best friend for a very long time. Because I want to grow old with her. Because I love her.
If you could say anything to The Assface, what would it be?
Tell your wife before she finds out on her own. Because she will. (I would place a few strategic F-bombs in those two sentences, too.)
Is writing here every day helping?
More than I thought it would, actually.
Do you care if people read this?
Yes, I do. As I mentioned above, one of things I'm hoping for is insight from folks who have no stake in the situation. So, yes, I hope a few more readers will trickle in to offer an opinion or two.
What if Oprah discovers your blog and invites you on the show?
I would decline. Remaining anonymous and maintaining our privacy is kind of important right now for the health of our marriage.
How long are you going to do this?
I do not have the answer to that.
Is this all real or are you making it up for the attention?
If I wanted attention, I could dance down my street naked, singing Beyonce songs. No, this is not for attention. I needed an outlet to talk about the situation, but not one in which people knew me. Friends tend to take sides and make judgments and that's not what I'm looking for. I just want to get the thoughts out of my head. The entire thing is very isolating and this feels like a way to connect with a community of sorts that might offer some insight and/or support.
And, yes, this is all very real. I haven't fudged a single word and don't plan on it. I've left out names and made some details vague for privacy reasons, but this isn't fiction. I wish it was, but it's not.
You are making jokes about something that seems pretty serious. Why?
Because a sense of humor is about the only thing helping to keep me sane at the moment. I'm not making light of the situation, but even in the hardest of moments, I can see the humor. It's good to be able to laugh once in awhile. Totally beats crying.
Does your wife know you're doing this?
No, she does not. I'm not sure she'd understand at this point why it feels like a necessity for me. I'm not intentionally keeping it from her - I've already learned about the damage lying can do to a relationship - but I'm not making a point to tell her, either. As I said above, I'm making sure that her privacy is not compromised.
What if she finds out, gets totally pissed and asks you to stop?
Then I'll stop. I won't do anything that threatens our attempt at reconciliation.
If you hate The Assface, shouldn't you hate your wife, too? It's not like he made her do it.
Good point. But it's different. I love her and I don't love him. I know exactly where she was at in her life when this happened and from our talks over the last eight weeks, I know that she was in a pretty fragile state and entered into the relationship with far different expectations than he did. Again - it doesn't excuse what she did, but I don't think she entered into it lightly, where I do believe that he entered into it simply to get laid. Tough to explain. I don't hate her. I love her.
Why not just leave her?
Because I love her. Because despite our setbacks over the last few years, we've had a good marriage. Because she's been my best friend for a very long time. Because I want to grow old with her. Because I love her.
If you could say anything to The Assface, what would it be?
Tell your wife before she finds out on her own. Because she will. (I would place a few strategic F-bombs in those two sentences, too.)
Is writing here every day helping?
More than I thought it would, actually.
Do you care if people read this?
Yes, I do. As I mentioned above, one of things I'm hoping for is insight from folks who have no stake in the situation. So, yes, I hope a few more readers will trickle in to offer an opinion or two.
What if Oprah discovers your blog and invites you on the show?
I would decline. Remaining anonymous and maintaining our privacy is kind of important right now for the health of our marriage.
How long are you going to do this?
I do not have the answer to that.
Monday, March 2, 2009
98 Degrees > The Backstreet Boys
You know your life is sucking when titles of 98 Degrees songs keep popping up in everything you say and do.
The repercussions of the anonymous email are still rippling through our home. Last night was one of the toughest nights I've had. I say that without exaggeration and with the knowledge that nearly every night in the last two months has been tough.
The email put us completely on edge, unsure of what my wife would be walking into when she went to work this morning. There was some thought on my part that The Assface sent it just to get in my head (see comments in previous post) but for a couple of reasons, I don't think it was him. But I knew almost immediately that my wife was going to need to talk to him about the email and as much as I didn't want that to happen, I knew it was a necessity. And I knew that in order for her to find some peace of mind heading into work, she would need to talk to him last night. She couldn't really take the chance of talking to him at the office if our new friend is indeed an employee.
She knew it, too, and I could feel it between us as we were driving home from the hotel we spent the night at Saturday. She didn't want to ask and I'm glad she didn't. As we were going to pick up our child, I pulled over to the side of the road and did maybe the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
I told her it was okay to call him.
I had to. Over the last two months, I've said I'd do whatever it took to show her that I loved her, to learn to trust her again and to rebuild our relationship. She is my everything. Our counselor has stressed that finding resolution and battling things together helps rebuild the intimacy in a relationship. Toughness makes you see the potential again in one another. An opportunity presented itself and I had to put up or shut up.
So I put up.
My wife was stunned, to say the least. I, of course, immediately burst into tears as I do so often these days. She said something about it being generous and selfless, but I was already spinning, wondering if I'd just made the dumbest decision of my life, to really pay attention to her. But I told her that I meant it, that I was serious, that I hated the idea of it, but that I understood it was something she needed to do and I said "I hope you understand that I'm doing this solely because of you."
I chose to leave the house last night when she called him. I didn't want her to leave, but I knew I couldn't be here. So I went and wandered around a bookstore for two hours, not really reading anything, just trying to think of anything other than her on the phone with The Assface. Didn't work. I ended up spending some time in my car, crying. She called me when she was done, wanted me to come home. I wasn't ready.
I finally did come home later on and she told me exactly what the conversation entailed - no, he hadn't gotten an email, no, he didn't know who would send it, yes, he understood their jobs could potentially be in jeopardy, yes, they would even have to limit their professional dealings with each other to avoid any appearance that there had ever been anything other than a professional relationship. And, yes, he was still a giant prick.*
It was fairly obvious how badly I was hurting and her concern for me was genuine. I appreciated it, but I had a hard time showing it. She thanked me over and over, told me she understood how hard it was for me, asked if there was anything she could do to help me and that she knew she'd put me in that position. But I was just numb. Telling your wife that it's okay to talk to the guy who was fucking her for a few weeks will do that to you.
And I'm having trouble shaking it this morning. It just hurts and I'm not entirely sure why and I can't seem to shut it off. I didn't sleep last night and I'm exhausted and I'm pretty sure I could be mistaken for a corpse at any moment. Give me just one night of sleep and that might help.
But today - I am hurting. Badly.
*He probably didn't say that. I think I made it up.
The repercussions of the anonymous email are still rippling through our home. Last night was one of the toughest nights I've had. I say that without exaggeration and with the knowledge that nearly every night in the last two months has been tough.
The email put us completely on edge, unsure of what my wife would be walking into when she went to work this morning. There was some thought on my part that The Assface sent it just to get in my head (see comments in previous post) but for a couple of reasons, I don't think it was him. But I knew almost immediately that my wife was going to need to talk to him about the email and as much as I didn't want that to happen, I knew it was a necessity. And I knew that in order for her to find some peace of mind heading into work, she would need to talk to him last night. She couldn't really take the chance of talking to him at the office if our new friend is indeed an employee.
She knew it, too, and I could feel it between us as we were driving home from the hotel we spent the night at Saturday. She didn't want to ask and I'm glad she didn't. As we were going to pick up our child, I pulled over to the side of the road and did maybe the hardest thing I've ever had to do.
I told her it was okay to call him.
I had to. Over the last two months, I've said I'd do whatever it took to show her that I loved her, to learn to trust her again and to rebuild our relationship. She is my everything. Our counselor has stressed that finding resolution and battling things together helps rebuild the intimacy in a relationship. Toughness makes you see the potential again in one another. An opportunity presented itself and I had to put up or shut up.
So I put up.
My wife was stunned, to say the least. I, of course, immediately burst into tears as I do so often these days. She said something about it being generous and selfless, but I was already spinning, wondering if I'd just made the dumbest decision of my life, to really pay attention to her. But I told her that I meant it, that I was serious, that I hated the idea of it, but that I understood it was something she needed to do and I said "I hope you understand that I'm doing this solely because of you."
I chose to leave the house last night when she called him. I didn't want her to leave, but I knew I couldn't be here. So I went and wandered around a bookstore for two hours, not really reading anything, just trying to think of anything other than her on the phone with The Assface. Didn't work. I ended up spending some time in my car, crying. She called me when she was done, wanted me to come home. I wasn't ready.
I finally did come home later on and she told me exactly what the conversation entailed - no, he hadn't gotten an email, no, he didn't know who would send it, yes, he understood their jobs could potentially be in jeopardy, yes, they would even have to limit their professional dealings with each other to avoid any appearance that there had ever been anything other than a professional relationship. And, yes, he was still a giant prick.*
It was fairly obvious how badly I was hurting and her concern for me was genuine. I appreciated it, but I had a hard time showing it. She thanked me over and over, told me she understood how hard it was for me, asked if there was anything she could do to help me and that she knew she'd put me in that position. But I was just numb. Telling your wife that it's okay to talk to the guy who was fucking her for a few weeks will do that to you.
And I'm having trouble shaking it this morning. It just hurts and I'm not entirely sure why and I can't seem to shut it off. I didn't sleep last night and I'm exhausted and I'm pretty sure I could be mistaken for a corpse at any moment. Give me just one night of sleep and that might help.
But today - I am hurting. Badly.
*He probably didn't say that. I think I made it up.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Why Technology Sucks
So I mentioned yesterday how we were planning a night out that we were both looking forward to. A friend's party and a night at a swanky hotel.
And then I got an email.
It was anonymous, of course, as all hateful, painful, cruel emails are. I myself have never sent one so I'm not entirely sure what possesses a person to send one, but now I know what it's like to receive one.
It was a short one. Just told me that my wife was having an affair. Told me The Assface's name. Mentioned where they worked. Said they were terribly sorry to have to tell me. The End.
I knew everything in the email - there was no new information for me. This person obviously thought I didn't know and certainly if I hadn't, it would've been like a brick to the groin. So it didn't carry that kind of pain when I read it. But it was like ripping a gigantic scab off a gaping wound. Literally took my breath away. Like all the work I've put in over the last two months in trying to get through this went right out the window. All the insecurity and jealousy and anger and sadness just walked back into the room and took a seat next to me, waving at me, like they'd missed me.
I tried to keep it from my wife, determined not to let it ruin our weekend, but she knew immediately something was wrong and eventually got it out of me and I showed it to her. Our assumption is that it is someone from work, which is a little scary, as she didn't think anyone knew.
Why send me the email? Are you trying to hurt me? Trying to hurt my wife? Trying to hurt Assface? Not for a second do I believe this person had my best interest at heart. A real friend wouldn't send an email. That's what a fucking coward does. And why now? Am I missing something? Is my wife lying to me again? Is that what I'm supposed to think? Or were you just working up the courage to send me this shitty email, in hopes of causing a little chaos? Because I don't get it.
I've chosen to believe my wife, that the affair ended when she told me it did. We painstakingly backtracked over the last few weeks and if she was sneaking around behind my back, I think I would've had to have been dead for a couple days to not see it. There's no proof. The irrational side of me is unnerved by receiving the email NOW, but the rational side of me knows there isn't a goddamn ounce of proof that anything's happened because my wife has been an open book and we went back through that open book yesterday to reassure me.
So I believe her.
We went ahead with our night out, but it wasn't the same. Last night and this morning were weighted down by constant buzz of tension that neither of us could shake - I couldn't get the email out of my head and she is now fearful about repercussions at work. We tried to have a good time - put on our fake smiles, had some drinks, laughed with friends, stayed in bed with one another - but it all felt forced.
So to whomever sent me that email - I have no clue why you sent it. You hurt me, that's for sure. You hurt my wife, that's for sure. But you didn't tell me anything I'm not already dealing with. Your little surprise info bomb carried all the weight of a water balloon.
But seriously.
Fuck you for ruining my weekend.
And then I got an email.
It was anonymous, of course, as all hateful, painful, cruel emails are. I myself have never sent one so I'm not entirely sure what possesses a person to send one, but now I know what it's like to receive one.
It was a short one. Just told me that my wife was having an affair. Told me The Assface's name. Mentioned where they worked. Said they were terribly sorry to have to tell me. The End.
I knew everything in the email - there was no new information for me. This person obviously thought I didn't know and certainly if I hadn't, it would've been like a brick to the groin. So it didn't carry that kind of pain when I read it. But it was like ripping a gigantic scab off a gaping wound. Literally took my breath away. Like all the work I've put in over the last two months in trying to get through this went right out the window. All the insecurity and jealousy and anger and sadness just walked back into the room and took a seat next to me, waving at me, like they'd missed me.
I tried to keep it from my wife, determined not to let it ruin our weekend, but she knew immediately something was wrong and eventually got it out of me and I showed it to her. Our assumption is that it is someone from work, which is a little scary, as she didn't think anyone knew.
Why send me the email? Are you trying to hurt me? Trying to hurt my wife? Trying to hurt Assface? Not for a second do I believe this person had my best interest at heart. A real friend wouldn't send an email. That's what a fucking coward does. And why now? Am I missing something? Is my wife lying to me again? Is that what I'm supposed to think? Or were you just working up the courage to send me this shitty email, in hopes of causing a little chaos? Because I don't get it.
I've chosen to believe my wife, that the affair ended when she told me it did. We painstakingly backtracked over the last few weeks and if she was sneaking around behind my back, I think I would've had to have been dead for a couple days to not see it. There's no proof. The irrational side of me is unnerved by receiving the email NOW, but the rational side of me knows there isn't a goddamn ounce of proof that anything's happened because my wife has been an open book and we went back through that open book yesterday to reassure me.
So I believe her.
We went ahead with our night out, but it wasn't the same. Last night and this morning were weighted down by constant buzz of tension that neither of us could shake - I couldn't get the email out of my head and she is now fearful about repercussions at work. We tried to have a good time - put on our fake smiles, had some drinks, laughed with friends, stayed in bed with one another - but it all felt forced.
So to whomever sent me that email - I have no clue why you sent it. You hurt me, that's for sure. You hurt my wife, that's for sure. But you didn't tell me anything I'm not already dealing with. Your little surprise info bomb carried all the weight of a water balloon.
But seriously.
Fuck you for ruining my weekend.
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