Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Scene 8: Strike 2

December came and went rather uneventfully. He wasn't able to come home for Christmas because he was traveling. My son went on his own to pick out the tree, a tradition that my husband had always handled. It was weird. But the kids decorated, like they do every year. My son and his fiance came and spent Christmas eve with us and we got up and opened presents together on Christmas morning. 

It was only the second Christmas in our entire marriage that he wasn't there. The first time he was deployed. I bought my first fake tree. That was a sad Christmas. But this time, not only was he deployed, but he was missing this time. Noticeably absent from the whole holiday. Ugh...anyway we survived and I started the new year with as much hope as I could muster. 

We were talking. It seemed that we were getting along pretty well. Tension were starting to ease up some. We were starting to laugh and joke like we used to. But at the same time I began noticing that we only talked when he was going to or coming from work. More and more we never talked about anything of substance or over any length of time. Again I was starting to feel some kind of way so we decided to schedule a Saturday talk in February. Just to have some time devoted to really talking. 

He asked for a divorce...again.

Fuck.

I asked why and of course he said the same old tired shit he had been saying. We had grown apart. He didn't feel the same anymore. He loved me but he wasn't "in love" with me. I fucking hate that expression by the way. I can live a thousand years and never hear that again.

He said he was tired of being the good guy and always doing the right thing. Well I couldn't compete with that. So I said ok. Whatever you want to do. 

I cried. I blogged and I prayed for several weeks. Finally in March I got him on the phone to talk about details. I had questions I wanted answered about how we were going to handle things like the house, cars, bill etc. But finally I said to him that the one thing that upset me the most was that he had not even given me a chance. Had not given us a chance to try and make it work. He agreed with that.

But then he asked me "what if I am attracted to someone else?" I said ok. Have you slept with her. He said no and I asked why not. He said because he was married. I told him that if he had really wanted to sleep with her, being married would not have stopped him. Someone right at that moment was fucking someone else and was married. And the fact that he hadn't was proof that he was a good guy. She was a symptom and not a cure. 

My point was, let's stay on plan. Retire, come home and we will give it our best to make it work. Get counseling and everything. And if by the end of 2010 he felt the same way, then we could say peace out and not feel bad about it. 

Again, he agreed.

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