Who do you call?
Had some stuff go down today that I'm not quite sure what to make of it. It left me a weepy mess, wondering what the next step would be. My husband boarded a plane this afternoon taking him 1600 miles away. He knows what's going on, and the distance doesn't help.
So I sit and wonder... How does estrangement happen? One day at a time I suppose. Or is it deeper than that? Is it instance by instance? Is it being hung up on, emails not returned, calls not returned? Is it creating emotional distance to spare your own feelings? Tired of never knowing how what you will say will be interpreted? The gulf growing ever deeper, harder to cross, leaving vast space where there was once closeness.
It's not that I can't talk to my husband about what's going on. At this point, it's like beating a dead horse. It's tiring, rehashing the same issue over and over. "Guess what..." I start. "What now," he replies, almost knowing what I'm going to say before I say it. Once I tell him, a small smile crosses his lips. He knows where this is going, again.
This time, though, it's different. Maybe. This time, I feel I'm left holding the reigns. I don't know what to do. I've been hurt too many times. I worry if I put myself out there again, it will come back to bite me like it has in the past. I worry if I don't, things will never get better. It's not that I don't want things to work, I do... almost desperately, in fact. Maybe that's the problem. I'm holding on to a memory of the past, knowing that it will never be that way again. It never can be that way, too much has happened. Or has it?
So I found myself tonight at McD's. The kids were playing. I'd already talked to my Mom earlier in the day; twice, in fact. I'd talked to my husband too... but I still needed to talk. So if you got a stilted voicemail not making much sense, trying to sound normal - it was just me. Trying to reconcile an impossible situation.
When the shit hits the fan... Who do you call?
Monday, November 13, 2006
Who do you call?