I do... sorta.
Maybe that's what my wife should've said. Instead, she led me down the garden path. She is no longer the woman I married, but is the change really that significant? What a silly question. Of course it is.
The woman I married didn't smoke. She also didn't do drugs. She also didn't drink beers with men I hardly know in bars in Old Town Sacramento. Granted, she doesn't do that last bit very often, but that's me with my fingers crossed; maybe that's me in pure denial. In what has become so volatile a relationship, I have become a confused bundle of nerves no longer believing in the foundation of my marriage. Not good. Not very good at all.
Why the change? Why the open hostility? Why the deception? Why the wandering desires? Why why why...
It's a question I've been pondering since before my wife tried to have an open relationship with another woman (!) and leaving me to my own devices. This pondering, brooding doofus is the negative byproduct of all that time I was forced to spend alone with my brain; or, as I like to call it, my Devil. The Devil doesn't like my wife too much anymore, despite what she can do in bed, or her petty attempts to help around the house, or her out of the blue kind gestures that really amount to nothing but apologies. This is the Devil, you understand? Not me...
Me? I dunno. I try to go along. I try to see things from her side. I try to give her the benefit of the doubt. I try to give her love in hopes of receiving it. Hell, I even feel bad for these representations of my wife, telling myself she's not all that bad. But, she is. For the last year and a half she's been something else. She's been her mother. And, don't get me started on that cow.
It would be the ultimate insult to my wife to call her by her mother's name. It would be the backbreaker; the be-all-end-all move; my ace up my wicked sleeve (probably the left one, eh?). I don't want to use that particular weapon. But, what I have come to understand in my relationship with my wife is that something is indeed coming; something that will either end this marriage or save it. I suspect it will fall in my wife's lap and it will be up to her to decide. She talks a big game, but she plays for shit. I've come to believe that she's trying to fool herself. So, when that big moment arrives, will I be aware of it? Will I know that a game is afoot? Not likely. Instead, I'll feel its repercussions, hoping that the waves wash over me and not knock me on my ass.
I'm tired of all this, and that depresses me. I had waited so long for this opportunity, and for several years I felt I was being rewarded. I know I'm no prize chicken-- certainly, nothing my wife has done recently would reinforce such ideas_but, I guess I felt my patience and perseverance would pay off far longer than just enough time to fall into a matrimony that lets me fail yet again.
Well, whatever. Marriage is a battlefield that devours weaker souls and cowardly minds. Time to see which camp I fall into.
Maybe that's what my wife should've said. Instead, she led me down the garden path. She is no longer the woman I married, but is the change really that significant? What a silly question. Of course it is.
The woman I married didn't smoke. She also didn't do drugs. She also didn't drink beers with men I hardly know in bars in Old Town Sacramento. Granted, she doesn't do that last bit very often, but that's me with my fingers crossed; maybe that's me in pure denial. In what has become so volatile a relationship, I have become a confused bundle of nerves no longer believing in the foundation of my marriage. Not good. Not very good at all.
Why the change? Why the open hostility? Why the deception? Why the wandering desires? Why why why...
It's a question I've been pondering since before my wife tried to have an open relationship with another woman (!) and leaving me to my own devices. This pondering, brooding doofus is the negative byproduct of all that time I was forced to spend alone with my brain; or, as I like to call it, my Devil. The Devil doesn't like my wife too much anymore, despite what she can do in bed, or her petty attempts to help around the house, or her out of the blue kind gestures that really amount to nothing but apologies. This is the Devil, you understand? Not me...
Me? I dunno. I try to go along. I try to see things from her side. I try to give her the benefit of the doubt. I try to give her love in hopes of receiving it. Hell, I even feel bad for these representations of my wife, telling myself she's not all that bad. But, she is. For the last year and a half she's been something else. She's been her mother. And, don't get me started on that cow.
It would be the ultimate insult to my wife to call her by her mother's name. It would be the backbreaker; the be-all-end-all move; my ace up my wicked sleeve (probably the left one, eh?). I don't want to use that particular weapon. But, what I have come to understand in my relationship with my wife is that something is indeed coming; something that will either end this marriage or save it. I suspect it will fall in my wife's lap and it will be up to her to decide. She talks a big game, but she plays for shit. I've come to believe that she's trying to fool herself. So, when that big moment arrives, will I be aware of it? Will I know that a game is afoot? Not likely. Instead, I'll feel its repercussions, hoping that the waves wash over me and not knock me on my ass.
I'm tired of all this, and that depresses me. I had waited so long for this opportunity, and for several years I felt I was being rewarded. I know I'm no prize chicken-- certainly, nothing my wife has done recently would reinforce such ideas_but, I guess I felt my patience and perseverance would pay off far longer than just enough time to fall into a matrimony that lets me fail yet again.
Well, whatever. Marriage is a battlefield that devours weaker souls and cowardly minds. Time to see which camp I fall into.