Achrannach in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

So I suppose it wouldn’t really be my life if there wasn’t something complicated, unexpected, or difficult thrown in at just the right moment to make me feel a need to write about it. Therein lies the… bizarre nature of me and my world, friends. I can honestly say a number of things I’ve written so far came IN SPITE of me not because of me. After all, I do have stuff to do. In fact, even on days where I don’t have stuff to do I could entertain myself in other ways than writing. Clean my desk, review I Can Haz, peruse TheChive, watch YouTube videos, get a head start on the next month. There ARE things to do. But I write. Because I must. I am compelled to do so. If for no other purpose than to keep a record of the events and emotions that make up my life. Since sometimes, honestly, even I wouldn’t believe it unless I could pinpoint the exact time and date that I chronicled the experience. Whereas in a few years, the events of the day may be fuzzy memories constantly being reinterpreted through mis-remembering… if I can review what I wrote almost immediately after the event took place… the emotions may be higher but the reporting will also, likely, be more accurate. OR, if not factually accurate… at least it will be a clearer and more reliable recitation of my personal observations and experience.

Last night, I drove to Therapy. I gave my Therapist what I had written and talked to her about the bullshit of bad press. Here’s where things start to turn: She mentioned how she and Wife’s therapist had been talking. It is clear that Wife and I are seeking individual therapy as supplemental (and apart from) our couple’s counseling and that one of the BIG therapy focuses for both Wife and I is the marriage. So they (both therapists) wanted to make sure they had our (Wife and I) permission to compare notes to see if there was a way they could help US in our individual counseling. I was fine with it. After all, I know where my therapist lands on the assessment of my relationship. Even last night the following pieces were shared
- my therapist strongly does not condone cheating; but is shocked and blown away that I have not cheated on my wife in all this time.
- my therapist is baffled and angry for me that my Wife considers 8 months of celibacy as acceptable; let alone the fact that 8 months isn’t even that long for us (tragically)
- my therapist is honestly struggling with how I’ve dealt with Wife considering that when I demanded my needs, Wife would blow up and freak out; and when I give up on my needs and am CLEARLY unhappy; Wife thinks we’re doing okay.

So my Therapist is clearly a woman that understands. Shit, she specifically mentioned “I know men are said to be ‘the sexual ones’ but as a woman… if I was living with my husband and saw him every day and didn’t say ‘I love you’ every day and didn’t have any physical relationship?? I think I would have lost it 3 months in. I can’t even comprehend not doing that for 8 months straight.”

AND YET since we’ve given our therapists permission to speak to each other as supplemental to our Couple’s Counseling… there is something else to note.

My therapist, as baffled and upset at Wife and her behavior as she is, told me that she 100% genuinely and honestly believes that my wife loves me. After speaking with Wife’s therapist… Wife loves me and realizes the problem in our marriage is that she is inattentive and inactive. My therapist wants to set up a Couple’s Retreat for us to, in her words, “Force some clarity for both of you.”

Because… and I’ll be honest here… knowing that Wife genuinely is in love with me (or believes herself to be) gets me in the feels. But it doesn’t shake my anger or my disappointment or my frustration. You love me?? Then why treat me like you do? You love me?? Then why act as though a physical relationship with me is repugnant? You love me?? Then why, even after our Couple’s Counselor told you to seek individual therapy, did you wait 4 months!?! No offense, lady, but if you love me… then why does it seem our relationship doesn’t fucking mater to you?!

So that is where I am there. In a place of “Oh, goody. My wife, in her capacity, loves me. My wife, who has forced upon us a combined 80 months of celibacy… who still screams at me at the top of her lungs (in front of company)… who still thinks a hug is an appropriate ‘maximum level of affection’ in a marriage… loves me.”

Time was up and it was time to leave therapy. There was no time between therapy and play, so I drove straight to the theater. Here’s a funny and awkward bit of truth. Yes, I am Harold Crick. So, if you read the play synopsis I posted yesterday; you’ll know that the play I am in is… eerily like my life. Also, you’ll note that immediately before entering stage, there is the sound of a car crash… my character getting into a car crash. Fucking hell, Fate! As I was driving to the theater last night? A deer jumped in front of my car. Damaging the front passenger side light fixture and front bumper. So… going to a play about a 35 year old childless man struggling with decisions about divorce where the character gets into a car accident before showing up.... I (a 35 year old childless man struggling with decisions about divorce) got into a car accident before showing up to the theater. This. Is. Insane!!!! At this point, I’m thinking shit couldn’t be clearer if God himself showed up and slapped me in the face. But of course… I’m still arguing with myself because that is my fucking specialty!

So.... the play starts up. “Emily” and I are downstairs talking. The play is structured so that “Emily” isn’t in the first scene and I’m only in the last half of the first scene. So “Emily” and I are talking. We have… a lot in common. Like… not just interests and tastes and hobbies but like… it is… a little upsetting. The truth is… and I’m almost crying as I write this… when I was a little kid talking about “What kind of girl are you looking for?” with my friends… I invented this girl. I freaking Ruby Sparks’d this woman! A beautiful petite redhead interested in sci-fi, romantic comedy, cooking, comics, theater.... I just… the painful truth is that if I met her before I was married… I’d never have even talked to her. I’d have said, “She’s too beautiful. She’s too perfect.” And then I would have said, “She’s married, so don’t even do that to yourself.” And then, after discovering her poly-amorousness, I would have said, “Okay, she really isn’t for you because you’re looking for a wife.” That was before. Now? Shit; now it is more complicated. Because instead of an automatic “NO” making myself miserable in my pre-rejection… the situation is… more nebulous. I am married but… I’m miserable and emotionally dying for someone to make me feel attractive or worth their attention. She is married but… she’s open to dating other men and actively does so.

Ultimately, with no intention of it leading anywhere… simply wanting to express myself (honestly I’m fucking SICK of not expressing myself)… I told her that she was incredibly beautiful and that it had been a pleasure getting to know her during the play. Something straight forward… no strings… no expectations… simply a statement of basically “You look good. This has been fun.”

Her response… threw me for a loop.

She told me that she found me very attractive. She said it in a delightfully dorky way… something like “You’re very pleasing to my eyes.” Then she said something that I’m still reeling from. LIKE… haven’t the foggiest notion of how to feel about! She stated, “I was actually planning on waiting until the play was over and then I was going to flirt with you tremendously.”

KNOCK ME OVER WITH A FEATHER

The fuck?!

This beautiful, sexual, lovely, sweet but COMPLICATED woman thinks I’m attractive… is “available” to date (and more)… and is in my immediate 20 mile radius. Like.... you want to talk about ineffable emotional responses?

On one hand… I have my wife whom I promised to love, honor, and cherish. A wife who has spent 80% of our relationship making me feel like a fat, hideous, unloved mess.

On the other hand… I have a beautiful woman who is already both married and seeing someone else. But a woman who is incredibly attractive, sweet, and whose attention makes me feel better than I have in two decades.

Talk about emotional dilemmas, man!