Fade in: Dark rainy night, a couple driving home, woman at the wheel. Two children are sound asleep in the middle seat. The back of the SUV full with two bowling bags, several coats, a blanket. The man presses two fingers to his right temple, a pained look on his face.
“What’s the matter now?” she asks, glancing over at him with a cross expression on her face.
“You are sucking the life out of me, Tia. Does that classify as something being wrong?” He shakes his head, peering intently at something beyond the rain streaked windows. His hopes and dreams moving slowly away over the horizon, perhaps. He’s been drinking. It’s bowling night. They are one and the same. Drink on bowling night, or bowl on drinking night. The line between the two blurs. “This isn’t enough. I want more out of life. I can’t be so apathetic about life that I shuffle through each day like some mummy with a bad bandage job. I can’t just sit back and be content with where we’re at, what we’re doing, who we are right now.”
Her only answer is a deep sigh. Christ, she thinks, He’s getting some now, and now that’s not even enough. What the fuck else does he want now? I’ve got my own problems. I take care of the kids practically without his help. I may as well be a single mom. How am I supposed to do anything BUT muddle through my life. It’s get up, make the kids breakfast, take them to daycare, off to work, pick them up, feed them dinner, and he might help put them to bed. Then I finally get to eat, watch TV for an hour, and off to bed to do it all again. Looking forward to the weekend so I can do another eight loads of laundry. And I’m supposed to have something left for him? Who the fuck is he kidding, the asshole. She says nothing. She always says nothing. It is pointless. He’ll try and listen. He’s the one that always wants to talk things through. Try to make things better. Eight years later and he still thinks talking will change things. She knows better. The last person she tried to open up to – well, there’s just uglier things than physical abuse, sometimes. He always wants to get a promise from her, that she’ll change something. He won’t say what, won’t tell her what he wants her to commit to. He keeps telling her – Commit to something. Anything. No more empty promises. Pick something and commit to it. So we can set some goals. Reach them item by item. Who the fuck are you kidding, asshole? You want me to commit to something so you can hang it over my head when I don’t do it. Something else to slap me in the face with. You’ll never get a commitment from me, you shit. Because If I commit once, and do it, then it will be another, and another, and another. You say it will make things better with us. I know better. I’ve been there. The last guy said the same thing. I nearly committed myself to a mental hospital. You could be him. I don’t care if we’re married. You could be him. I won’t go through that again. Besides, you don’t have the fucking balls to do anything about it anyway. What are you going to do? Leave me? I’ve got the kids. You’ll never leave. Why should anything change. I’m as content as I’m going to be. Why work to make it better for you, when you won’t appreciate it, and you won’t leave me if I don’t do anything about it. Oh, you’ll threaten it. So did he. It worked for him. It won’t work for you. I’ve got you by the balls. I don’t have to talk to you, I don’t have to open myself to you to be hurt again. And if you do ever get the balls to leave me, I’ll have the kids, I’ll be a single mom, which I might as well be anyway, and we couldn’t be any worse off for the money either way.
To Be Continued
6 comments:
Michael, you know that you're the 'chick's cellmate and she loves you more'n her luggage. This of course entitles her to very gently ask you:
What goals have YOU set for YOURSELF? And what are you doing to meet them?
Ultimately, only you can make you happy. Not her, only you.
The Now-Former-Mr.-Roadchick's parting shot to the 'chick was:
If YOU were a better person, I'd be happy (and wouldn't have to drink, etc.)
He made the mistake of pinning his happiness (and addiction) on someone else. Always a mistake.
i second chick, at the same time i get where you're coming from. it's the biggest catch-22 ever, relationship wise. his/her actions, or lack thereof, make you miserable. and there's nothing like being miserable to make you want to throw in the towel and give up on trying to improve yourself. at the same time your actions, or lack thereof, are making him/her miserable. at the end of the day though the only thing that will change the situation is to change yourself. either the way you look at things or how you respond to things. it's a constant battle, but remember, without the downs, the ups just don't mean as much. keep the faith and don't give up. and know that your blogland buddies are cheering you on.
'chick - I appreciate the brutal honesty. And yes, only I can make me happy. I'm also under the evidently old fashioned belief set that your happiness overall should be found with your spouse, the one you've chosen to spend the rest of your life with. Because ultimately, no one marries to be miserable for the rest of their natural life.
Here's the rub, and Heather's Catch 22. It takes 2 to compromise. Both have to move some towards the middle. The dreams wants desires etc. that I have I want to have with her. Straight up.
And for the record, the above narrative is a general approximation of the situation, as well as an image I have of her thought process, with some artistic license taken. I don't know exactly how she thinks, as she's never been that communicative.
Another for the record - 90% of our relationship is good, and satisfying. Its the 10% that's killing me right now.
Nope, no one marries to be miserable for the rest of their life. You're right.
But the thing of the thing is this - if the 10% is killing you, then YOU will have to find a way to ease it, without counting on her participating in it. It may mean substituting one dream for another, but one that is equally satisfying. It may mean stuffing some things into the bottom of a trunk and slamming the lid for the time being. And it means maybe being able to let that trunk stay locked forever - if you want the marriage to work and to last - forever.
Sympathy is with you, darlin - the 10% is like a sore that you can't leave alone, but picking and worrying and dwelling won't make it better. You've got to leave it alone and give it a chance to heal. And as you ease up, she may relax. (She may not, but at least you're not obsessing either.)
Sweetie, the 'chick has your back.
Always.
I think most would sympathize in this situation. Many have dealt with this in one form or another.
What I'll say is that while life isn't all wine and roses a marraige should almost always be about lifting the other person up and not bringing them down. If you've got dreams that she doesn't appreciate I think that's a problem. Of course if your dreams are to become the most famous axe-murderer of all time, then you're the one with the problem.
But let's not pretend that we need to keep our mouths shut and suck-it-up because that's what she does or thinks you should do. Sometimes my wife can't stand to talk things through and I say tough! I talk about groceries while the football game is on... she can talk about my problems when she is tired and wants to go to sleep.
To expect a relationship to be 100% is setting yourself up to fail. 100% means perfection. I've been happily married for 28 years but it's never been 100% because two flawed people are involved. Quiting is easy. Making it last, that's the bitch.
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