Deep Revelations The Day Before Hell

My wife and I were hit hard during the pandemic, I won’t talk about her issues out of respect for her, but I had a surgery that had me out of work for two months with no pay, then lost my job three months later on a “temporary layoff”, and never heard back. All of this hit me really hard and deep, money has been a trigger for me for a long time, growing up with so little and then one of my oldest friends screwing me out of a few thousand dollars, telling me to eff off and that he didn’t owe me anything.

Long story short, I’ve been closed off by intense fear for awhile now, I started having insomnia so bad I’ve been sleeping on the couch for a lot of it because I don’t want to disturb her sleep, as she hasn’t slept well in a long time. I also started showing signs of ED, she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with and we have such amazing sex that this left me feeling even further emasculated, depressed, anxious, and afraid because sex means so much to both of us, if I couldn’t get it up for my wife, what good was I?

I’ve felt like a terrible husband for awhile, even though I’ve been there for her when she needs me, kissed her, grabbed at her as she left the room, hugged her, and snuggled, I’ve been so bathed in fear I couldn’t see that I was pushing her away, I’ve been working so hard for a better future for us, I’d forgotten about the present.

I’d been so stubborn about therapy, then after a conversation with my stepfather a few weeks back I realized I’d been wrong about a few things and that I should just do it. So I’ve been searching for a therapist on my own, and was waiting for all of the life, school, and events we had last month to taper down so we could start looking for a couple’s counselor together that fit us. I found a therapist for myself, and have just been waiting to hear back, and in the meantime I’d put myself in the queue for short term therapy at my college, they got back to me this week, after it was all too late. I was going to tell her I’d been doing what I said I’d do, but I thought it would mean more if I told her after I’d finally gotten somewhere with it.

I then had a revelation last Sunday, as I was writing the script for a short film I was shooting the next day, about how immersed in my fear I’d been, not just about money, but everything, I felt a stirring in my heart of hope sweeping over that fear, a bastion of change that I could work hard at to bring into being. Yet again, I thought it would mean more to share this revelation with her once I’d finished the film, artists being so stuck on the idiotic idea of grand gestures when communicating is just as effective.

Then Monday she came home from helping her sister finish up what she needed to to leave for grad school, I was so happy, I was just hours away from being able to share everything with her, then I saw that look in her eye and she told me she would be filing for divorce and that there was nothing that could be done. It broke me, everything I wanted to tell her just wouldn’t come out and we just stared at each other for hours until I, in my anger, sadness, hurt and confusion walked out of the room and closed the door.

She left the next day for a friend’s house, coming home long enough to grab some of her stuff and our dog, I couldn’t articulate my words and they all just came out angry and confused, she’d been claiming we were codependent, and that that wasn’t fixable together, and while after researching it I see elements in our relationship, a great deal of it is circumstantial due to Covid and quarantine, by necessity of lockdown we’d only had each other. I didn’t know any of this at the time, I hadn’t sat down and read about it yet, but in the last moments she was there, I said to her that I don’t need her, I’d survived for many years without her and was just fine, but that I want want we have and could have with some work, that I want her, the family we’ve been planning for, all of it. This was the first time I’d seen her walls drop, for the first time in the last day I saw the woman I married, not this cold person that I could barely recognize, the temperature of my words finally able to lower, becoming more rational.

She asked if we could talk in a couple of days, I said yes and helped her get the rest of her stuff down to the car. Wednesday night into Thursday morning I saw she was online, and asked if she still wanted to talk sometime Thursday. I was greeted by an excited “Sure! Yes!” followed a few seconds later by “Oh gosh I thought you were ____ for some reason”, no sorry, just that, then “Ummm…Can we try for sometime next week?”. My heart had been lifted so suddenly, and then sunk even further below the point it had been in, she was acting like nothing was wrong, not even talking to me like I was the man she married, that she loves, just another person in her life that due to her busy schedule, plans can be put on hold. But I said sure, that’s fine, even though I was dying inside.

I went out for a drink with our mutual friend she’s staying with Thursday, as those things go it’s a lot of, “You have to be okay with the fact that she’s leaving you” sort of talk, but I’m not, we didn’t get a fair shake at a happy marriage, we’ve been together for two years, married for one, and that first year of marriage, during a pandemic, would have created great trials in even the most established of relationships. And I had been working on finding a therapist, little smatterings of insight over the last month, in addition to the revelation right before this happened. It was god awful timing for both of us, and a lack of communication on my part because I thought I was doing the right thing and wanted to tell her when I had an appointment, doing for me without her having to be involved. Change takes time, and there is so much good change on the horizon, it is a mistake to give up now, because I understand now, my head has slowly been clearing of fear for the first time in over a year, and I am ready and willing to put in that hard work.

I sent him home with some groceries she had bought and some money as a gesture, trying to let her know in at least a small way I wasn’t going to let money get in between us anymore, as it’s been one of the issues we’ve had. He also urged me to tell her about my quiet search for a therapist, and that I’d finally been able to procure a session, something I thought at this point would come off as disingenuous or manipulative, which is why I’d stayed silent about everything after she left, I just figured she’d think I was lying and desperate, even though she knows I hate lying.

I got a message from her that night as I was writing to tell her about therapy, putting my fears aside again and having faith that she knows me, and knows when I’m being genuine. Her message was one of confusion about the things I’d sent, and asked why. I told her some of what you’ve read, and also told her about therapy. She was happy to hear that but still talking to me like any other person. She then asked if she could come by Friday around 5pm, to grab her check and some painting supplies, I said that was fine.

I paced the same ten feet of our living room from about 3:30 until close to 6pm when she finally messaged me asking if she could bring Bailey (our dog), I said of course and she was on her way. I’ve never been so sure I was dying with the mix of everything going on in my body, mind, and heart when she pulled up. I was expecting the callous nonchalance I’d been receiving over text, instead I walked out onto the porch as she was picking blackberries with her back to me, when she turned around she smiled, said hello, and commented on the fruits around our apartment building ripening. I was shocked but happy, and when we went inside, she embraced me, hard and long, I was so confused but I did the same. Then we kissed passionately for a time, it was so nice to be seeing my wife, not that other person I saw Monday and Tuesday.

The mail hadn’t come, and she didn’t seem to be in any hurry, another surprise to me, so we sat down. We talked, kissed, snuggled, laughed, and cried. I told her everything I’d been waiting to, and how dumb I felt about the waiting. I told her I wanted to start living without all that fear, doing the things that I find frustrating (we also think I might have autism in some fashion), and we ended up cooking a meal together, and I tried to eat even though I hadn’t been able to eat much this week.

After dinner and more snuggles, we tore each other’s clothes off and had such good sex, going from making out on the couch, to the bathroom to rinse off even though we got started there, to the bedroom where she went off like a geyser like she usually does, and we did it twice. I don’t remember the last time I was able to go for two rounds, it was definitely before the pandemic. We laughed, and sighed, told each other how much we loved one another, and then she left to go back to our friend’s, still not sure if she was not going to divorce me. She’d talked about an extended separation between us while we start going to counseling, however I don’t think that’s a good idea and would only hurt our relationship further. She has people to be around in the house she’s in, it’s easier to forget about everything going on. I’m alone in the now silent home we built together, with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me for all the time I’m not working on school work, and even with taking on other activities, I can’t possibly fill every waking moment of mine with constant movement. At least if she came back home, we could start working on new routines, ways to show one another we love, cherish, and respect the other. It would be different if her leaving was the reason for all of the revelations I’ve had, but that had been happening before she left, so now this feels like an extended punishment for my not talking about it sooner.