A year ago, I was driving half-way across the country to a woodland paradise. Gorgeous country. She hated her old job (her boss had it in for her), so we were relocating. I was finally going to have the organic family farm of my dreams, in the most beautiful surroundings you can imagine.
Six months ago, we were settled in our new home state and looking for properties. I was recommitted to my marriage, to my wife, to finally being the devoted and loving husband that she could finally respond to. I was going to be fully on board with my relationship like never before. Besides, it didn’t really matter if she loved me back. Just having the opportunity to love was all you could really ask for in life. Mutually loving and supportive relationships were Hollywood fantasies; that, or so exceedingly rare as to be irrelevant. Maybe some people got a respite every few incarnations, a chance to love and be happy, but it wasn’t really where the good growth was. Great relationships were for wimps.
Four months ago, her new job was no longer tenable. The people who hired her were no longer there, her new boss didn’t like her (and said so to her face, I was told), and new job requirements were causing her to violate her personal ethics.
The kids were settled in new schools, but what the hell, I said. Let’s go back. I would never ask you to be miserable.
It’s true that my parents were ‘back home’ and made no bones about wishing we’d come back. There were lots of opportunities for me back home, too. I want to sing, to take classes, to make friends, and in a city that size, there’s something for everyone. I hated the place, yes, or at least had hated it, but that was just proof I probably needed to go back and work out some issues.
It seemed like things were falling into place.
So we moved back.
Then she quit the job we moved back for before she’d even started it, choosing to go with another company instead. Okay, I said. Another three weeks without a paycheck. No big deal. We can figure it out. I want you to be happy. You probably need to keep this one for awhile, though. At least two or three years. And the salary would be good once she finally started. We should finally be okay financially, I told friends.
Two months ago, we were looking at houses together. Somewhere where our son, who has severe autism, could finally be happy. A place with a pool. (He loves swimming.) Maybe a couple of acres, not enough room for a farm, but big enough for a garden and a few chickens. Possibly a goat, if we’re lucky.
To that end, we were going to take out our retirement to fix up and sell our current home.
A month ago, this was still the plan. New house. New life.
Now…my spouse is a crazed sociopathic vampire who doesn’t love me or our children.
Or it’s me, because I’m tired of the cycles. I had an online friend of several years tell me goodbye. We weren’t up to anything, no private conversations, didn’t know her name or what she looked like, but hell was that a woman I could love. Shouldn’t and didn’t because I couldn’t, but sure could have. Maybe she did me and that’s why she said goodbye. Don’t know. Didn’t get any explanations, nor ask for any. Decided it was none of my business. And, you know, it really wasn’t.
After a week or two of moping around about that, I decided I am so very tired of these cycles. Of trying to love a partner who takes and takes and gives very little. Of almost being helpless against infatuations with other women.
I thought I had it all under control, everything settled and in its place. At that point, though, I realized it was a grand delusion. Quite frankly there had never NOT been the idea of someone else.