This has been a rough week for Jack and me. Not rough in the sense of scaling high emotional peaks or rappelling into deep psychological crevices, but rough in the sense of picking our way over old rocky ground. Ground so old the stones shatter with our weight and we risk falling and not bothering to get back up.
This week, Jack said he wanted to walk with a friend but the guy wasn’t available. I asked him to walk with me. His wife. Jack explained that no, he couldn’t walk with me. Said he just wouldn’t be able to enjoy that.
This week, Jack said he planned to sell our house and move us into an apartment so we could travel around the world with the money we’d save. I asked him how we were going to travel the world together if we couldn’t even walk around the block compatibly. He said his plan was to lose a hundred-and-fifty pounds and get off all his medication and then we’d travel the world.
I said I’d like to wait until then to sell the house. He said I was, as unusual, critical and non-supportive of him. Which struck me funny. But then, admittedly, I do have an odd sense of humor.
This week Jack wanted to see a movie, so we went to Man of Steel. We arrived in the darkened theater to a packed house. The only two seats together were way down front, second row from the front. Because of my trifocals, I have a hard time seeing up that close. I said maybe we should just get our money back and come to a different showing. Jack said, I could sit up top by myself if I couldn’t see from down front. He sat. I fumed.
For about three minutes.
Then I just laid down on the ancient bed of crumbling rocks and went to sleep. Metaphorically.
There is no point in taking his comments or actions personally when he’s in his anniversary period. Better for me to go on alone and know we’ll meet up when he’s feeling more social. Or maybe we won’t meet up emotionally. Either way, it’s a huge waste of time and energy for me to pick my way along that old, crumbling path. I already know where that trail goes.
This week Jack told me he loved me. I said I loved him, too. It’s true. I do love him. But for now, he’s going to be treading that old, winding and familiar path alone. I’m strolling in the sunshine. A crick in my neck from forcing myself NOT to look over at him stumbling along the old path. But, nonetheless, I’m breaking trail.