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The reverberations from..
The reverberations from yesterday's meeting with the
counselor, Richard, keep hitting me today. I can tell this
process is going to hurt, and I suppose it should...
One thought: Richard asked me to think of marriage as a
circle on the ground at my feet. "How many toes do you
have in the circle?" Huh? Engineering minds don't easily
grasp the concept of toes in circles, so he translated it,
"Emotionally, on a scale of one to ten, how involved are
you in your marriage?" Well, I have zero toes in the
circle, Richard. Too hurt, too withdrawn, too tired of
trying. "So, which direction are your feet - toward the
circle, sideways, or pointing away?" I guess sideways,
because I keep looking back at the circle, wondering what I
could do to get back in, and seeing no way; then I keep
looking away, and I'm afraid of what's out there.
A telling interruption: Twenty minutes into the session,
my cell phone buzzes - idiot, you oughtta turn it on
silent! I glance at the number, and it is very
unfamiliar. I don't even say hello - just "Can I call you
later?" The unfamiliar voice answers yes, and I hang up.
Richard is surprised - "That was very direct and to the
point. Are you like that at work?" Some of the time, yes,
and I'm working on it. "But you can't be that way at
home." Looking back, I think God sent that wrong number...
I haven't been sure that I was really as different at home
and at work as all the evidence tells me, and I've been
trying so hard to be more constructively assertive at home
- without being oppressive, while maintaining a positive
attitude, without provoking a big fight over nothing. And
I just can't - and there, in that one decisive instant, I
showed just how different I act at work and at home.
A strong echo: "I've asked you every way I can, I've come
at you several different ways to assess where you are. I'm
looking with you for one last thread of hope, and there are
no more threads. You really have done everything you can."
Another strong echo: I left the counselor's office, turned
right onto the main thoroughfare because it was easier to
turn right. On the CD player was jazz singer Cassandra
Wilson. One song ended, and the next song was her slow,
bluesy rendition of "Some Day my Prince Will Come." Done
that slowly, with a sparse string bass and guitar
background, her song sounds a deep longing for something
too far away to see... and I drove aimlessly, fighting to
see the traffic through my tears, wondering how long it
would be before my happiness comes... and knowing it will
be a long, long time coming.
If you're read my earlier entries, you know how wonderfully
special Suzie is to me, and what an amazing help she is to
me - BUT - I know and she knows that we're both hurting
deeply now. Neither of us want to build our next
relationships - with whoever it will be - on the rubble of
our current failing marriages.
I have a long, long journey to pass through this tunnel I'm
facing until I come out the other side whole enough and
strong enough to have a serious, healthy, lasting
But someday I'll be ready for my princess to come...