The Dichotomy of Good and Evil

I texted my husband yesterday to ask him if he meant it. If he really wanted me to find a new place, if he really wanted us to live apart.

He called me and told me he’d been thinking and no, he didn’t really mean it, but that he was really mad when he sent me that text the night before. He told me that he was really mad and didn’t know how else to get through to me because otherwise I just don’t listen to him. But I do listen to him, and I do hear him, I just don’t always know how to answer him.

So we talked. And talked. And talked. And texted. Then talked some more. I feel like my soul has been through an emotional ringer.

I think we’re just waiting to make it through the holidays before we implement any changes, or figure out what our next step is going to be.

He asked me yesterday morning why I was crying, and I told him ‘because I’m upset.” I admitted last night that it was because I was completely heart broken.

It’s pretty awful that he says he doesn’t like hurting me, yet he does it so frequently.

I admit also, that I might not be the easiest person to live with, so a lot of the time I understand his frustration. He’s also pretty anal about a lot of things. Not that that’s an excuse, but if we’re looking at all the sides of this, I can’t negate my part in it.

I told him I felt insecure about our relationship now, and that it really sucks that he’s going to pull out leaving me as a (last?) resort. I told him we both have to stop thinking about divorce every time things get really bad. I told him we need to communicate more, from the source, instead of holding it in and blowing up when we’re mad.

When he came home from work last night we made love. We kissed a lot, and looked into each other’s eyes and I cried at the thought of losing him. He held me close and told me he didn’t want to lose me and that spending the day not wearing his wedding ring felt really weird.

After dinner we curled up and watched a movie. He sat on the same couch as me and I put my feet up on him. He held my hand, and when I wept at the end of the movie, he looked at me and told me I was his best friend, which of course, made me weep harder.

We went to bed snuggled into each other, warm and cozy and secure.

However, now in the stark light of day, I can’t help but wonder when the shit’s going to hit the fan again. When I’m going to do something that will throw him over the edge. When he’s going to do something that’s going to send me over the edge.

For all my talk of leaving him, or us not being compatible, I realized yesterday when I was about to lose him, that I wanted him more than ever. That I didn’t want to imagine a life where he was cold to me, where we would freeze our hearts to each other and carry on with our chins up for the children’s sakes. I don’t want us to divide our things, and have short, strained conversations. I don’t want to imagine him with another woman, enjoying himself starting a new life with someone else, someone who isn’t me. I don’t want to give up on what we have, because when it’s not bad, it’s pretty wonderful.

Oh, the dichotomy of good and evil…sad and happy.



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