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Mixed two early '70s cultural tropes there but whattareyagonnado?

So as I posted above-above, there was an agonizing telcon precipitated by an agonizing early morning encounter.

I am awake early and at the computer. This a.m. I was reading various documents on the treatment complications of the cancer for which I am undergoing tests. Trying very hard to keep the PMA -- another snake on the brain, Coach -- and just gathering information. Not panicking. Not enough info for that.

W comes in. "Good morning. I'm leaving."

Okay. Have a good day. Drive safely.

"What's wrong?"

Now SP is not in a particularly chipper mood. Nothing's wrong; I'm just reading a bit here.

This precipitates a three-round final elimination March Madness triple-crown What's Wrong/Nothing/No, What's Wrong/I Said Nothing. "You're reading about me, aren't you?"

[N.B.: W seems to believe that I have magickal computing powers that allow me to intercept all packets going to the router and decode them, in real time, via my amazingly agile cheap 13" laptop.]

Finally I throw down my pen in frustration, swing the monitor in her direction and say, You're right. It's all about you. Here, read it. It's all about you.

W reads, gasps, and bolts from the room. Okay. I admit it. That wasn't cool. But damn!

So feeling guilty, I write a brief e-mail apologizing for the tone, telling her I was pushing my Stuff onto her plate and that wasn't fair -- she's got enough on her plate.

I've heard her say that she feels huge guilt over the children, fear of the future, fear of being without love in the future, guilt about hurting me ("it would be so much easier if you were a bad guy, but you're not; you're just not my guy anymore" -- which is a really cruel thing to say, if you think about it), uncertainty about the money, and so forth; and I say that I would imagine that all of those negative feelings are even more confusing when balanced against a kind of excitement about what the future might hold. So there's not enough information to add this to your worries. So I'm sorry about that.

10 minutes later, the reply. "I take exception to you describing me as 'excited' about this."

And a reply: Fair enough, I apologize for that. I didn't mean to project. From my point of view, it would seem to be a weird mix of sadness and excitement -- who knows where you might go?

And a call. Reiterating the exception. Expanding on the exception. And then it gets ugly.

"I wouldn't have as much on my plate if you'd just tell me what your intentions are about the money."

35 minutes of me beating my head on the desk, crying, not believing that right now, in the middle of all this, I should be doing her a favor by putting a price on 22 years of togetherness, 18 years of marriage, and 2 children. That can't be what this is about.

"Money is all divorce is about."

Well that was it for me. I had to get ready for a meeting at the shop. And I just couldn't process any more.

But when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

En-route to the shop, a cell phone call. Hello?

"Hi, it's me." Okay. "I want to apologize for that discussion."

(Now this is a first. This does not compute.)

You don't have to apologize; I started the whole thing with the excitement issue.

"No, I do have to apologize." W continues that, in fact, it's bigger than money. It's not about money. The love, the good times, the happiness. Not about money. And W is crying. And I'm crying.

So what to do, what to do? Desperately need to talk to DB Coach, but next appointment 6 days away.

So I listen and hear and affirm. I accept the apology and tell her it's a very nice thing to hear and I know it was hard to do that and I appreciate it.

"You don't have to tell me your private business because of...where we are. But I would be there for you. Just like I would be for any friend."

Thank you, that's nice of you to say. But you said it yourself -- we're on our own, now. There's no "we" in this situation anymore. Just me.

And she cries some more. "I would take care of you. I would take care of the kids while you got well."

And then it came. And time reversed and I entered a black hole inside of a vortex surrounded by a time warp.

"I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I do love you." (Just not that way, presumably?)

And the phone is quiet. And she is crying quietly. And I don't know what to do because I'm crying and I can barely see and I'm driving 65 miles per hour.

And I don't know what to say because I know if I open my mouth I'm going right back to that terrible night 2 months ago when the D-bomb exploded in my living room, and I did all the things you're not supposed to do, and if I do that my DB'ing is back to Square One and I'll be pursuing and chasing and not being mysterious or dim or dark or detached or manly or...

And I did it anyway. I said, "I love you, too."

And she was quiet. And I had to get off, I had to stop the train, I had to stop my mouth, I had to stop the roller-coaster because I wanted off, I couldn't speak another word or I'd crash and die and the kids would be sad.

So I simply said, There's a lot I want to say, but I just can't right now. Can we sit down and talk? I mean, can we just sit down together and talk?

And she said in a very small voice, "Okay." And I said, Okay, and hung up the phone.

--------
So now what? What do I say? What don't I say? I know what I want to say, what I want more than anything to say, but.... It's been hours now. Perhaps she's put her face back together. Perhaps she's banished those weaknesses. Perhaps the wall is intact. Perhaps she just feels sorry for me.

What do I do?

All that I touch, and all that I see, and all that I taste, all that I feel; and all that I love, and all that I hate, and all I distrust, and all I save...and all that is gone, and all that's to come, and everything under the sun is in tune. But the sun is eclipsed by the moon.

Smiley - this is a rare step into the advice highway for me...

...you don't say any more than you have...

You continue doing what you've been doing...and leave her to process everything - in this madness one person needs to be the constant...the rock...to offer to hold the compass...

And to maintain honour and dignity in the face of everything that going on...

If anything has got me back to where I am now its compassion and friendship...2 basic human qualities we are all able to show to most people - but seem to desert us when we're dealing with spouses who don't want us any more, yet who we desperately want to win back...thats one tough situation for negotiators to deal with!

Best - GFI

SP:

Huge, enormous, giant hugs and a big old Italian smackeroo on the cheek: MMMWWWWWWAAAAAAHHHHH!

In that call, you and Mrs. SP were experiencing intimacy on common ground. The real, raw deal. AMEN. GOOD. You got there.

You better not have cancer, dammit. When will we know?

I can't advise you on your "talk," but I think the next move is hers. Honesty is rarely a bad idea, unless it is something unproductive like "You're ugly."

I hope you're OK, SP. You've had a rough run.

Lucky

P.S. Pink Floyd may not be a good idea when you're in a bad, bad place. Perhaps something a little lighter? ; )

Love the Pink Floyd quote. So what do you do?

Honestly? Maybe you would do better with letters. Problem with conversation is it's too uncontrolled. Flies off in directions, never goes where it's directed. OK. She pushed. You didn't want to talk about C, but she pushed until you showed her. Then it took a while to filter in, until she realized you weren't just doing medical research, it was personal. So now she is maybe on the same page as you. Maybe. So, truth be told communication is the name of the game. Can you do it without losing control? Not sure.

Usual rules: talk only about yourself. Do NOT use the word "you". Talk about feelings or facts. No, "I think that", or "I feel that", or even "I believe that". But you can say, "I feel sad, or lonely, or frightened, or whatever adverb is truthful for you. But NO "you said this, you did this, you are this...." In fact there is no need to tell her anything about herself. She is the authority on that topic. And vice versa, she should not be telling you about you, because, you already know about you. You can fill in the blanks about you.

And most of all. Stick to the topic. Don't talk on and on. Keep in short. You want to talk about health, fine, health it is. Not visits to other cities, not money, not everything under the sun. Because, everything under the sun is NOT in tune.

Oh, and by the way, call her what you will, you are very lucky. There is a warm human being with a heart under there.

What a turn of events...

Some here are getting warm fuzzy feelings about this. I say let her do most of the talking if you're going to talk. But don't EXPECT anything. In fact be prepared for more of the same; that way you're not disappointed.

I truly hope it's a good sign; but I've been down this road before with my W and IMO it's early yet.

Hope I'm wrong

And I pray it's not cancer

Yes, ditto what Tommy Boy said. Hate to see her reel you in a little, you let it all out, and then her push you away again.

Will keep my fingers crossed for the cancer thing (and the marriage!), although I will tell you this. In our department, of the last 8 people working there, four have had cancer and one more has had a scare. Both women had double masectomies. Their advice is this. DO NOT WORRY YOUR PRETTY LITTLE HEAD ABOUT ANY OF IT UNTIL YOU KNOW FOR 100% SURE WHAT YOU ARE DEALING WITH. You don't worry about speculation, or anything else until you know for SURE. You spend that time PRAYING instead.

Good luck.

Melissa

And as usual...excellent words from the DB crowd. What a fine bunch of people you are.

In reverse order:

Melissa: You're absolutely right. I'm evaluating. Gathering information. One day at a time. And yes, not going to get reeled in.

Married: Concur. Absolutely. In fact, by the time W got home last night it was more of the same. The morning never happened.

Jag: Just another turn on the roller-coaster perhaps....

Sara: I never doubted for a minute what was under her WAW suit. Just doubted that I'd ever see "her" again. And still do, to be honest.

I think Schmuckatelli is next in line for that honor.

And I've decided to forgo the discussion in its entirety. I don't see it getting me closer to the goal, and I don't want to come off as feeling sorry for myself or trying to leverage what is at the moment only a health scare into some kind of guilt reconciliation trip.

Lucky: Thanks for the buss, and it was nice indeed to feel almost like a...well, to feel. You know.

But I must disagree with you on a far-more-important point -- it's never a bad time for Messrs Pink and Floyd. Not since the day I first bought DSOTM at the "Swollen Head" record and head shop in 19-seventy-ought-four.

Ah, these kids today with their fancy digital eye-pad-whosiwatsis. I was talking with a young man at the shop the other day and discussion came around to music, and I asked him which albums had really been important to him growing up, and he said, "What's an album?" Oy.

GFI: Sound advice indeed, and advice I will follow.

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As I say, by the time W got home it was back-to-the-usual.

Oh, but how exciting, some new dresses came in the mail today from Big Ticket Department Store. SP: You don't wear dresses. W: Oh, they're for my trip. SP: Ah. Well. Goodnight then.

On the other hand, she did invite me to a party she'd been invited to at the home of a friend of hers (but a mere acquaintance of mine). But he's connected, so perhaps she just thinks it will be a way for me to get a better job and take less of her money? Argh. There I go again. Sorry, Coach.

*Sigh*