Thursday, W asked me to take her out to dinner to discuss some things that were on her mind. She hastened to add that it wasn’t anything “bad” or negative, to which I replied that I wasn’t apprehensive in the least, having been dealing with our R in my own way (without elaborating about DB’ing). That evening, at dinner, she acknowledged that she had been acting strange and distant, and that it was deliberate on her part -- so that she could think things out clearly and without any outside input.
To make a long story short, she explained that for the last few years, she had been feeling trapped and smothered in our marriage, had lost her sense of personal identity, and was reaching out to try things on her own (no mention of EA, PA or OM). She told me that she is interested in starting some kind of a small business, that she was aware that I had been giving her a wide berth these last few months and that she appreciated that. She also said that she had thought things through and, as a result, would like to resume the marriage. I simply listened intently without commenting or editorializing. That night, she tried to initiate sex, but I politely begged off without explanation. We did, however, have sex last night.
Interestingly, I felt no jubilation or triumph at her decision, knowing that it could be reversed at any time; but, I was satisfied that my DB’ing seemed to be pointing us in the right direction. I am most aware that we’re at a delicate pass, and that progress will be made slowly and haltingly.
This morning, while watching “The Best Years of Our Lives” on TV, I was struck by the timeliness of the following exchange between Myrna Loy and her husband, Frederick March, in response to their daughter’s (Theresa Wright) assertion that they had the perfect marriage and had always been in love with each other:
ML: How many times have I told you that I’m sick and tired of you?
FM: How many times have I told you we’re all washed up?
ML: And how many times have we had to fall in love with each other again?!
