Just doing my usual slide into evening sadness. Ignore me.
The question that haunts me, has haunted me, will haunt me, is this: It's her, right?
I mean, I'm really sorry I slid into depression and I didn't do dishes enough and I preferred to wash dishes in the morning than at night and at the end of a long day I wanted to relax at home rather than go up to the city and I was shy at parties and I couldn't discuss scientific research with PhD students. But I was really willing to address those issues.
The ones that mattered, though: making her feel secure, making her feel special, making her feel desirable, making her feel loved, making her feel attractive. I thought she knew. She didn't.
So, she gets involved with OM as a way to rescue her self-esteem, to jump-start her career. Realizes it's a mistake but won't return to me. I pander to her whims and appear to be a sop. So she strikes out alone - "I don't need anyone to be happy." But she misses our conversations, and now she wants someone to rely on.
So what happens next? I really don't know. Everyone I know thinks we're incredibly weird. "Divorcing people just don't DO this, they don't ACT like this" they say. Maybe not. So I'm waiting for a bolt of lightning? That's what happened last time. But why do I think this is a firm foundation that could last another 40 years? I don't - that's the hard part. I'm realizing that, with all my faults and failures, I'm the foundation because I'm the consistent one. She has to rely on me, and she doesn't realize how much.
You don't realize what you've lost until it's gone.
I think this is right. This is what seems right. But maybe I'm wrong...
