MORE nice words. Let me clarify, though, that when I say "selfish" I mean doing what is good for me. If it happens to be good for others, produces a Gooditude Externality, well that's okay, too. But if it's not good for me it can't be good for S and D. So selfish. Or self-focused. Or self-referential. Oh what the hell? It's All About Meeeeeeeee!
---Update---
As we were whispering in the dark last night / this morning, between sobs Herself asked one of those rhetorical-but-not-really-rhetorical questions wives seem to take a class in asking.
"How can you say you care? You don't act like it."
On cross-examination, Herself explained that she was feeling ever-more alone, ever-more-likely to remain alone, feelings made manifest by the apparent lack of interest in her by real Other Men, as opposed to the benighted Signore Schmuckatelli, whom Herself seems to despise now even more than I ever did, and my evident attraction to, and attraction for, Other Women.
{Now lest ye get the wrong idea, I have in fact been "out" with several women. These aren't "dates," but we've been, as they used to say, "walking out." Interesting women who seem to think I'm a rather interesting fellow. Meals, chats, laughs, and perfectly-respectable-in-public fare-thee-wells. No "second" dates or anything like that. Herself seems to be turning them into Second Marriages for Smiley's Person, and I'm content to let her stew just that much about them -- I mean, I'm no Saint. A plateful of fresh Schadenfreude is an enjoyable thing every now and again. But betwixt you and me and the firewall, friends, they're really simple acts of human engagement that happen to cross gender lines. But they're good practice, just in case. Hope, after all, is not a plan.}
Well, says I, if you remember after our first big To-Do there in my office (cf, Thread 3 or so), you promised that you'd be open to the possibility that there is a future between us if and only if I'd be open to the possibility that "this" -- you, us -- is not really what I want. Do you remember?
"Yes."
So how'm'I going to know, if I don't walk-out with some ladies? You know me – it can’t be helped. Poor things are powerless -- I'm studly. Wattaryagonnado? {We both laugh.}
“I’m not. No one’s interested in me.”
Now you know that’s not true.
“What do you mean?”
Hey. Enough, okay? You’ve caught me looking at you.
“I don’t mean that way.”
I don’t either. And you know that, don’t you?
“Still. You're the only one. And that’s not the same as caring.”
I thought you said you weren't interested in that? You don't want "all that stuff."
(Deep breath) Are you asking if I care? Because if you are... I do care.
She pauses. "I would have thought you'd fight for it if you did."
SP's Thought Balloon: Whoa! What the h*ll was that? Anyone see where that shot came from?
(This is one of those Divorce-Busting Moments. [I think. Maybe. Is it? Hard to tell. It's dark in here. And I'm not wearing my glasses. Plus I'm distracted by having to constantly rearrange my bathrobe. I mean, you know, let's face it. I'm in bed. With WAW. Who doesn't sleep in much. There are certain, ah, "hydraulic" events that one cannot control which, though ordinarily quite happily experienced at this advanced age, nevertheless seem somewhat inappropriate in this particular context.]
(Okay, so it's time for Smiley's Person to deploy his forces. Sergeant Rock, move Easy 50 meters down that berm. Sergeant Fury, take your Howling Commandos over by that wall. Sergeant Bilko, have your people bring us up some extra ammunition. Sergeant Preston, you just go back to the Yukon -- this is War Between the Sexes, son, it ain’t Canada.
(Troops arrayed, Smiley’s Person touches his mojo. Black cat bone in a gris-gris bag. Got my mojo workin’. Will it work on you? He gets off the edge of the bed, comes around, and stands very close to WAW’s head, hands close to her body, as he leans in to her ear.)
Do you want me to fight for it?
“Well, yes. {Beat} Well. I mean. I did. You could have. You just let it go. But now. Well. I mean –“
What makes you think I haven’t been?
(Silence. WAW literally shudders and pulls the blankets close around her.)
Don’t be afraid. I’m not standing in your way. But don’t mistake my acceptance of things with a desire for those things. Do you follow?
“Yes. But what happens if I wind up alone?”
(Helloooooo, Deep End. Into your waters I plunge.) That’s a chance you’ll have to take. It’s Your Path, not mine. I’m not blocking the exits. You can leave. In a way I want you to. You’ve said that in spite of everything this is what you need. Okay – get what you need. I want you to know how it feels, the bad and the good. Maybe it will be the best thing you ever did. Hell, maybe it’ll be the best thing you ever did for both of us. Neither of us is going to know until we know. But you won’t ever really be alone. Because you’ll always know that there is one man who cares about you and who cares about what happens to you.
“Will I know that?”
C’mon, who are you trying to kid? You know that already.
“And if I know that, what happens if you’re not alone?”
Then, my friend, it will suck to be you.
(And Smiley’s Person kisses Mrs. SP on the forehead and sends her back to sleep.)
