1. She is obviously desperate. For something or about something. Or both.
To what extent should I rely upon evaluations made (declared?) while the Crazy Train is taking on water at Desperation Gulch?
2. She's extremely jealous. A first. Never saw that before, ever.
To what extent should I exacerbate that jealously by continuing to dally with Miss Someone?
3. Miss Someone -- she's Miss Someone. She's some Someone WAW told me to "got out and find." She's a fine Someone. A nice, light Romance. No past. No future. No obligations. No expectations.
Do I want to give that up, happy-making as it is right now, against the possibility that WAW will get off the Crazy Train immediately after?
4. Feelings.
What do I feel about/for WAW right now? More about than for. Anger. Resentment. Befuddlement. Irritation. Boredom. Anger.
"Speak when angry and you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret." Ambrose Bierce said that. So what do I make of "decide when angry...."
If I decide to tell WAW to f*ck off, that's almost certainly The End. If I decide to tell WAW "come home," and she remains WAW Herself -- as she certainly seems to be right now -- all this progress is squandered.
5. Ownership.
WAW has, in a loosey-goosey way, taken ownership of some things. Signore, for example. Yet I'm the one "wrecking the home" and destroying the kids' "hopes and dreams."
To what extent do I credit her with any growth when she's trying to push Ground Zero onto my side of the balance sheet?
6. Petard, hoist-by-own-ship
As ye sow, so shall ye reap. Chickens, home to roost. SP, I don't want you. SP, go find someone new. SP, if it happens that we get involved with someone while we're separated [notice the clever use of future subjective while she's banging Signore], that will be okay -- no harm, no foul. SP, I have no feelings for you as a man. SP..... Hey! Wait! What do you think you're doing, doing what I told you to do?
To what extent do I consider this "return" sincere and not (a) driven by jealousy or (b) driven by fear or uncertainty or (c) driven by her abandonment by Signore? What assurance is there that this is an "actual" return and not just a 7th-inning stretch, and once she's recalibrated we're back to the races?
7. Work, doing The
Apparently I'm a piece of sh*t in bed. Apparently I've never pleased her once, once in 22 years. To what extent do I want to subject myself to that? Just how many hands high can a horse be before you can't climb back up on it? Do I want to "save" the M and live with decades more of sexual dissatisfaction? What guarantee do I have that SHE is willing to do The Work? Or is this going to be All SP, All The Time?
8. Dependency, co- and other kinds
You will recall that I babysat the kids over at WAW's place the other day so she could have an individual session with Fab MC#2. I've tried hard not to be critical of her maternal skills, though she is deeply self-critical, borderline self-loathing about them.
But. Deep sigh. I drag the stuff the kids will need the next day over to her place. I open the fridge. 2 unopened containers of tomatoes, moldy. One 2-week-past-date loaf of bread. 1 quart of milk, 1 week past expiration. 3 bottles of water. Jar of salsa. Something wrapped in tin-foil. A pack of AAA batteries. 7 cans of diet soda.
Okay. She hasn't had them. Fair enough. But she knew they were coming over that day. Weeks in advance.
I'd lent her a mini-fridge when she first moved out until her new full-size could be delivered. "You can take the little fridge," she e-'s. Open the mini-fridge. Unplugged for a month. Something growing inside of it. I don't take it.
"Can you look at the light fixture in the bathroom? It hasn't worked for weeks, and I don't know what to do. I was going to call an electrician."
Look at the light fixture. Bulb is burned out.
She is unequipped for life on her own. Is that to be my life? Because it was the life I had, remember, the Loyal Househusband. And it didn't signify. It brought me the Bomb. Am I really going to back there? Is that who I am now? That's what I have to look forward to?
9. Rush -- what's the? When she was swinging in Signore-ville, we had allllll the time in the world. She'd move out on her schedule; she'd file on her schedule; we were "technically separated" and "on our own" anyway -- what was the big deal if she lived here a couple more months?
Now? Decide! Decide! Decide! Decide! Rescue Me! Rescue Me From Myself!
10. She cheated. She has no remorse. She lied. She feels bad because she got caught. She's got a focal point for her rage, now, Miss Someone -- the "professional homewrecker" who's probably smarter than WAW, sexier than WAW, better than WAW in bed, and who the kids will probably love and the 4 of us will be such a happy family living in Europe.
This is it? That's her now? How can I "take back" what I don't recognize? How can I "rebuild" with someone I don't necessarily know I'd want to build with in the first place?
Now time is of the essence, so it's Take Me As I Am? Is she so afraid of Who She Is that she thinks by being rescued she'll change? She'll be her "old self"? And what if she won't be? What if this is Her, Herself -- this is her post-D self?
I'm not a Jesuit. I don't do leaps-of-faith.
I need to know it; I need to see it. I won't believe it until I experience it. And what I'm experiencing is....blechh.
