Difrent's Detachment - Attempts at It, Anyway

[DifRent]

So, in the midst of what has turned out to be a pretty positive weekend, an interesting dynamic seems to have emerged between WW and me... wondering what folks think...

Before I left the house for my "road trip" yesterday, I heard a message on the home voicemail from our property manager about some issues with one of our rentals. Not knowing if WW had gotten a call on her cell, I mentally noted that I'd send her a message once I got to my mom's.

I sent that message from my computer on Skype, and she responded with, "Ok, what's the issue?" And then, "Can I call you? You seem not to answer my calls these days." A refrain I've heard often enough, but she's not wrong - I often don't answer her calls because she calls at times, like when I'm at work, when I can't answer!

I went to get my phone to see, yep, she'd called, and I didn't answer. But that's because it was charging in the other room. So I called back and the conversation began with, "I know you're upset and you don't want to talk to me, but sometimes we have things we need to talk about and..."

I cut her off to say, "I only don't answer the phone when I don't hear or see that you're calling."

Which is, well, MOSTLY true.

So we discussed our business in a very civil manner. She asked if I was home. I said no.

"Do you need anything from me?" she asked...

I said there was nothing I needed, thanks. And we hung up. But I did text her back to say, "You know, I don't need this. But I sure do miss your Albanian pizza..."

Not sure why I felt compelled to send that. Got no response. I didn't care.

So I was wondering if she'd be here when I got home today. Got here around 4 and she wasn't here, and I checked my emotional response. Truly, I didn't care. If she had been here, I would have been fine. Since she wasn't, I was also fine. First time I haven't felt a certain dread or pit of loneliness either way.

But after I got settled, I sent a text. "Hey. Call me."

Five minutes later, she did. "Hey, what's up?"

Me: "Ah, nothing. I just wanted to prove that I do answer the phone when I see you're calling."

This got a good laugh out of her - and her stoic and cold defenses of late seemed to melt. "How's your day going?"

Me: "Fine, thanks. Yours?"

WW: "Good. Are you home?" (This is the second most asked question of late, asked when she isn't here, right behind, "Where are you going?" when she is here.)

Me: "Yep, just got in." I heard water running in the background. "Are you taking a shower?"

Another chuckle. "No, no... I'm washing greens for my salad. I came by the house earlier today and the arugula in our garden looked so good I just had to pick it."

I could be projecting, but I'm pretty sure the only reason she came over in the first place was to see if I was here. She realized I wasn't, picked some greens, and left.

Me: "Oh yeah? I haven't been tending the garden, you're the gardener after all. Thought everything looked a bit sickly last time I checked, but we've gotten some rain and even the roses out front are looking better. Glad the greens looked healthy today. Too bad you didn't hang out here a bit longer. I brought back some freshly picked homegrown tomatoes for you."

(She LOVES tomatoes, especially homegrown.)

WW: "Oh yeah?" Again, am I projecting that I heard disappointment in her voice? Disappointment that she missed me, or that she didn't get the tomatoes??? "Where did you get them from?"

ME: "You don't know them. But it's good stuff. I'll save it for you."

WW: "Well, I was thinking... I'm dogsitting this weekend through Wednesday. But I'd like to do Albanian pizza one of these nights."

Hmm. So my comment sat with her...

WW: "How about Tuesday?"

ME: "Uhhh... well, no. Can't do Tuesday. I'm pretty booked."

Actually, very true.

WW: "Okay. Maybe Monday?"

ME: "Tomorrow? Sure. If you want to."

I had already asked my sons to come for dinner, so if she's doing the cooking, even better... it will be a "family" night with her stepsons, aka "tenants." They'll be game.

WW: "Okay then, Monday. But if we can't do it Monday, another time."

Fine. I've got steaks to grill tomorrow if she decides not to follow through.

Me: "Sure. I'll have some wine, but you might want to make the salad to go with it. You're the salad master. Plenty of greens in the garden, so I'm told."

She laughs again.

WW: "Yes, of course. Well, it was nice talking to you."

Me: "Yep, have a good night."

WW: "You too. Bye."


I was as detached as could be from the whole thing, but I think appropriately friendly and kind.

Been reading a bit on midlife crises lately and think I need to pop over to that board here and read more... the more I read, the more I think that's what's going on here. I'm dealing occasionally with my actual wife, and more often with a monster whom, I regret to admit, I've fed far too many times with my attempts at logic, persuasion, and discrediting the OW.

Today, I made a commitment to not get into one more argument, no matter how much I'm baited or tempted. I'm not going to think about the OW. In fact, after today's conversation, I see how much further we could actually be along in this sitch if I'd actually been doing the right things all along. The good news is, she's extremely vulnerable and impressionable and, I have no doubt, being run ragged by the OW. All of this works to the advantage of eventual reconciliation. No expectations, of course. But... in the end, this is what we hope for, right?

It also occurred to me: she's not staying here like she originally planned, not because of me or our dispute last week, but because the OW wanted her to be at her house and dogsit while she is away on whatever trip she's taking without my WW. I think my WW wanted to come home, to get away from that environment, to be somewhat at peace. Our conversation today proved such was possible... but no. She has to watch the dogs.

BTW... she hates dogs!!!!

So, I let her go on this journey. Time is my friend, no matter how things play out. Going to pour a glass of wine and head out to the porch to enjoy the sunset alone. I suspect there is a small part of her who, not happy about being alone (except for the dogs!) tonight, wishes she were here too.

Her loss. I am, after all, clearly the better option.