Hi, wooba. Hi, peace. Hi, believe. Thank you so much for being here. Believe6, you sound strong and reflective. I haven’t been able to summon my usual ability to sort out my thoughts or be positive. I’m still in the middle of a feeling storm, so I haven’t yet posted on your thread. I feel too lost at the moment myself to be of much help, but I am reading along.
Wooba, I don’t want to care but can’t help it either sometimes.
Originally Posted by peacetoday
they cant get from here to happy from leaving a M
Originally Posted by wooba
His happiness has nothing to do with you. You didn't cause his unhappiness, nor did the absence of you contribute to his happiness.
I needed to be reminded of that. But why does it appear so much the opposite?
For some reason I wasn’t even thinking about replay, but that makes sense. Otherwise it appears as if the biggest difference in his life is that I am pretty much out of it—from my limited vantage point, it appears he hasn’t changed anything fundamental or internal that might bring him happiness, it’s just the new friends, the different lifestyle. But I’m not completely out of his life, am I? Something is stopping him from taking another step to make that happen. Would it mess too much with his fantasy bubble? My head hurts when I try to imagine the way he must split his life into two—me at home in one compartment, the new life he’s living in another (our old life in some very far away compartment). I don’t think he’ll have a chance to actually miss me while I’m still here in the background of his days. Sometimes I feel like the clock—or his clock--doesn’t start until that happens, until I’m not in the background.
I know I am on my own clock and shouldn’t worry about his since I have no control over it. But my mind more often wanders to him and everything I miss now that he’s here. For the first time in a while, I ached to share a meal with him again tonight—just to sit across from him at the table and enjoy good food together. Since he’s been on the phone so often, I think about the way he would say “my wife” when he was talking to someone, about the love I used to hear in those words. I’m thinking about this time last year, and how I had no idea BD was approaching in a few months. It’s mind-boggling how much has changed since then—I can hardly conceive of it. It still feels unreal a lot of the time. More unreal with the pandemic, like I slipped into a parallel life somewhere along the way.
I’ve been angry and hurting and wanting to protect myself and avoid him, so maybe I’ve been a little quieter, a little less jokey than the first couple of days. This morning I chose to ask how his mom was coping with the virus in another state. Just because he’s not asking about my parents doesn’t mean I can’t ask about his. I can be angry that he’s not and and say nothing myself, or I can share my compassion and concern, which I do feel, for my MIL and ask after her. I would ask after any roommate’s family. He did ask after mine, but not in a way that felt genuine. Then again, he doesn’t show that he’s worried or afraid for his family or that he has any deeper feelings about the pandemic. I asked after his work, which I know has been stressful for him, as it always was. He talked a bit about it, and I could hear the anger and frustration in his voice even as he was trying to minimize how much it was actually affecting him.
I’m thankful today was quiet up until now. I swing from crying in my room and feeling like I’m falling apart, how can I get through the next hour, I’m out of strength, to calm. Probably because I’m exhausted. Oh no--the phone call is starting and he’s been drinking, so I think it will be time for headphones on my part. He’s got a couple of edibles now too and he’s definitely louder, happy and loopy, so much so that the headphones will only muffle. I guess it’s easier to be happy (temporarily) when you’ve got some help!
