I've been wanting to check in here (warning: long post), and of course Wooba’s post echoes somewhat how I’m feeling these days. Work is busy—everyone on our small team has been working hard to meet the deadlines for our current project. I’ve been able to pick up a few overtime hours, and it’s been satisfying to really see what we can do when we all pull together. I have also been thinking about a what’s next question—do I have career goals/work goals? I really like your commitment to staying present, wooba, and I appreciated your thoughts on work and life as well DnJ. I’ve been able to return to writing on the weekends now—it’s the least time I’ve ever had to write, but I’m making it work. And after nearly two years away from writing, it feels wonderful to be able to do it finally. It’s like I can be my full self again.
Then I read Eagle’s latest post—feelings creeping back, hope there again! That’s where I find myself today. One of those days.
I think I mentioned here at some point that last fall, when H’s anger continued (around the time he filed for an annulment), he at one point declared that he would not be filing taxes jointly this year. I suggested to H that would probably end up just costing more, not less as he expected. I stressed about that, figured out what I would need to withhold so as not to owe any money, consulted with a tax advisor, and accepted that H would do what he would do. I checked with H before I filed a month ago, just to make sure his plan was the same. I filed.
And I’ve mentioned H has seemed to process a lot of his anger—this year is different than the last 18 months or so. It feels like the chip on his shoulder toward me is gone.
Anyway, both notes are background for what happened this week. H went to file his taxes and was—you’ll never guess—aghast to find he would owe nearly four times what he would owe if we had filed jointly. He called me from the accountant’s to ask if, by chance, I hadn’t submitted my taxes yet. I told him I had. H of last year would have found a way to blame me. Instead, H admitted he should have looked into things and this was all his fault. He hung up.
I felt bad for him. I mean, it wasn’t an ungodly amount, but it would have wiped out my small savings. I googled just to see, and found out we could file an amended joint return so that he wouldn’t owe so much. Reader, maybe I should have just let him live out the consequences of last year’s anger and impulsiveness, lack of foresight. That was on my mind. But I also felt like if I could help him at no cost to myself (he would pay me back the refund I was owed and would pay his tax liability), why not? It felt like the right thing to do. I would have wanted him to do it for me, had the situation been reversed.
So I offered up the possibility. I talked to my IC afterwards briefly, and she appreciated that I factored my values into the decision, but also suggested it could also be a way of enabling him. Well, then I questioned my decision even more. I thought of what people might say here.
Fast forward to today—H set up another appointment with an accountant, said we could ride together if I wanted. I haven’t been in his car with him since shortly after BD. I drove myself. There was never any question H would pay for everything and make sure I received the refund I was owed (in writing too). That surprised me. His gratitude surprised me. We sat side by side for an hour, the longest since BD, and it was fine. Except the office ended up being right across from the place where we bought our wedding rings, so I was remembering that day so vividly, and then as I had to sign the line for “spouse” over and over on our joint returns, I cried. I don’t think he noticed—masks are good for that. He held the door open for me, walked out with me, thanked me again, and then hugged me. It didn’t seem like a, “I’m just so relieved not to pay more money!” kind of thing. He seemed to genuinely see that I cared and was offering a kindness. Like it was a small act of vulnerability on his part for him to hug me. I was so surprised. Never in a million years, I would’ve said. We both headed home in our separate cars, but first I cried. That hug. I wasn’t prepared, and I’ve been in a funk all day since.
Like, remember those feelings you put away, remember that hope? Still there! It’s hard to still care, to realize how much I still care. Sometimes I want to search until I find some love letter he’s written someone else, something, anything, that would maybe erase the rest of my hope, because when I am reminded it’s there, it’s painful. It’s sad because I miss him and I can’t do anything about it but accept that things are the way they are. I don’t have expectations that he will change—oh, geez, though, just realized I have expectations that he won’t change. He’s just so good at distracting himself.
Cue return of all the feelings, all the stories that serve me and all the ones that don’t, like if he’s dating someone else now, he must’ve never really loved me, of course he’d want to be with someone else, SSM, etc etc. I told myself that those stories might be back temporarily, but I don’t have to believe them. (Helpful to read DnJ’s response to Eagle re: OW/OW2 in this regard.)
Cue feelings of I don’t want to be signing any more official papers that remind me our M is over. (Why? What does it change? I know. And yet seeing my name next to “spouse” on tax forms made me cry!)
Anyway, that’s where I’m at. Feeling weird. Feeling tender. Baking a cake this weekend. Love to everyone here!
