Becca, I don't know what I can do, or I would have done it. I could issue an ultimatum, and I am sure he would leave. No one can tell him how to live his life, he will buck that with everything he's got. I don't have enough pieces in place yet to handle that, yet. I know that sounds unemotional, but after all, this is a business marriage at this stage, that is what H told me he wanted 20 months ago, and that is what he worked it into. Sadly, it is even a poor business marriage.
I don't know the status of his R with BOW. He never ever talks about her, even when she comes up in conversation with other friends and I am present. I do know, the last few nights, when H and I have had eye contact, he does not look happy. He used to have the deepest blue sparkling eyes, there is no sparkle. It struck me last night. Then I started wondering when the last time was I saw the sparkle, and he does when we tickle/wrestle. Is he unhappy with BOW? does he want to end that and can't? I don't know. Sometimes, I get the feeling he would like something more from me, but if I do he recoils and backs away. Like touching his leg with my leg the other morning. It was spur of the moment, but it took every ounce of courage I had to do that, and for one second it felt good, and the next second it was gone. I think, I know, it is not healthy for me to speculate on what he might or might not want. In fact, I can't go back to letting myself think and obsess over everything he does or doesn't do. I can't change him, he has to change himself. I believe, finally, I am understanding what I need to do for me to survive this stage we are on, the stage of life we are living. It's taken me way too long to figure this out, that it's about me, not about him. I never said I was the smartest horse in the herd, but I've sure got stamina and endurance for the ride of my life.
Finally!! someone wants to know my pet chicken story! We used to have chickens, and one night a batch of kids that were visiting found a new baby chick in the haymow. They brought it to H, and we knew we couldn't just put it back, the mother hen wouldn't care for it anymore. So we got a cage, brought it in the house, and H taught it to drink and eat by tapping on the floor like a mother hen, and the baby chick would imitate that and eat. That chicken never knew he was a chicken. He heard the birds outside, and learned to sing like the birds. We named our pet chicken Peeps. He was very funny, and would run from room to room, get all ruffled up, jump for food, potty trained, jump on my lap and smooth every feather into place, and then look at me for approval. Peeps was so entertaining, friends would come over, and we'd call it the Peep Show, just watch this silly chicken entertain us. Life is simple here in the corn fields. Peeps would lay in front of the heater, and roll around and lay on his back - did you ever see a chicken lay on his back? hilarious! I even took Peeps to work on Halloween and called myself Little Bo Peep. Well, one day, Peeps was outside. He was always offended if we treated him like a chicken, he couldn't understand it, but we did make him go outside. We had a dog that loved to play with chickens, never drew blood, but just played too hard with them, and they'd get wet and cold and freeze. I'd come home and find another frozen chicken, put it in a box and bring it in the house to thaw out overnight, and put it back out the next morning. I said we had more chicken in a box than Colonel Sanders that winter. Anyway, Peeps and the dog met one Sunday afternoon, and I think Peeps had a heart attack. Really, not a mark or wet or dog slobber anywhere, but he must've saw the dog and fell over dead. H and I cried as hard as we ever cried over any other loss we'd had. Over a pet chicken. Unreal. We don't have chickens anymore. So, that's my chicken story and I'm stickin' to it!!
Moral of the story, I wouldn't give up that time I had with my pet chicken, even though the end was horribly painful. Eventually, the pain goes away and you remember the best of times we had together.
Live your life while you are still living. Riding the trail less traveled.
We used to have chickens, and one night a batch of kids that were visiting found a new baby chick in the haymow. They brought it to H, and we knew we couldn't just put it back, the mother hen wouldn't care for it anymore. So we got a cage, brought it in the house, and H taught it to drink and eat by tapping on the floor like a mother hen, and the baby chick would imitate that and eat. That chicken never knew he was a chicken. He heard the birds outside, and learned to sing like the birds. We named our pet chicken Peeps. He was very funny, and would run from room to room, get all ruffled up, jump for food, potty trained, jump on my lap and smooth every feather into place, and then look at me for approval. Peeps was so entertaining, friends would come over, and we'd call it the Peep Show, just watch this silly chicken entertain us. Life is simple here in the corn fields. Peeps would lay in front of the heater, and roll around and lay on his back - did you ever see a chicken lay on his back? hilarious! I even took Peeps to work on Halloween and called myself Little Bo Peep. Well, one day, Peeps was outside. He was always offended if we treated him like a chicken, he couldn't understand it, but we did make him go outside. We had a dog that loved to play with chickens, never drew blood, but just played too hard with them, and they'd get wet and cold and freeze. I'd come home and find another frozen chicken, put it in a box and bring it in the house to thaw out overnight, and put it back out the next morning. I said we had more chicken in a box than Colonel Sanders that winter. Anyway, Peeps and the dog met one Sunday afternoon, and I think Peeps had a heart attack. Really, not a mark or wet or dog slobber anywhere, but he must've saw the dog and fell over dead. H and I cried as hard as we ever cried over any other loss we'd had. Over a pet chicken. Unreal. We don't have chickens anymore. So, that's my chicken story and I'm stickin' to it!! 
