Friday, January 27, 2017

Why you should never, never, NEVER, never judge when you hear about an affair...and why you should be wary of participating in one.

PAST

I was feeling better about things than I have felt in a long, long time. I'd gotten over the neediness, the thought that if he'd only come back, it would be the best, best thing, better than anything else I could ever have in my life. I understood that I wasn't operating in entirely healthy mode when I entered that relationship, and I have spent the past two years learning all about that and trying to fix these problems in myself. I understood that he wasn't healthy at ALL when he entered this relationship...and hasn't been healthy at all his whole life. 

I understood. And I considered that a triumph. And I feel better than I have in a year and a half, even though the memory of this man never leaves me even for a minute.

That's progress, I suppose.

And then I was in the bathroom at Panera Bread today, and our song started playing.

We had more songs in four months than most couples have in forty years. We played each other music a lot. For his part, Chi had a "Ridley mix CD" which held a lot of songs that made him think of me. He played me a few once. The music was just like him--eclectic, different, indie, sad songs by artists I had never heard of before. Plaintive, ephemeral, sad. He'd said several times he was sure something would happen and this happiness would be snatched away. That he had the feeling he just wasn't fated ever to be happy in this life.

My songs were more upbeat. I played him a lot of Taylor Swift. But THE song, the one I hardly ever hear anywhere, the one I finally heard today, was "Say Geronimo" by Sheppard. I think it's in the promos for Zootopia; I don't know if it's in the movie. Our flagship song.


That was the one I played him after he left me the first time.

Before he moved out, I had the luxury of being the only voice in his ear besides that of the therapist I insisted he find once I realized how severely ACoA he is. After he moved out, a lot of other voices started talking. For one thing, Rory, of course, finally realized (after basically ignoring him for two decades) that they had serious problems. And their grown daughter, Hope, had a lot to say, too.


Hope took him to breakfast the morning after he moved out and lobbied him not to leave. It wasn't fair, she said. They'd been married thirty-five years, and hadn't really talked for twenty.


Hmm, okay, but I had to point out to Chi the sort of treatment Rory had been handing him ever since he had started trying to tell her they had serious problems. Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. If I ever treat any man that way ever in my life...shoot me.

He was afraid she'd manipulate him back into the marriage again and then start her behavior all over again. She'd done it before, he said. She'd do just enough, in previous years when he'd complained about her near-constant neglect, to keep him, then go right back to her old ways yet again. He didn't trust her. 

I asked him, Do you trust her now? Can you trust her? Because I can't carry on a full-blown affair with a married man. The only reason I'm still here is that you moved out, and you're planning to file for divorce. If you start counseling with her, I have to say goodbye.

And I didn't want to. I really didn't want to.

After that conversation, I played him that song. 

He told me he really didn't want to fix things with Rory. His therapist asked him, if it wasn't for his daughter, would he be thinking about marriage counseling at all. He said no.

In two days, he was back.

                                   ****

Now I'm hearing that song in the bathroom at Panera Bread. And what comes back to me is how silly, how unrealistic, what a child I was. I was the conquering hero, saving him from Bad Old Rory. Who knew why she was acting the way she was? We only knew one thing: It was bad. Real bad.

And I was the one who saw he was ACoA, who knew enough to insist he find himself a therapist, who talked him down over the phone on one of the worst nights of his life (I won't even say where Rory was, only that he'd been going around the house crying all week; she didn't even notice and had left town). I was the one who showed him he was lovable and sexy--and he believed me! This tall, handsome, sharp, smart, successful, sweet, sexy guy believed in himself again. And I had done that. While she was still acting like a world class horse's ass.

I was going to win this fantastic guy, Rory would get what she deserved, and we would be happy ever after!

                                   ****

When you first enter a relationship where one party is already in a relationship with someone else, it always looks simpler than it is. 

By the same token, when you first hear that someone you are close to has cheated on their longtime spouse, it always looks simpler than it is.

Trust me on this one: You never, ever, ever, 

                                      ever

ever, ever, ever,

        EVER

see it the way it REALLY IS 

with your first damn glance.


Or your second.


Or your THIRD.


Trust me on this one. Really.

I'm about to prove it to you.

Are you ready?? 

(coming next week...)
 

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