Breathe (This Too Shall Pass) Pt. 4 of 4
I used to get shot in the head 2-3 nights a week.
In my dream, which began as a nightmare, a tall blank faced figure would stand over me, sun beaming brightly behind its head as I laid in the street, not knowing how or why I ended up in that predicament. The asphalt was warm, not hot. It must've been early in the day or autumn. I never begged or pleaded. There was never any sound. The figure just stood there, over me. Slowly it's right arm would raise just enough so that the black 9 mm it held in its steady hand was aimed at me. I knew what was coming and as scary as it was to know my life was about to end, there was a peaceful calm that came over me. The figure squeezed the trigger. A flash of light. There was a burning sensation in the center of my forehead followed by pressure between my ears. I was dying. The figure stood there, faceless, watching the effects of its handy work that was sure to be repeated at least twice more in the nights to come. I felt my spirit get up out of my body stand on the sidewalk and look at the lifeless shell lying in the street. I turned to look at the figure hoping to get a better view of my assassin. It was gone. No one was on the street. No one was looking out of the windows of the homes that lined the street of this small town called Paris, Kentucky. It was silent. No barking dogs, no chirping birds, no wind, no sound of life in the distance. I stood there looking at my body knowing life had ended unsure of what to do or what was to come.
When my wife told me she wanted a divorce, I was blindsided, shocked. I suspected she was doing something on the side or hiding something from me but never did I think that we couldn't work it out. She was done. Nothing left to give and she made it abundantly clear that she didn't want to find any more messages between me and another woman. She also made crystal clear that she no longer cared what I did, I could resume my career if I wanted to do that, she was finished trying and even admitted that she had not been trying for the past 2 years. She was no longer happy. She wanted out without a custody battle. She was very calm, matter of fact: almost too calm. Her body language was standoffish as if she was expecting some sort of altercation. None was coming, I was floored. My life was ending. The peaceful calm I had experienced in my dream was nowhere to be found. My heart was pounding and my mind was racing. When would I get to see my son if she took him? Where would I find a new place to live? Was she seeing someone else? Who was it? How long had she been feeling this way? Why? Each of those questions were answered in a matter of fact tone. I could see my son daily if I wanted. She wanted to stay in our current place with our son because of its proximity to her job and his daycare. She wasn't seeing anyone else and had been feeling this way since March. It was May 1. The reasons were the messages she found between the ex and me two years prior and between J and me joking about old women. She also revealed that she felt we are too different and knew in the beginning we wouldn't last because of our age difference of 8+ years and her interest in smoking weed and going out and my lack of interest in those things.
I tried to match her calm by listening and letting her finish before cutting her off with questions or objections to accusations. I apologized for the messages. I had apologized time and time again for the messages between the ex and me. I had gone to therapy alone for months to detox myself of that person and relationship. I had gone out with my wife to loud crowded places even though I didn't feel comfortable because it wasn't about me. To me, it was about spending time with the woman I love and putting a smile on her face and joy in her heart. A little anxiety for a few hours was a small price to pay for that and I gladly paid for her; for us. When she told me she was going to stop smoking I told her to do it for herself, not for me. I didn't necessarily like that she smoked but it was never a deal breaker for me because she seemed to have a good handle on it and was able to pay her bills and function normally. She made sure to not smoke around me and was only high around me once. It wasn't a problem for her, it wasn't a problem for me. Yet, she chose to stop and now she wanted to restart.
When someone tells you they're leaving you after 6+ years and a baby because the two of you are too different, you expect the differences to be large in number and great in contrast. I asked for more examples of how my wife and I were different after she informed me that she wanted a divorce but she could only repeat, "we just are". Until that moment she had been impenetrable, nothing seemed to phase her and she had a calm dagger like answer for every question but that one. We went on to talk about how alike we are in contrast to how many differences there are between us. It didn't matter. She still wanted out.
We went to bed, the same bed, our son sleeping between us. As days and weeks went by that would be the sleeping arrangement. Our one year old son was a barrier preventing touch and intimacy in our once hot bed. There was a complaint from my wife at one time that our bed wasn't hot enough. I took that in and attempted to turn up the heat. We had a passionate moment on the couch 5 days after she told me she wanted to leave. I initiated it, which was something she said she needed more of from me. I enjoyed being more sexual and more overt in my advances. After that moment on the couch every attempt that followed was shut down. Did she not really want that? Was it not good? She told me that she didn't want to get confused or confuse me by having sex with me while still being unhappy and wanting to leave.
The weeks that followed were full of blatant disrespect and lack of care about me and my feelings. My wife would go out nearly every night and stay out until 11 PM or later. Friday and Saturday she would stay out until 3 AM or later. It got to the point that one night I got so frustrated with her behavior that I told her she might as well stay where she was since she seemed to want to be there more than at home with me and our son. She stayed. She came home the next morning and didn't tell me where she had been. The late late nights were always a mystery. She never told me where she was going or where she had been and there was one more occasion where she stayed out overnight. At least that time she was supposedly with her brothers.
Tension became so thick that the air in our living space lacked oxygen and being around each other had become a chore. She wanted out. She said it, she showed it. I decided to go speak to an attorney to prepare myself in the event that I would be served with divorce papers. The attorney listened to my side of the story and instead of finding ways to prepare a case to defeat my wife and take my money, the attorney suggested we go to counseling and implement a separation schedule to get a sense of what it would feel like to be separated. The attorney went on to say that they did not want to see me again because they hoped that my wife and I could work it out and believed that our relationship was not ready for divorce. We shook hands and before I left the office, the attorney wished me the best and charged me nothing for the consultation. I went home feeling hopeful and charged knowing that someone who makes a living off of helping couples divorce was actually rooting for my marriage to work. I spoke with my wife about the schedule and she agreed to it and also said that she was open to going to counseling. We would have to wait until our new health insurance kicked in before we could see a therapist but I was happy to hear that she was at least open to the idea.
As the days and weeks went by, we learned to live life according to the schedule. I would have our son Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights and she would have him the other nights. Sundays were set aside as a family day. That only happened the first week of the schedule. The weeks that followed, my wife would make a concerted effort to see to it that family time was her with my in laws and our son and did not include me. During this time I began to focus on being the best version of myself that I could be. If I was good that meant I'd be good for our son and he was the most important person in all of this. I began a daily practice of breathing and smiling and focusing on the here and now. Letting go of worry and the past was my solution to being stuck in a place of confusion and negativity. All that mattered was enjoying the moment with myself and my son and when the time came I would try to enjoy the moment with my wife. The latter was easier said than done. I found weed in our son's diaper bag, my wife reeked of weed one day when I came to pick up our son from daycare, she would pass our son off to her mom so she could go out and spend time with her friend A or go get high with her brothers. The final straw for me was her coming home high one Saturday afternoon. I took myself to watch the movie Hereditary just to get away from the feeling of disappointment and stress for a few hours. I left without saying goodbye to my wife. I had been on her about not saying it to me when she left and here I was being a hypocrite. While sitting in the theater waiting for the film to begin my wife texted me, "I don't know what your plans are but I think we need to separate ASAP". I agreed and let her know immediately. The movie began and I did my best to get away from my thoughts and feelings for a couple of hours.
The movie ended and I was asked via text if I was moving out or if she and our son were going to move out and find a new place to live. I didn't feel that she had the right to just take our son from me especially because of her recent behavior. I went home and found her youngest brother at the door wearing my shirt, her mom sitting on my couch and our son crawling on the floor. My wife came from the bathroom and asked if we could go for a walk to talk.
On the walk we discussed why I left without saying bye and how I contradicted myself by doing so. We discussed her weed use and the irresponsible placement of it in our son's diaper bag. We also discussed how she felt counseling wouldn't really work and she didn't see a reason to go. She wanted a non-contested divorce where we just split our belongings 50/50 and I move out and start all over and pay child support even though she was the one who wanted out of the marriage. After walking around the neighborhood for about 30 minutes we decided to go to counseling and that she would no longer bring weed around our son. We also agreed to handle our disagreements and emotions in a better way. Finally, we agreed that should we decide to divorce, there would be no big custody battle and that we both would do what is best for our son.
Effort was never an issue for me. I try hard in everything that I do. My marriage was no different. Were there some days when I tried harder than others? Absolutely, but I always tried to make it work. Even when I got to the point of honestly being okay with losing my life as I had known it of the past 6+ years, I made an effort. I still told my wife she was beautiful and that I loved her. I still rubbed her feet and asked her out to lunch. I never gave up but I did quit. I quit beating myself up. I quit allowing myself to not be loved. I surrounded myself with people who were objective and who loved me hard. If I was wrong they held me accountable but they showed me what I needed and I am forever grateful to that small group of angels. Thank you.
In the weeks leading up to counseling I went home to Kentucky to take some space and clear my head. The fresh air and quietude of small town life helped me recharge my batteries and re-center myself. If I was finished, how would I proceed? If I was not, what did I need to do to keep fighting for this life while salvaging my dignity and self-respect? I was ready to move on and start a new life and I was willing to give it one last try in counseling to say that I gave it everything I had to make my marriage work. I was ready and willing to accept the journey of either path before me. I went back to New York ready for whatever my wife had to throw at me. We had a trip planned. Were we still going?
Jamaica. The two of us were supposed to go together to a wedding. In April the deposit for the trip had been paid and all we had to do was buy plane tickets. With everything that had been going on, I wasn't sure if we were still going. The deposit was non-refundable but things were so bad that at this point that it appeared we were going to lose that money or go and try to not kill each other on the trip. Boy, was I in for a surprise! My wife informed me that she was still going but that I would not be going on the trip. She told me that she was going alone and I smelled the lie as soon as it left her mouth. She wasn't going to another country by herself, especially an island. She was either meeting someone there or taking someone in my place. Who was it and why was she lying about it? I did my detective work and found out that she was taking none other than her new BFF, A. Since my wife wouldn't tell me the truth, I thought maybe she'd tell the truth in counseling because after all, that's where the truth would come out, right? Wrong. She lied about it in counseling and I had to press her before she said that she was "sorta" going with someone else. I then called "bullshit" and she confessed that A would be going and when asked why, she said it was because she didn't want to be around me. When asked by the therapist if A was her lesbian friend my wife said, "No". She then became very emotional and said that A offered her the comfort that A wished she had when she was going through her divorce. A also convinced my wife that their situations were the same. A's ex husband was talking to another woman online and then cheated on A. I, on the other hand, was joking with my college friend about old women giving you cooties and worms and didn't see nor touch anyone other than my wife. Not similar at all, but thanks A.
Before the counseling session ended, the therapist asked my wife how much she loved me on a scale from 1 to 10. My wife said "1". ONE y'all! I have made my bonehead mistakes in our relationship and have owned them. I have flaws. I also help keep a roof over our heads, I help around the house with sweeping, doing laundry and making the bed, doing dishes, taking out the trash, dressing the baby in the morning, getting him ready for bed at night, rubbing my wife's feet, giving her massages, letting her be herself, supporting and encouraging her to get her second degree, telling her she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and meaning it, sometimes cooking dinner, taking her on dates, buying her flowers just because, listening to what she says and if I can, I try to make changes when asked of me, showing her I am beyond physically attracted to her: I desire her and crave her, doing things that take me out of my comfort zone to put a smile on her face, comforting her at night when she wakes up from a nightmare, and I could go on. A ONE?!
The therapist, after hearing my wife say this, decided that she would insult and disrespect me by calling me an asshole and "stupid" in order to make my wife feel as though she were on her side and would want to come back to therapy. Other than sleeping with a client, I'd have to say that was the worst decision she could have made at that time. I let it slide a couple times before I blew up and lost my cool. I felt pissed, attacked and didn't feel that the therapist was being objective at all. She wasn't, obviously, she was playing a mind game. I wasn't in the mood for that shit and let her know it. She asked my wife to leave the room and explained to me her intentions with which I still did not agree. She brought my wife back into the room and noticed that my wife had a look of concern on her face. My wife said that the look of concern was because she could see that I was mad: not crazy mad but angry. She wasn't concerned out of fear, it was the fact that her husband was upset and felt wronged. The therapist brought this to her attention and told us to observe our body language and our position in relation to one another on the sofa. We were encouraged to inch closer to each other and to touch/hug and we did so (with apprehension on my part due to the numerous rejections I had been experiencing when trying to touch my wife). It felt so good to hug my wife again and tell her that I loved her; that I wanted it to work out so that we could be a family again. We both shed tears at different times during the session and my wife finally let me know that she never forgave me for contacting the ex 2 1/2 years ago. I don't know if she forgave me in that moment or when she will, if she ever will. It was good to finally know how she felt about my interactions with my friends and made me more conscientious of my word choice even when joking. There are certain things I no longer need to joke about as a married man and I have learned that during this very trying time. Now, I must apply what I have learned to my life.
We left the session that night and decided we have a marriage worth fighting for and are willing to put in the effort to make it work. Time will tell if we are truly meant to be together as a married couple but I do believe that we were meant to come together if for no other reason than to create our son who is the light of my world. Our next session has yet to be scheduled but we plan to go back as a couple and as individuals. Praying that we each go to therapy means nothing unless we each put in the work necessary to be healthy and happy. That's what you sign up for when you vow to love and honor your spouse for better or worse, through sickness and health 'til death do you part. Loving someone, truly loving someone takes work. It's a verb, an active thing that requires fine attention to detail and elasticity because as long as you breathe life into it, love will change. There will be times that your love feels enormous and as vast as outer space or as small as the eye of a needle. Some days your love will burn hot and other days it will cool but it is up to you and your partner to make sure the pilot remains lit. To smote a flame you take away its life source: oxygen. Love is no different you have to keep breathing life into it, its oxygen being your effort. It's so easy to give up as soon as things are uncomfortable or don't go the way you planned, especially these days. Running from the challenges marriage presents is almost encouraged as divorce is so easy to get but not as easy to endure. Easy is a result of a process that involves someone or something working hard enough to make easy possible. Our marriage, like anything in life, can be whatever we choose to make it. As long as we remember to breathe and stay in the moment with each other we can get through this hard time knowing that this too shall pass.
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| courtesy of newscientist.com |
In my dream, which began as a nightmare, a tall blank faced figure would stand over me, sun beaming brightly behind its head as I laid in the street, not knowing how or why I ended up in that predicament. The asphalt was warm, not hot. It must've been early in the day or autumn. I never begged or pleaded. There was never any sound. The figure just stood there, over me. Slowly it's right arm would raise just enough so that the black 9 mm it held in its steady hand was aimed at me. I knew what was coming and as scary as it was to know my life was about to end, there was a peaceful calm that came over me. The figure squeezed the trigger. A flash of light. There was a burning sensation in the center of my forehead followed by pressure between my ears. I was dying. The figure stood there, faceless, watching the effects of its handy work that was sure to be repeated at least twice more in the nights to come. I felt my spirit get up out of my body stand on the sidewalk and look at the lifeless shell lying in the street. I turned to look at the figure hoping to get a better view of my assassin. It was gone. No one was on the street. No one was looking out of the windows of the homes that lined the street of this small town called Paris, Kentucky. It was silent. No barking dogs, no chirping birds, no wind, no sound of life in the distance. I stood there looking at my body knowing life had ended unsure of what to do or what was to come.
When my wife told me she wanted a divorce, I was blindsided, shocked. I suspected she was doing something on the side or hiding something from me but never did I think that we couldn't work it out. She was done. Nothing left to give and she made it abundantly clear that she didn't want to find any more messages between me and another woman. She also made crystal clear that she no longer cared what I did, I could resume my career if I wanted to do that, she was finished trying and even admitted that she had not been trying for the past 2 years. She was no longer happy. She wanted out without a custody battle. She was very calm, matter of fact: almost too calm. Her body language was standoffish as if she was expecting some sort of altercation. None was coming, I was floored. My life was ending. The peaceful calm I had experienced in my dream was nowhere to be found. My heart was pounding and my mind was racing. When would I get to see my son if she took him? Where would I find a new place to live? Was she seeing someone else? Who was it? How long had she been feeling this way? Why? Each of those questions were answered in a matter of fact tone. I could see my son daily if I wanted. She wanted to stay in our current place with our son because of its proximity to her job and his daycare. She wasn't seeing anyone else and had been feeling this way since March. It was May 1. The reasons were the messages she found between the ex and me two years prior and between J and me joking about old women. She also revealed that she felt we are too different and knew in the beginning we wouldn't last because of our age difference of 8+ years and her interest in smoking weed and going out and my lack of interest in those things.
 |
| courtesy of merryjane.com |
When someone tells you they're leaving you after 6+ years and a baby because the two of you are too different, you expect the differences to be large in number and great in contrast. I asked for more examples of how my wife and I were different after she informed me that she wanted a divorce but she could only repeat, "we just are". Until that moment she had been impenetrable, nothing seemed to phase her and she had a calm dagger like answer for every question but that one. We went on to talk about how alike we are in contrast to how many differences there are between us. It didn't matter. She still wanted out.
We went to bed, the same bed, our son sleeping between us. As days and weeks went by that would be the sleeping arrangement. Our one year old son was a barrier preventing touch and intimacy in our once hot bed. There was a complaint from my wife at one time that our bed wasn't hot enough. I took that in and attempted to turn up the heat. We had a passionate moment on the couch 5 days after she told me she wanted to leave. I initiated it, which was something she said she needed more of from me. I enjoyed being more sexual and more overt in my advances. After that moment on the couch every attempt that followed was shut down. Did she not really want that? Was it not good? She told me that she didn't want to get confused or confuse me by having sex with me while still being unhappy and wanting to leave.
The weeks that followed were full of blatant disrespect and lack of care about me and my feelings. My wife would go out nearly every night and stay out until 11 PM or later. Friday and Saturday she would stay out until 3 AM or later. It got to the point that one night I got so frustrated with her behavior that I told her she might as well stay where she was since she seemed to want to be there more than at home with me and our son. She stayed. She came home the next morning and didn't tell me where she had been. The late late nights were always a mystery. She never told me where she was going or where she had been and there was one more occasion where she stayed out overnight. At least that time she was supposedly with her brothers.
Tension became so thick that the air in our living space lacked oxygen and being around each other had become a chore. She wanted out. She said it, she showed it. I decided to go speak to an attorney to prepare myself in the event that I would be served with divorce papers. The attorney listened to my side of the story and instead of finding ways to prepare a case to defeat my wife and take my money, the attorney suggested we go to counseling and implement a separation schedule to get a sense of what it would feel like to be separated. The attorney went on to say that they did not want to see me again because they hoped that my wife and I could work it out and believed that our relationship was not ready for divorce. We shook hands and before I left the office, the attorney wished me the best and charged me nothing for the consultation. I went home feeling hopeful and charged knowing that someone who makes a living off of helping couples divorce was actually rooting for my marriage to work. I spoke with my wife about the schedule and she agreed to it and also said that she was open to going to counseling. We would have to wait until our new health insurance kicked in before we could see a therapist but I was happy to hear that she was at least open to the idea.
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| courtesy of PalmStar Media |
The movie ended and I was asked via text if I was moving out or if she and our son were going to move out and find a new place to live. I didn't feel that she had the right to just take our son from me especially because of her recent behavior. I went home and found her youngest brother at the door wearing my shirt, her mom sitting on my couch and our son crawling on the floor. My wife came from the bathroom and asked if we could go for a walk to talk.
On the walk we discussed why I left without saying bye and how I contradicted myself by doing so. We discussed her weed use and the irresponsible placement of it in our son's diaper bag. We also discussed how she felt counseling wouldn't really work and she didn't see a reason to go. She wanted a non-contested divorce where we just split our belongings 50/50 and I move out and start all over and pay child support even though she was the one who wanted out of the marriage. After walking around the neighborhood for about 30 minutes we decided to go to counseling and that she would no longer bring weed around our son. We also agreed to handle our disagreements and emotions in a better way. Finally, we agreed that should we decide to divorce, there would be no big custody battle and that we both would do what is best for our son.
Effort was never an issue for me. I try hard in everything that I do. My marriage was no different. Were there some days when I tried harder than others? Absolutely, but I always tried to make it work. Even when I got to the point of honestly being okay with losing my life as I had known it of the past 6+ years, I made an effort. I still told my wife she was beautiful and that I loved her. I still rubbed her feet and asked her out to lunch. I never gave up but I did quit. I quit beating myself up. I quit allowing myself to not be loved. I surrounded myself with people who were objective and who loved me hard. If I was wrong they held me accountable but they showed me what I needed and I am forever grateful to that small group of angels. Thank you.
In the weeks leading up to counseling I went home to Kentucky to take some space and clear my head. The fresh air and quietude of small town life helped me recharge my batteries and re-center myself. If I was finished, how would I proceed? If I was not, what did I need to do to keep fighting for this life while salvaging my dignity and self-respect? I was ready to move on and start a new life and I was willing to give it one last try in counseling to say that I gave it everything I had to make my marriage work. I was ready and willing to accept the journey of either path before me. I went back to New York ready for whatever my wife had to throw at me. We had a trip planned. Were we still going?
 |
| courtesy of tucrucero.com |
Before the counseling session ended, the therapist asked my wife how much she loved me on a scale from 1 to 10. My wife said "1". ONE y'all! I have made my bonehead mistakes in our relationship and have owned them. I have flaws. I also help keep a roof over our heads, I help around the house with sweeping, doing laundry and making the bed, doing dishes, taking out the trash, dressing the baby in the morning, getting him ready for bed at night, rubbing my wife's feet, giving her massages, letting her be herself, supporting and encouraging her to get her second degree, telling her she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and meaning it, sometimes cooking dinner, taking her on dates, buying her flowers just because, listening to what she says and if I can, I try to make changes when asked of me, showing her I am beyond physically attracted to her: I desire her and crave her, doing things that take me out of my comfort zone to put a smile on her face, comforting her at night when she wakes up from a nightmare, and I could go on. A ONE?!
The therapist, after hearing my wife say this, decided that she would insult and disrespect me by calling me an asshole and "stupid" in order to make my wife feel as though she were on her side and would want to come back to therapy. Other than sleeping with a client, I'd have to say that was the worst decision she could have made at that time. I let it slide a couple times before I blew up and lost my cool. I felt pissed, attacked and didn't feel that the therapist was being objective at all. She wasn't, obviously, she was playing a mind game. I wasn't in the mood for that shit and let her know it. She asked my wife to leave the room and explained to me her intentions with which I still did not agree. She brought my wife back into the room and noticed that my wife had a look of concern on her face. My wife said that the look of concern was because she could see that I was mad: not crazy mad but angry. She wasn't concerned out of fear, it was the fact that her husband was upset and felt wronged. The therapist brought this to her attention and told us to observe our body language and our position in relation to one another on the sofa. We were encouraged to inch closer to each other and to touch/hug and we did so (with apprehension on my part due to the numerous rejections I had been experiencing when trying to touch my wife). It felt so good to hug my wife again and tell her that I loved her; that I wanted it to work out so that we could be a family again. We both shed tears at different times during the session and my wife finally let me know that she never forgave me for contacting the ex 2 1/2 years ago. I don't know if she forgave me in that moment or when she will, if she ever will. It was good to finally know how she felt about my interactions with my friends and made me more conscientious of my word choice even when joking. There are certain things I no longer need to joke about as a married man and I have learned that during this very trying time. Now, I must apply what I have learned to my life.
We left the session that night and decided we have a marriage worth fighting for and are willing to put in the effort to make it work. Time will tell if we are truly meant to be together as a married couple but I do believe that we were meant to come together if for no other reason than to create our son who is the light of my world. Our next session has yet to be scheduled but we plan to go back as a couple and as individuals. Praying that we each go to therapy means nothing unless we each put in the work necessary to be healthy and happy. That's what you sign up for when you vow to love and honor your spouse for better or worse, through sickness and health 'til death do you part. Loving someone, truly loving someone takes work. It's a verb, an active thing that requires fine attention to detail and elasticity because as long as you breathe life into it, love will change. There will be times that your love feels enormous and as vast as outer space or as small as the eye of a needle. Some days your love will burn hot and other days it will cool but it is up to you and your partner to make sure the pilot remains lit. To smote a flame you take away its life source: oxygen. Love is no different you have to keep breathing life into it, its oxygen being your effort. It's so easy to give up as soon as things are uncomfortable or don't go the way you planned, especially these days. Running from the challenges marriage presents is almost encouraged as divorce is so easy to get but not as easy to endure. Easy is a result of a process that involves someone or something working hard enough to make easy possible. Our marriage, like anything in life, can be whatever we choose to make it. As long as we remember to breathe and stay in the moment with each other we can get through this hard time knowing that this too shall pass.
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