With this friend, I got on the topic of Jack's workaholism. He could relate, knowing quite a few workaholics himself. He had previously heard about Jack's grueling work schedule, and never questioned how difficult it is.
(By the way, I think of this guy as an old woman. If you knew him, you'd understand why. He is a friendly, chatty, curmudgeon.)
This friend encouraged me to stay in my marriage, and vigorously so: "You have kids! If you get divorced, you'll be broke! You have kids! There are no other good men out there! It is like musical chairs and the only chairs left are the broken ones! You have kids!"
I tried telling him this marriage had gone beyond sustainability, that it is impossible for two married people to live independent lives and pretend that everything is normal. Our marriage had died, and now it is on life support.
"Do your own thing. Find something you love. You don't need the money, so get a small part-time job. Start your own business," he replied. He is right, yet I still have this nagging feeling of being trapped and/or paralyzed. I don't know why. I should move on and find my own happiness. I should do things that I love, with or without Jack. And that is the scary part for me. Somewhere deep inside, I still love him, but it hurts to love someone who isn't present. I am a writer and introvert. I need a quiet, constant companion. I am not thriving with a partner who works this horrible schedule.
"Nature abhors a vacuum," I said. I didn't say the loneliness is crushing. I didn't say that I tried to live independently, but it was a miserable failure. Emotional needs need to be met. Humans aren't programmed to live with out affection, admiration and attention.
Which got me to thinking. Most people get married for love, but stay married for money. We get married for companionship, love, affection, attention, fun. Some people can keep this going for decades. Other marriages slide into an easy comfortability, or ebb and flow. Others die from lack of oxygen. All marriages need regular tending to, and need a balance of give and take.
Earlier today, I read on a blog "Givers are happy. Takers are miserable." This is not entirely true. Givers are often happy because they get something in return for spreading joy and happiness in the world. Often, their gifts are reciprocated. But what happens when they are not? What happens when the person or people they give to aren't appreciative? What if those people just take, or do all their giving to other people? Doesn't that make the first giver a little testy or put out? Having been there, I would say yes.
So love dies in a marriage. When it dies, it often isn't planned, like a murder, but through failure to nurture and tend to the garden. The plants aren't watered, and they fail to thrive. They might grow a little bit, but do not reach their full potential. The plant might be reasonably alive, but it might not flower, bloom or bear fruit. So here we are, in a marriage that was not thriving, where loyalty, honesty and trust were not present, where one party lacks introspection and self-awareness. Yes, he is working to get them back, but then he disappears for ten days or twelve days or whatever.
So we stay married for economic security, and emotional security is an afterthought. But I am too high maintenance to live like this. I need emotional support. I need companionship. What happens when my companion isn't present? I would like to think I am like those pioneer women who can go it alone, but I am not.
Actually, the pioneer women didn't go it alone. They were part of a team.
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| A picture the Boy took of me when we were walking Fox last night. This has nothing to do with the story above, but I thought it was a nice picture. We are on the footbridge over the ravine in Ravenna Park. |
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