Thursday, November 23, 2006

Still Sitting Still

I asked for a separation this morning.

Thanksgiving morning. Nice, huh?

I’m frustrated. Raw. Tired of being hurt with the constant jabs.

Then we went for Thanksgiving dinner to Walter’s sister’s house. It was such fun. Great people. Everything, everyone was relaxed and easy. The way family should be with each other.

Of course, I’m an outsider and don’t know the dirt but it seemed very easy and relaxed to me. I played cards with my wife and Allan and Walter’s nephew. (Please note: I know all the names. I don’t use anyone’s name without permission. So if it gets confusing with the references to the cousin’s sister’s brother of Walter… it’s because I only have Walter’s permission.)

My wife.

On a holiday. My favorite holiday.

She’s such a charmer, my wife. She smiles and her eyes light up a room. You never know if it’s joy or rage behind that sparkle. I know it’s both. I played cards with her. Listened to her talk to Walter’s mom and sister and sister’s friend eating dinner. She is a good person. She has a good heart. I love her.

And I asked for her to consider a separation this morning.

On one hand, I can’t imagine not having her to wake up with every morning. Or, more realistically, to shove her out of bed and tell her it’s time to get up. We sat at breakfast this morning and discussed making a reservation to go to the Macy’s parade next year.

Jeanine and I came upstairs and talked about separating.

I watched her over the table, playing cards. I listened to her talk to Walter’s mom. I remembered the part of her I love so much. The part that is so kind, thoughtful. Funny. Gentle.

We text messaged each other during the football game. The contents of the messages will not pass the Weezie meter. Let’s just say, she wants one thing, I want another. We’ve always made it work in the past. It’s been a little hard to do lately. We haven’t been able to meet each other in the middle of the bed. And when we can’t meet each other in the middle of the bed, we are in deep trouble.

I am reminded of my friend who barked at me, you’re still having great sex after 15 years? Are you out of your goddamn mind?

Our cement boots have kept us at separate sides. Anger, confusion and sadness. I wondered, as the messages went back and forth, can we sexually heal this bump in the road, the way we have so many times before? Will our entrenchment keep us apart?

She is a wonderfully kind person.

This is not a bump. It’s a mountain.

My friend Donald reminds me, being single isn’t so great. There is a limited gene pool out there. I watch two other friends, divorcing, now dating clones of each other. Why go through all that trouble to end up with the same person, different body?

It’s a different body and different baggage. They both get to start over. No eye rolling or bitter comments

No finished sentences.

It’s Thanksgiving. I asked for a separation this morning.

I was pulled back this afternoon.

I know. Everyone is thinking, c’mon girl! What the hell are you doing?

I’m going to sit. Sit still.

Happy Thanksgiving.


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