In a previous article I wrote about how alone I’ve felt lately. It’s to the point where I’m asking, “What’s the point of this relationship? Mostly he’s good to me, yes –when he’s available. And once in a while he does incredibly thoughtful things like how he did when he welcomed my mom. But the job is all-consuming anymore and he rarely has time for me. Not even when it’s serious stuff like it has been with my mom. And I don’t know if it really has to be that way, or if he’s using work as an excuse to avoid our relationship.”
Sometimes it feels that way. Like when he took the job in Jacksonville last year and I had to once again stay behind to deal with selling the house. I felt he wasn’t being understanding at all about the stress it caused me and was instead more concerned with having fun with his single friends.
And here I am today, alone again, in the hospital wondering if pneumonia will finally get the best of my mom, if she’s going to have another stroke, why she had the first one, if the cancer has now spread and we’re in the very end stages, what’s going to happen with all the insurance issues (because this hospital is apparently not in her network), and how I’m going to get through this all. Because even though it’s been such a short time since she moved in, I can’t imagine our home without her –or how lonely it’s going to feel when she’s gone.
I need my husband more than I ever have in our marriage and he’s nowhere to be found.
I hate to say it, but me, the person who is well aware that true love doesn’t equal perfect love and that there is no such thing as a perfect marriage, is desperate for such truths not to be so.
Because I fear I’m nearing a marriage crisis with the types of thoughts that have been swirling in my head lately. Such as how I hope Wayne agrees to counseling, because unless things change drastically and he becomes a lot more attentive, I’m running out of ideas for getting us back on track on my own. And unless we do, 22 years is out the window.