I now spend hours every day reading articles on Salon. Honest, engaging, and provocative. This article just made me cry.
Fear and second chances
I’m giving my marriage a second try, and I’m scared beyond fear.
Actually, the number of times I’ve attempted to salvage my marriage has grown so numerous, I’ve literally lost count. That’s been the pattern since my wife and I married little more than seven years ago. Survive and move on. Survive and move on.
Nothing about our marriage has been “normal,” right up to her cheating on me last week. The details are ugly and unnecessary: Day-care provider’s husband. Basement. Party. Day-care provider finds them together. Calls me screaming, yelling, crying, heartbroken, devastated, defeated. Things I’ve felt many times before.
Was I surprised at what happened? Not really. Our marriage has been spiraling downward for so long, I expected something devastating just around the corner, waiting to explode. Did the expectation make the pain any less? Hell, no. I never knew I could hurt like this. I didn’t know it was possible to feel pain so intensely. And I never knew pain could last so long.
Throw kids into the picture and the scene becomes too ugly to look at. Throw family into the picture and your sides are drawn. Throw love into the picture and the most difficult decisions you could ever imagine become omnipresent. Give over your trust again or run and protect yourself? I pity any man or woman who ever has to make that decision.
So why try again? My wife is an alcoholic. It rules her life. It changes her personality. It distorts her decision-making abilities.
Why try again? My wife was mentally and physically abused and abandoned as a child. It has ruled her life. It has changed her personality. It has distorted her decision-making abilities.
Why try again? My wife has reached the bottom. There is nowhere lower to go. There is no comfort now in the booze. She stands to lose everything and she knows it. Children. Job. Me.
Why try again? I’ve seen her sweet side. I’ve seen nurture. I’ve seen her potential. I’ve seen her free of her past, even if just for very short periods of time. And I love those moments. There’s a bond between us that I can’t explain. It’s beyond us. It’s a gift from somewhere. I can’t take that lightly.
She’s left me completely empty. Tapped out and dry. Devoid of self-confidence or self-respect. She’s left me unbearably lonely and without solace. And yet, that “something” pushes me on, fueling me to take the next step.
I’m giving my marriage another try, and I’m so scared it physically hurts, because I don’t know if all the AA and counseling and therapy and hope and faith and trust and compassion in the world can undo what’s been done. And I don’t know if all the promises and sincerity and prayers in the universe can erase the horrific images inside my head. But I know that if I can survive, the many years to come can be opportunities for us to show our children that love is the strongest entity you can ever hope to grab hold of and let take you for a ride. I’ve felt it. I know it exists. I can’t imagine anyone but her can give it to me. I hope I’m right.