My husband and I had a substantive conversation about the state of our marriage tonight. He offered to not come home on the weekends. He'd continue to help financially, but he would stay at his place out of town on the weekends near where he works.
That gave me pause. Part of me was delighted, the injured and healing part of me was not so happy. Other than the nurses who are in and out of here all week, I don't see anyone. I don't have a lot of close friends here--purposely--and a few of the people I'd love to come visit, can't afford it, don't have time, or aren't interested in being where the snow is. So on Friday, I need the husb to handle bizness here--laundry, grocery shopping, mail if it hasn't been gotten by one of the nurses.
So we're at a crossroads. I asked him, "How hard are you willing to work to keep this marriage? I don't feel like you're here even when you're here. I don't feel cared for or about."
It made me very sad. I was reviewing some of my old emails from him, and we were so giddy with our new love, so excited and so happy for the future, and so in love. It's almost dead. Ruined. That makes me sad.
I'm wondering if, after I am up and around, we should try a trial separation.
And here I thought I was hiding my feelings so well.
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