Hollywood moment
My friends have been great to me. L brought me home, cleaned up my kitchen, let me sleep, shopped, cooked and fed me. And made me take my drugs.
Vicodin: Hell, yes.
I take two of those, and my whole life is just fine. And, when I feel that way, I will tell you.
K came over Friday evening to hang out and look after me. We watched X Men on DVD. I had taken my vicodin. I had company, a good movie, was under the covers and high on narcotics.
"I feel really good", I informed her. She smiled at me with a look that said, "That's sweet, but you're high."
She came back Saturday morning, and we hung out a bit more. It was a lovely day, and walking was good for my recovery, so she suggested we go amble about my town.
Backstory: My wife's car got broken into in SF. I'm covering her car insurance, and so I had to help her orchestrate the claim. The check (for some odd reason) wasn't sent to the repairer, but to me. She had opted to pick it up from me on Thursday. I had called her pre-surgery on Thursday to let her know it wasn't going to happen. I called her Saturday morning and told her I was going to be around that day, but that friends would be around caring for me, and that if she wanted to get it, she should call before she came.
K and I left for a walk. Stopped in a cute little rug store in my town she was into (Asian style is her style). We walked the main street. On the way home, we opted to dart down a narrow side street that only trafficked by residents. Pretty day, cute houses. Plenty to notice. We stopped in front of one little house, wondering aloud what about it, architecturally, made me feel it was slightly Japanese. I leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. At that precise moment I hear behind me
"Hi Ken"
A car pulls to a stop. It's my wife.
"Hi, I'm A" she introduces herself
"Hi, I'm K"
I'm stupified.
"Why don't I meet you at your place in about 15 minutes" A suggests.
She must have seen me be affectionate with K. I would never have done anything like that in front of her knowingly. Out of consideration of her feelings. I felt terrible. K was kind of shocked, too.
Perfect.
But I realized that this is kind of par for the course. She had a history of expecting me to be available for her at any moment at any time. I got back to my place, and it seems she had called a few times while I was out. Clearly she was thinking "I will call and announce when I am arriving" as opposed to "I will call to see if it's ok for me to come at a certain time".
I was stunned that she found me, too. She must have literally been driving up and down the streets in my neighborhood looking for me. She really wanted that check.
Perhaps the Vicodin helped, but I've been reasonably able to let it go. It wasn't how I'd have wanted things to go, but it's the truth of where things are in my life. I sought to protect her from that, but I can't protect her if she shows up unexpectedly.
Part of me that still clings to the dream is upset that I've now appeared to be "moving on," which pounds yet another nail in the coffin of reconciliation. Not that there was ever a chance. But I suppose we mourn the death of the dreams slowly.
Vicodin: Hell, yes.
I take two of those, and my whole life is just fine. And, when I feel that way, I will tell you.
K came over Friday evening to hang out and look after me. We watched X Men on DVD. I had taken my vicodin. I had company, a good movie, was under the covers and high on narcotics.
"I feel really good", I informed her. She smiled at me with a look that said, "That's sweet, but you're high."
She came back Saturday morning, and we hung out a bit more. It was a lovely day, and walking was good for my recovery, so she suggested we go amble about my town.
Backstory: My wife's car got broken into in SF. I'm covering her car insurance, and so I had to help her orchestrate the claim. The check (for some odd reason) wasn't sent to the repairer, but to me. She had opted to pick it up from me on Thursday. I had called her pre-surgery on Thursday to let her know it wasn't going to happen. I called her Saturday morning and told her I was going to be around that day, but that friends would be around caring for me, and that if she wanted to get it, she should call before she came.
K and I left for a walk. Stopped in a cute little rug store in my town she was into (Asian style is her style). We walked the main street. On the way home, we opted to dart down a narrow side street that only trafficked by residents. Pretty day, cute houses. Plenty to notice. We stopped in front of one little house, wondering aloud what about it, architecturally, made me feel it was slightly Japanese. I leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. At that precise moment I hear behind me
"Hi Ken"
A car pulls to a stop. It's my wife.
"Hi, I'm A" she introduces herself
"Hi, I'm K"
I'm stupified.
"Why don't I meet you at your place in about 15 minutes" A suggests.
She must have seen me be affectionate with K. I would never have done anything like that in front of her knowingly. Out of consideration of her feelings. I felt terrible. K was kind of shocked, too.
Boy is recovering from surgery, being cared for by girl, boy and girl are out walking on perfect day, boy and girl stop to admire cute house, boy leans over to kiss girl on the cheek, and cue ex-wife in the rental car looking for insurance check.
Perfect.
But I realized that this is kind of par for the course. She had a history of expecting me to be available for her at any moment at any time. I got back to my place, and it seems she had called a few times while I was out. Clearly she was thinking "I will call and announce when I am arriving" as opposed to "I will call to see if it's ok for me to come at a certain time".
I was stunned that she found me, too. She must have literally been driving up and down the streets in my neighborhood looking for me. She really wanted that check.
Perhaps the Vicodin helped, but I've been reasonably able to let it go. It wasn't how I'd have wanted things to go, but it's the truth of where things are in my life. I sought to protect her from that, but I can't protect her if she shows up unexpectedly.
Part of me that still clings to the dream is upset that I've now appeared to be "moving on," which pounds yet another nail in the coffin of reconciliation. Not that there was ever a chance. But I suppose we mourn the death of the dreams slowly.
posted by Kenneth at 10:31 AM
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