She decided she was going to take the dog for a walk, and I said I was coming too. Then she asked why, which was a subtle way of saying back off. I told her to tell me directly if she wanted to be alone. Her response was "I don't know what I want."
So I threw on my fleece and shoes and left with her. About halfway down the street, she let me take her hand, and we began talking about things like what needs to be accomplished on Saturday. Surely, this must have been a sign that the walls were coming down, and she would let me in again. It was business talk, sure, but it's better than the cold rush felt when she first got home.
We got back to the house, and her first question was if I'd talked to our friends about our date on Friday. Nope... "Well, actually, I don't want to go anywhere. I'm tired of last minute dates, and I'm tired of having to do everything. Are you going to come to bed or not?"
Fine. I buttoned up the pup for the night, and carried him upstairs. I had meant to call, but it was a frustrating night. I was hoping for some slack, but it was the wrong night to flake out.
I could feel my heart breaking as I sat down on the bed. This is how nights have felt for the last few weeks, maybe even months. The irritability for both of us has been overwhelming. The two of us at each others throats. The power struggle only gaining momentum. Who's marriage is this? It's certainly not the one I'm used to. did I cause this?
She got in the shower, and I set the alarms and said good night to the dog. He's been our buffer lately, but we never needed a buffer before. Now, though, our buffer was crated, and out of the way.
I went into the bathroom as she was wrapping up. I was looking for an intimate moment to break the shell. Maybe I could help her dry off, since it always seems to help her feel close to me. "Can I help you?" She growled in a low tone. My reply was that I wanted to know if I could help her. She looked at me coldly.
I retreated and sat down in the corner of the hallway by the bookcase. My heart felt like it was going to climb out from between my legs and lie there looking stillborn. Tears were welling up as she walked past me into the bedroom, and they released down my cheek as she walked back out with a gruff "I need to go go to bed now." followed by the usual math of hours slept and the next days ridiculously grueling list of her responsibilities.
I came into the room wiping my cheek, and headed for the responsible side of the bed, since I thought I was supposed to be up first. Wrong side. She had just told me what her day was going to be tomorrow.
We passed each other carefully as we walked around the bed. I was losing my mind. I couldn't take the tension. I sat on the bed. What should I do in such a situation? I could foresee the coldness in bed, the unwillingness to even touch. The passive aggressive sighs I'd be making. I couldn't stand another night of that.
I told her I should just sleep downstairs. She said to do whatever I wanted. What I wanted was to break down in tears.
Then as I held the door handle she said, "I'm just letting you know, I'm done, I'm going on strike. I'm not being responsible for anybody anymore. I'm going on strike. We'll see what happens to this household then."
I new it was a dig. An assault on my lack of responsibility. My mind reeled. I slammed the door. Opened it again, went to grab my glasses, threw on some pants, and slammed it again behind me. i rushed down the stairs, thresw a coat on, and grabbed my keys. I had no clue where I was going, I just needed out.
At the front door, I hesitated. Where would I go? I ended up sitting on the retaining wall for a half an hour. I tried to text her about what I was feeling. I revised my text message over and over till the cold air made it impossible to move my fingers anymore. Finally I stood up, shivering, feeling broken, and I headed back inside.
I climbed the stairs slowly, and I crawled carefully into bed. "I'm sorry for storming out. I love you." No response. I lay there, tears hanging in my eyes but not falling, until I finally slept.
When I woke up to the sound of my alarm going off for the third time, she asked me harshly if I knew what time it was. I said I didn't care. All I knew was how upset she sounded still.
I almost left without saying goodbye. I dragged myself back upstairs, but all I could eek out was "I'm leaving now, I love you."
I know I was wrong to respond how I did, and I only made things worse. She hasn't responded to my apology email yet.
I can't even concentrate on my job.
I don't know what's going to happen next.
