Karmic residue; or, the cell phone waiting lot of relationships

I don’t have much to say here tonight. Just checking in, more for my own benefit than anything else. My wife is continuing her withdrawal, not returning home at all during the day. She had asked me to pick her up from a rehearsal tonight, and I did so; I had also left the lunchbox I made for her the day before yesterday in the fridge for her. She did finally get around to eating it and thanked me for it. I also left a chocolate bar that she appears to have taken. I had some new flowers that I’d left in a couple of rooms, and she took care of them for me and trimmed and rehoused a few in a new vase. She left a nice little note for me as well.

I did pick her up from the rehearsal and she was wearing the boots I’d bought her for her birthday. (Seriously, people, if you really wanted to ditch your husband, wouldn’t you avoid the gifts he gave you, too?) We had a pleasant enough time, joking around, on the short drive from the rehearsal location to the friends’ house she is currently “living” in. I also gave her a little pastry for her breakfast tomorrow. This is pretty much all I can do right now while I wait for her affair to end.

Yes, yes, yes… I know it will end. I know that I just have to be patient. Things are tedious right now, as I’ve said before. She is an addict and simply cannot see things as they are. She has a small support group that is aiding and abetting her acts of adultery, treating them as though they somehow are not wrong and actually represent a viable future. I don’t attribute this to maliciousness, but rather to a rather insipid naiveté that will result in tremendous embarrassment for these people in the relatively short term.

Unfortunately, my wife will be the last to know that her current situation is not sustainable. The deck is stacked against her and that will not change. There are so many pressures out there conspiring against her course of action, and these pressures will continue to build for as long as she chooses to ignore them. Basically, I suspect she will ignore them until something happens that causes the affair to explode. She thinks it’s robust and healthy, but in fact it is just diseased and sclerotic. The timeline for this happening is as uncertain as ever, but the timeline of external pressures is relatively fixed: the registration deadline for spring quarter at the university began a week and a half ago; she can register for most of the next month, but then tuition will need to be paid. At present she has about $200 less in her combined bank accounts than what will be needed to pay her tuition, and I don’t know if she has even thought about this. Of course I am willing to help, both with the tuition as well as with her dissertation, but I have not yet heard one single entreaty for either. I cannot exactly suggest she think about these things, as that will just piss her off.

So I wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. She and the adulterer are having a grand time of it to be sure, making all sorts of grandiose plans about the future. (Let me tell you about some of the things I’ve heard… well, maybe not.) Little do they realize that the chances of any of those plans, let alone the likelihood of their relationship going long-term, is basically slim to none. I mean, the figures are pretty unequivocal: from what I’ve seen and understand, 95% of affairs fail to become long-term, committed relationships. By long-term, I mean over a year, and persisting in the absence of the primary relationship. Of those that do make it to that point, only 3-7% succeed. That’s right: start a relationship as an affair, and the likelihood that you’ll see it become, say, a long-term marriage or partnership is maybe .25%. That’s right, a quarter of a percent. One in 400 affairs might succeed, and that’s probably being generous. The likelihood of that happening when there is a committed spouse would probably push that figure even farther south.

There we are. I’m in the cell phone waiting lot of relationships, waiting for my call from the distressed spouse, desperately embarrassed by the person she has become. I’ll take that call, and be there to collect her when the time comes.