There comes a point in the reconciliatory process where things start to seem absurd. Actually, this might happen a number of times, but at some point it gets so obvious that the situation is absolutely absurd that it becomes hard to ignore it. I think I have finally reached that point.

What does this mean? Well, aside from the apparent fact that I like to ask rhetorical questions (just look at my other posts), it means that there arrives a point at which the momentum toward reconciliation seems to be gaining the upper hand, and the wayward spouse just doesn’t realize it yet. I do believe that this is where things stand for me as of this moment. The entire energy of my being is now oriented toward reconciliation. Not in the getting to reconciliation, but in the actual being there. I see my wife’s reconciliation with me as so inevitable that I just don’t see any other possible outcomes. I can easily imagine various scenarios, and they all seem totally plausible. In a way, I just feel like I’m sitting here thinking, “come on, already, what’s taking you so long?” as though we were headed out on a hot date and she was still busy blowdrying her hair. Really, it’s almost that mundane, as odd as that seems.

As for the reality of my situation, well, she’s not here. She is 37.0 miles away, according to Google maps. It’s a 52-minute drive, apparently. She is holed up in the home of a cowardly scumbag who thinks he can have a life with a married woman. Seriously? I mean, they’ve been at it for over 6 months now, and trying to shack up together since the beginning of the year. I’m totally out of the way now, too. There are no more excuses. Their lives should be the epitome of blissfulness, right?

But I’m sure it isn’t. There’s the ignominy, the perfidy, the deceitfulness, the utter lack of trust. It’s all so shattering. There are the attempts to patch it all together, which must be like trying to tape together a wet, shattered windshield with a tiny roll of Scotch tape. How’s that working out for ya?

Not well, I’m sure. I reviewed the history of my love life not too long ago, as an exercise in understanding just how long the “in love” feelings we all cherish so much actually last. Here’s what I came up with: three to six months. That’s about it. Pretty much every girlfriend I ever had I fell out of love with in three to six months. I did hang on to a couple of those relationships, but they went nowhere.

Things were different with my wife, though. The “in love” feelings lasted for a couple of years. First there was the courtship, then there was the engagement. And after that, the actual marriage itself. All of these things helped to keep that love alive. But then, inevitably, life got in the way, and neither of us knew what to do. So the “in love” feelings started to die. It’s an utterly normal, all too common story. At some point you have to start manufacturing love through the things you do, because the emotions themselves will start to fade of their own accord if you don’t.

This is where my hope comes from, in part. Once I realized that pretty much all of my previous relationships fizzled out after three to six months, I realized that my wife’s current “relationship” will almost certainly do the same. I remember all to well what happened when those “in love” feelings abated, too. I began to see personality quirks that irritated me. I began to recognize “incompatibilities.” Disagreements started to happen. I began to take my partner for granted. Disagreements turned into arguments. Emotional separation started to take hold. Arguments would escalate into fights. Then, at some point, enough was enough. This is probably the trajectory that unfolds in the overwhelming majority of romantic relationships. The key feature, of course, is that all of those relationships were “clean.” I was not involved with someone else, nor was my partner. There were no external hindrances or stressors.

The key difference with my wife is that she lacks that cleanness. Everything about her “relationship” is besmirched with the stigma of infidelity. This stigma is one of the most potent relationship poisons known to mankind. It might work slowly, but it is systemic and invasive, and pretty much never fails to kill any relationship that has been fed with it. I don’t know what’s going on with my wife and this so-called “relationship” right now, but I imagine that the buried tensions are finally beginning to surface, that the personality faults have risen to the surface, and that disagreements and frustrations are becoming more common.

Several months ago my counselor said to me the following words: “The belief that they are just one argument away from ending that relationship is a good belief to have.” A week and a half ago he said, “You’ve said your wife has anger issues. Over the next couple to three weeks he’ll see this, and will grow tired of her antics.” That’s where we’re at, folks. This dude has to learn first hand what a relationship with my wife is all about, and he won’t be able to handle it. Nooooooooooooooooooo way. I can handle it because my personality type and energetic disposition makes that possible. His will only exacerbate things and cause a painful flare up (gosh, that sounds like a commercial for Preparation H) that will trigger an explosion.

Mark my words, folks, the era of deceitfulness is drawing to a close.