As I’ve written many, many times, my wife has tried to be incommunicado with me for at least 4 months now. This manifests mainly in her not answering her cell phone when I call. It could be sitting right next to her, or even in her own hands, but she simply won’t pick up. I guess she thinks that I’ll eventually give up.
Well, think again.
Yes, this is childish behavior. Very, very childish. But it is also, in a way, understandable behavior. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not condoning it, just saying that I understand it. I mean, if I were foolhardy enough to go and have an extramarital affair, I don’t think I’d feel all that comfortable answering calls if I were at the adulterer’s house, you know what I mean? First of all, if the adulterer is around, she can’t exactly talk to me. I just cannot imagine him saying, “Oh, it’s your husband? Sure, go ahead and take that call.” Second, even if he’s not around, if she does answer, that leaves her open to the question, “So where are you right now?” Not that I’d ask it, but it could come up. Then she’d have to tell a lie, and that might actually push that total up in to the 5 digits. So she pretty much only answers the phone when she is in town, and when it’s logistical.
Nevertheless, there have been some fissures forming in that wall of ice she’s been putting between us. Last night, I sent her a goofy picture of our dog. It was a picture I actually took a couple of years ago: she’s lying under our bed on her back, and the only thing visible are a pair of stumpy, Corgi legs sticking out from under the bed. I got an email back with a smiley face on it. You know, one of those emoticon things — 🙂 . You might think this is insignificant, but she sent it to me around 11:00 p.m. The adulterer would probably be sound asleep by that time. She’s in his house, he is (ostensibly) there, and she emails me. Even if it’s just a snippet like that, this is how emotional affairs start, my friends. I’ve said it before, I’m the other man now.
This morning I had to run out to buy the dog some food. Cans of Trippet, as per usual. (Smells horrible, yes, but dogs love it, and it keeps them healthy.) On my way home, I get a text message signal — no, three of them: Ping! Ping! Ping! She sent me one long text in 3 chunks. She thanked me for my virtual support for her performance last night, which seems to have gone well. Then she went on to ask me if her paycheck had come, and had I deposited it. She was worried that she didn’t have enough in her account for a “purchase” she’d made. This of course raises the question why she made that purchase, but that’s another story. I had half a mind to go ahead and let her check bounce, but what good would that do? The last part of the text was her wishing me a good day. She also confirmed that she had signed on for another year with the choir. Now why would she tell me that? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but if she’s really serious about cutting me out of her life, what possible interest would that be to me?
I texted back (when I got home, not while I was driving… are you crazy?!?) that I would make the deposit on my way in to work today. She then texted back to ask me how much the check was for. Okay, so here’s where I tire of texts. I just called her back. I mean, the dang phone was in her hands, so she should just pick up, right?
No such luck. Straight to voice mail. Totally pathetic. Maybe, just maybe, she had had enough time to put the phone down, but it doesn’t take ages for a text message to wend its way from one cell phone to another. I’d reckon it’s just seconds in most cases. I left a quick message to tell her how much the check was, and said, “Call me.” She didn’t, but then again, I didn’t expect her to.
In sum, things continue to trend positively. These are baby steps in the right direction, but steps nonetheless. All I need now is for some sort of rude awakening to happen for her up there at Camp You-Know-What, and we’ll see those fissures open up and unleash a torrent that will bring her back to me.