Incommunicado, redux

Friends, it’s been a few days. I have an incommunicado spouse again. That’s right, only this time things are a bit weird.

As you may recall from an earlier post, whenever my wife goes incommunicado, something seems to be going awry. The first time she did this was right after she delivered a long letter to me outlining her rationalizations for her crazy “path” she has chosen for herself these days. We don’t need to review all the things this path entails; the contents of this blog will make that eminently clear. But, if you want a thumbnail sketch, that path is about one thing and one thing only: adultery. The second time she went incommunicado was on her five-day weekend just prior to her actual move-out.

Here we are again, spouse gone AWOL, no contact, no nothing. I’ve tried to be considerate, too. The last I heard from her was on Wednesday when she stopped by to teach a student. I was not home, and she made sure her arrival and departure occurred when I was not present. That’s just how much she seems to want to be avoiding me. Then, on Friday, her typical departure date for Camp Chickenshit, I fully expected to see her show up while I was still here, but she did not. I left the dog at home, along with a couple of small gifts. The gifts were not claimed, and the dog was waiting at home when I arrived.

Now, I’m really glad to have the company of the dog, and my wife has sacrificed the companionship of her “treasure,” as she calls the dog, for more than a week now. I asked her to leave the dog at home for the weekend when she moved out, and she only had a brief visitation time with her on Wednesday. Other than that, no contact. Hmmmm. Why, oh why would she not come and take the dog away for the weekend?

I’ll tell you why: because something truly anomalous is going on. I have circumstantial evidence at this point that shows me that she has taken a road trip with the adulterer, and that they are currently in another state, about 800 miles from here, visiting the adulterer’s daughter and her husband. Please don’t ask me how I know this. The walls of secrecy are leaky, and adulterers are careless. They try to hide their tracks, but they aren’t professionals, so they leave steaming evidence trails from time to time. I already know that she has not one but two “secret” bank accounts. I saw the ATM statements. I know the bank — it’s right down the street — and I know that she has listed this address on the accounts. The bank communications have come here. Duh! This is just the tip of the iceberg I’m seeing. I don’t know why she’s there, but I have my hunches. I won’t get into those, though.

You see, one of the things adulterers do is to start making “plans for the future” with their adulterous partner. Why? Well, it’s simple. They’ve found their “soul mate.” The definition of this person is: “someone with whom I share one or two superficial concerns, who provides me with a temporary bandage for my existential crisis, and someone with whom I have sex.” That’s about it. There’s pretty much nothing else there. There is no love. Nope, you need trust and honesty for that. There is no deep, underlying emotional health. That’s pretty much impossible, since the relationship is poisoned by the tension of maintaining a vast network of lies and deception. There’s just addiction, and that’s about it. Since they are addicts, they exercise extremely bad judgment. They introduce their adulterous partner to friends and family. They quit jobs and sever personal ties. They waste money on frivolities. They live in a 24/7 fantasy world in which nothing could ever go wrong.

That is, until the bubble pops. Sooner or later the bubble pops. It always does. It pops because the relationship stops being novel. It pops because the combined weight of all the lies starts to grind down on the adulterer’s conscience. It pops because they become aware of the disapproval of others of their behavior. It pops because the relationship ends up being like any other: very human, fraught with all the personality faults, disagreements, and issues of any other relationship. But there’s a twist: since this relationship is built on a bed of lies, it is very fragile, and once these faults and issues arise, the bubble gets ready to pop. This happens more quickly than in normal relationships because the deceitfulness of the relationship destabilizes it from day one. There is no happy ending.

So, she’ll come back sometime next week. I don’t know when, but I suspect it will probably be on Tuesday. Then something else will unfold. She’ll have all this hope of this new future scenario she has put in place. Maybe she’ll be moving into a new apartment after all. Maybe she’ll be moving in with the adulterer. Maybe something else will happen. No matter what it is, it will be a matter of extremely poor judgment made in the impenetrable haze of the affair fog.

I’ve been enduring this crisis for nearly six months, folks. 5 months and 21 days, to be precise. That’s 173 days since she opened communication with this adulterer and the avalanche of nonsense came cascading down. For the first 23 days it was an emotional affair. The physical affair I’ve been enduring for 151 days. That’s 4 months and 30 days. Yes, nearly 5 months. 21 weeks, if you prefer. I’ve been trying to reconcile for 20 weeks. That’s 145 days, or 4 months and 24 days. Yes, I did calculate all this. From what I understand, the average affair lasts about 6 months, or “until the bloom is off the rose,” so to speak. Well, that latter could certainly happen sooner. I guess I’ve just got somewhat longer to endure. It might be another month until that bloom really does go off the rose. The more time she spends with this adulterer, the quicker that will happen. There is one thing that has not change during this whole time, and that’s my behavior. It has remained constant. I still reach out to connect, I still give. Even thought it’s harder to do with her withdrawal from me, I still do it. I persevere. That is what will make the difference in the end.

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