The long haul

On Sunday, I was sitting in the pew with the woman who I had the two-day emotional affair wherein one of the men who had been out at a church fundraiser the night before came over.  I apologized for teasing his friend what was then, last night.  He said, “Oh, you mean my wife?  No problem.”  I asked how long they had been married and he said, “Sixteen-years.”  The women who I was sitting with and I reacted as if we were impressed with the number.  After reflecting this morning, I realized that had I stayed in the land of repression and just accepted that I was married to a friend who really didn’t have an ounce of ambition, I would have been married for 15-years this fall, and I’m way younger than this man.

I made it nine-years.  I got tired of being breadwinner, motivator, and not being allowed to do things that I wanted to do because he wanted to sit around and do very little.  One time he didn’t work for eight-months and didn’t make a single meal, but managed to cut down the apple tree that was next to the Master bedroom.  You don’t need my degree to figure that one out.

I think that everyone wants someone who is a good companion to him or her.  I think, too, that everyone would like to have arms wrapped around them in passion or simply in warm exchange.  I don’t think that those aspects in a love relationship are too much to ask either, but I think that when the foundation was shaky or simply only built on sex, that it tends to fade off, and then you notice chewing with mouth open, or that you don’t help with dishes after dinner, etc.

I have a host of habits that I think some of which have changed that annoyed my ex.  She is a neat freak, so she cleans stuff up in fervor.  One time her pitching everything out included my favorite stocking cap that I eventually found buried in her garbage.  I thought that my son threw it out.  Then, because it had only been just under three-months, I began to note the bulldozer of disposal that ensued when she didn’t have house guests any longer.  It was like ridding herself of others.  She also didn’t like that sometimes I get excited when people share a story and I either punctuate it or ask questions that can change what is being told.

My ex called me in July and I listened passively.  When there was a really long pause I said, “That’s funny.”  I do think that a good outcome is that I listen more fully, and with the exception of my workout partner, I don’t punctuate convo anymore.  I guess it’s rude.  She actually just says the same things all the time, and they are devoid of emotion, “Good job,” and “Way to go,” are really the only things that she says in affirmation.

I would have grown really tired of my imperfections and quirks being thrown in my face and being so religiously criticized.  I don’t miss her at all.  We don’t have similar views on much of anything.

Now, I’m left with very few choices, so I require a new pool.  I don’t want someone morally compromised, I don’t want to sleep with a liar, and I don’t want to chase either.  I asked out a mother last month, and I asked out a girl that I met on an outing on Meetup too.  Both expect me to pursue and not just ask out and then see.  That is not my thing.  I like the one-on-one connected conversation over a beer or on a hike.  I don’t want to chase in hopes of something developing, because it’s not me.  Something will happen when it’s meant to, and it will be something that is meant to last.

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