Rolemates

When he got home that night I served dinner, stared at the floor and said, "I've got something to tell you." Staring at me intently, I knew he knew what was coming and I wanted to melt into the floor.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to tell him what I was thinking. "I'm leaving, I want to leave." The words flowed out so easily.

"Like really leave, or just go away for awhile?", he asked.  "For real, forever", I stated calmly.

This made him angry.  Tears coursed down his cheeks as he told me he didn't even know who I'd become.  "I second that", I whispered. That night, we didn't talk to each other. He was weeping. I knew he was going over every aspect of our marriage, all the highs and lows. But I could hardly give him a satisfactory answer; he had lost my heart. I didn't love him anymore.

This man who had spent ten years of his life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for his wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I said, and in all honesty, I didn't want to. Finally he cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me this cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce had weighed heavily on my mind for a very long time, and now we were all forced to be okay with it.

In the morning he presented his divorce conditions: he didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. He requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. His reasons were simple and hardly anything I could argue over: we had two very young daughters and there would need to be a time to cope and sort things out.  He also ask that he have full custody, since I would be leaving.

This was agreeable to me, although giving full custody over broke my heart.  No judge worth their weight would give sole custody to me, but I still wanted to be their mother. But then he had something more, he asked me to recall how he had carried me to bed for much of our marriage.

Of course I remembered, it was something that started whenever I had a seizure, but carried on through. He requested that every day for the month's duration he would be allowed to carry me to the bed. I thought it was an odd request, however, I conceded in order to make our lives bearable.

My husband and I hadn't had any body contact for a very long time, so when he carried me to rest on the first day, it was very awkward. I closed my eyes and said softly; "Please don't hate me forever." He nodded, feeling somewhat upset.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. I leaned on his chest and could barely even feel a heartbeat. I looked up at his face and could read the stress. And while his arms were still strong, he must have lost at least twenty pounds! For a minute I wondered what I had done to him.

On the fourth day, when he lifted me up, he seemed so hurt. This was the man who had given ten years of him life to me. "Perhaps I'm overly committed", he said quietly.  I had no response.

On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that over the years we had lost being soulmates and had simply become rolemates, playing a part everyday but not actually taking care of one another.

Wrestling with him and the girls one evening, I was pinned down and I started screaming for him to let me up.  Suddenly it hit him.  I had so much hurt, resentment and fear buried in my heart that I wasn't a whole person and I certainly didn't have a whole heart to give him.  He reached out and just held me.
"I understand, at least as much as I can, " he stated one evening.  "I just can't do it anymore, I wish I could, but I don't even know how to love you because I don't even love myself.  I give advice like I'm a Pez dispenser, and I need to take my own advice.  I need help," I whispered through my tears.

He picked me up and I hadn't noticed that our life lacked every day intimacy.  A kiss on the forehead when he came in the door and one at night.  Wow, that was all.

"I want to keep my ring, if you don't mind.  Even though I don't feel worthy of wearing it, it still means something to me."  He looked at me as hurt as could be and said, "I gave you that ring, I don't want it back."

My marriage life was never boring, but rather lonely.  Most days we rarely saw each other, me working at the house and caring for our girls; him out working providing for us.

You'd be amazed at the things you accumulate over ten years of life.  Cleaning it all out, separating what was mine and his was a difficult and sad task, but it had to be done.  After it was all said and done I looked at him and said, "I wish I had something to give you, but I have nothing.  You have needs and I've got nothing left to give.  My greatest wish through all of this is that we can still be a family, that we can still be friends."

"You have a very delusional view of what a family is.  A family is a husband and a wife that love each other and are great parents to their kids," he said firmly.

"A family is what you make of it.  We aren't a husband and wife that love each other, but that doesn't mean we can't be good friends and be great parents to those girls," I fired back.

On one of the last nights, we were almost to the bedroom when he said, "I don't hate you, I just love you.  Sometimes I think I love you too much."

"I don't believe that to be true, but I don't love you enough, and that is where the problem lies.  You hold on so tightly and I am so quick to let go.  I don't know any different," I said with a sigh.

"You've never had roots anywhere, you go where the wind blows you.  I've been here all of my life and want to stay," he said, stating one of our obvious problems.

"I'm an individual.  We may have come together as one, but we are still ourselves.  Relationships are like sand you hold in your hand.  Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is.  This is like allowing everyone to be who they really are.  The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand falls like rain through your fingers.  You may hang on to some of it, but most will spill out.  By forcing someone to be who they aren't, you are holding them tightly and they will eventually slip away and be lost.  That is like me.  I have to be allowed to breathe, to be me.  Not just 'me' as a wife and a mother, but me as what God has designed me to be.  You're prevential.  You'll stay here all of your life and you're okay with that.  I'm not.  We're so different," I said, sadly.

"Then I hope you find what you're looking for in life," he said, having exhausted all options.

"What I'm looking for first and foremost is to be your friend.  Please," I said, with hope in my voice.

"Friends," he asked.  "Friends," I stated.  He picked me up on our last night and said, "I promise I'll try."  Looking up at him I said, "That's all I ask for.  Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; a confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished.  Thank you for carrying me to bed all these years," I said quietly.

"It's been my pleasure.  I wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a smile.

♥Always remember to be friends with your spouse.  Love is just love, it's not a fairytale and it can be lost if it's ignored.  Most often divorced couples are better friends than married couples.  Don't just be rolemates, be soulmates, forever.  Go on dates, leave little notes on pillows, speak kind words.  But if the day comes that those things don't happen, at least be friends.♥

*Disclaimer - This is a fictional story, this is not what is necessarily going on in my life between Brandon and myself.  My apologies for anyone that was confused.  This is merely my feelings towards the situation, in fictional form. :)