The Secret

"The last time my yearning meter was this high, I made a really big mistake that almost destroyed a lot of people, a mistake that still looms over me with threatening posture. Perhaps I'll work up the nerve to write about that soon."


Maybe it's not "nerve" I need as much as release. Here comes the painful honesty:

Living a lie is like being in prison. Life just cannot go on as it does for those outside the bars. Like the old saying goes, "Oh the tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive." I'm so tangled up in this mess, that I sometimes wonder if we've moved on to the stage in which the spider wraps up the prey and sucks the life out of it.

You already know how it started: The deception of playing a role that turned into a commitment that never should have been. Temporary insanity turned into vows before God to "forsake all others" and bind myself forever to Todd.

There were so many warnings and chances to get out along the way leading up to our wedding. Why I didn't end it is a good question. Low self-esteem, fear of being alone forever, and a warped theology--belief that since I had already consummated the physical relationship, marrying Todd would somehow justify my sin and make things right with God. I wish I had better understood God's mercy--that He would have allowed me to start over--that what I was doing was totally crazy... but, you see, I even deceived myself.

Early in marriage (before children), given how crippling our relationship was becoming, I probably should have left, rather than continuing to enable Todd in his many selfish and emotionally abusive behaviors. But I played the martyr... figuring that if I toughed it out, everything would work out in the long run. Then came kids.

When he learned that I was pregnant with our first child, Todd was so stunned and fearful that instead of providing support, he elevated my worries over finances and basic survival. I knew an older couple (with solid jobs, a nice home, and an already decorated nursery) who had suffered miscarriage after miscarriage, year after year... and here I was: pregnant, poor, and (as Todd kept reminding me) in a hopeless situation. I actually got so low that I prayed God would take the baby from me and put it in my friend's womb. Sobbing, I plead for it.

As we learned about the availability of public assistance, Todd came around and got excited about the baby. Starting a family was the traditional, idealistic "next step" in our playing house (and Todd likes his traditional ideals), so we went with it and worked on trimming our budget and tucking away as much of my income as possible so that I'd be able to take time away from work to care for the baby. The baby arrived and I was able to stay home with her in our little studio apartment for a couple months. Then Todd needed my help.

We found a self-storage facility that was looking for a couple to work as a resident management team. We would get a nice apartment and a decent salary in exchange for both of us running the office during business hours and being on-call most of the time. That worked well for us because I was able to keep the baby with me in the office.

Baby number one was extremely colicky and didn't allow me much sleep, so I was incredibly exhausted most of the time, running the office (because Todd didn't "get" how to do the computer and paperwork), keeping up with home and laundry, and caring for a fussy baby. I was busy all the time. Todd, on the other hand--because he didn't do the paperwork or much of the baby care--grew tired of sitting around doing nothing. We were supposed to both be there so that one could show lockers while the other manned the office, but Todd soon decided that he wouldn't be missed much if he ducked out in the middle of the day to play golf.

I found myself frequently stranded alone in the office trying to juggle phone calls, paperwork, diaper changes, feedings and crying (both the baby's and my own)... AND if a potential renter showed up while Todd was out playing, I'd have to pack up the baby and lock the office (which we weren't supposed to do & would get in trouble for doing if the boss called or came by while we were out). I'd have to walk down the deserted hallways with strange men who made me nervous because (as the boss had said) it really would be better to have a man showing the lockers--lest some pervert (which transients who rent lockers are more likely than the general population to be) decide to take advantage of me. So, along with being over-worked and over-tired, I was scared--scared of rapists and robbers, and of homelessness if the boss learned Todd was not keeping the office hours we had agreed to and thus decided to fire us. That job lasted a year, and then we moved to an apartment that we got for free in exchange for managing a small apartment building.

Since the apartment managing job did not pay beyond the free rent, Todd took an outside job in retail. We were hired for the apartment managing job as a couple, and when I had problems in my second pregnancy and was unable to do all the physical work around the apartment complex, Todd didn't do much to pick up the slack, and before we had even been there a full year, we ended up getting fired (incrementally). First, the owner hired a groundskeeper to pick up the slack and started charging us partial rent. This might have worked out if I had been able to collect disability pay; however, since the job we had been hired for was intended for a couple, the doctor said, "You can't do the work, but your husband can, so I can't sign for you getting disability pay." Before baby number two arrived, we got to the point that we simply couldn't afford the rent anymore, so we moved on to yet another job that hired us as a couple and provided housing. This time the work involved was not as physical, so I was able to do more of it (and again, Todd pushed all of the paperwork off on me).

I'm not going to continue with all the details about the next job, but suffice to say, a pattern was forming... and through it all, Todd managed to preserve his own leisure time activities like golfing and watching sports, and even when he wasn't working anywhere near to full-time hours, he'd complain about being over-worked, taken advantage of, and he'd remind me constantly what a burden the children and I were--how good his life was when he was single. During this time, we had a third child.

The burden of maintaining a disproportionate portion of our shared jobs, doing most of the housework and childcare (because he just didn't "identify with" babies and young children) might not have been so bad if Todd hadn't been indulging himself in leisure and complaining as if he weren't. I was the one who would field the calls from our employers when he would slack off on his work or disappear without telling anyone where he was going. I hated being put in that position. I covered for him so much, all the while admitting to myself that if I were the boss, even I would fire Todd.

With our shared jobs and his ability to sneak off and do things for himself, this would have been the ideal time for him to have pursued some of his dreams (like acting)--dreams that he complained weren't happening (even though he did nothing to make them happen... because he "didn't know how to start.")

Did I mention that when we were dating, Todd had told me that he was going to be a writer and that he would make a role for me in every play or film he wrote? Well, even though I didn't marry him for that, I was naive enough to believe that it might be possible (and to think that he was actually going to pursue his ambitions instead of sitting around and waiting for things to magically "happen.") [Looking back, I sometimes think that if "misrepresentation" is grounds for annulment, I should be able to annul the marriage based on the writer story... however, I suspect there must be some sort of a statute of limitations on annulment.]

During this time, I myself still dreamed of being involved in creative endeavors (and even though it was daunting with three small children, part-time work, and not a lot of spousal support, I did little things to keep my feet in it.) Then one day, an opportunity came knocking on our door. I had pretty much given up on acting, since we couldn't afford babysitting so that I could go on auditions, but I did like writing. I had been studying by correspondence, working on writing short stories for children and had even printed up a business card with "writer" on it.

When trying to plan a play date for the kids, I gave one of these "writer" cards to another mother from our church so she would have our phone number. A few months later, after they had moved away, her husband happened to be looking for writers. She remembered my card and told her husband that I was a writer. He contacted me to see if I'd like to be considered for a job. He knew Todd, too, and said that they were looking to hire a writing team and if we could work together it would increase my chance of being hired.

I sent samples of my writing and reluctantly included the one and only skit Todd had written (even though I knew it wasn't very good). Ultimately the partner who had the final say in hiring, liked my style and said we had the job based on that (indicating that he wanted me to basically be the lead writer because he didn't find Todd's work professional enough.) And so, in that manner, we entered into yet another job as a "team."

Since a pattern had already been established, I shouldn't have been surprised that Todd didn't do much on this project. When we met to brainstorm with the new boss (the one who the story idea belonged to), Todd didn't say much of anything... but even worse, he didn't seem to even listen. He'd excuse himself and go take a walk, or a nap, or just sit there looking at newspapers and magazines. It was embarrassing.

Creative energies would flow when the guy with the story idea (let's call him Charlie) and I worked together. He liked my ideas and we worked well together. Charlie was ambitious and didn't shy away from putting in long hours. Todd didn't "get it" and since he didn't participate, he didn't feel needed. He decided it best that he pick up the kids from the sitter and go home. Just a couple days into a job that was slated to last 10 weeks, Todd bailed, saying that he would help "if we needed him."

This job had come along at a time when we were trying to get out of debt. I was excited that the salary was good, because that meant I'd finally be able to pay off my student loans and we might be able to put a little bit away in savings for those little surprises that always come up--especially with kids. Knowing we might be able to finally get ahead a little made it worth working long hours and being away from my babies--to me it was assurance that I'd be more secure in being able to stay home with them in the future. What happened to our finances while I was working almost shocked me. Almost. Todd had opened a new credit card that he didn't tell me about, and since we had this great new income, he didn't hold back on his spending. And to think that the stereotype is of WIVES being the spendthrifts! By the time we received our last paycheck on this project, the money had all already been spent and we were further in debt than when we started.

I should have been furious, but I had no room to be judgmental, or hurt, or anything... I had no room, because I had an onerous secret.

During the hours of working on birthing a story together, Charlie and I had become close. Too close. It was wonderful having someone who seemed to be smitten with my mind. We connected like Todd and I never had.

With Todd, as I've already said, our relationship started out (and pretty much stayed) purely physical. That can be fun and exciting for a while, but without the connection of minds, it begins to feel very empty. You know all those times when I said Todd would tell me to be quiet so he could "enjoy" something? There were way too many times when the only-child/loner in Todd would push me away. Too seldom was it a "good time for this"--this being conversation, connection. It seemed that all Todd wanted me for was sex--that he would be perfectly happy if I were nothing but a couple of boobs and a crotch. An inflatable doll, in fact, would be better than me because it wouldn't have a voice.

Charlie, on the other hand, liked to play with words. We could talk and talk. His work ethic was so refreshing and impressive after what I'd been living with for almost 10 years... It was a real turn-on to be appreciated by a guy who wasn't afraid to go after his dreams full-throttle, a guy who didn't whine about things not happening, but rather took the bull by the horns and made things happen... a guy who loved my ideas and would spend hours conversing about everything under the sun.

One evening, we had just reached a milestone (I think it was a solid first draft or something like that) and Charlie suggested we go out to celebrate. The company had a generous per diam, so we ate well. We also drank well. I had too much. To be honest, I had too much on purpose. We had been shamelessly flirting as we worked together for some time. It's easier to flirt when you know that it's not going anywhere, and it obviously wasn't going anywhere because I was married... right? So, when he offered me wine, I accepted. When he offered more, I took more. I knew I was a light-weight when it comes to alcohol and yet I celebrated, and celebrated, until Charlie had to hold me up to keep me from melting into the ground.

I was so joyfully wasted, I think he even had to carry me up to my hotel room... and there he stayed... most of the night. We just talked... he may have held me a bit while I was still tipsy, but I don't think anything else happened. He apologized the next day for getting me drunk--but I didn't accept him taking the blame because I knew what I was doing--and he told me it was hard, but he just couldn't let himself take advantage of me. Before that day was over, however, we kissed--really kissed--ravenously kissed (like we knew we would never allow ourselves to do more than that, so we had to pour every bit of passion we had for each other into that kiss.) Then, probably no more than an hour later, Todd came with the kids to pick me up.

Before returning home, we were invited for dinner to the home of the guy from our church who had gotten us the job. He and his wife decided it would be nice to invite Charlie, too. It's a fuzzy memory that plays like an awkward slow-motion scene straining toward an ending on an empty tank of gas, but somehow Charlie and I managed our way through that meal at the table with my family and his co-worker's family, our kiss and our desire still lingering in the air, almost palpable to us, and hopefully invisible to them.

The rest of the job would be carried out mostly by e-mail and telephone... or at least that was the plan. We would arrange future meetings as they were needed for the progress of the project. By the next weekend, the project (?) "needed" another meeting. This time Charlie stayed at a hotel near where Todd and I lived. Charlie was still at our place when Todd went to bed, so we decided to take our conversation (about the project, of course) outside. We went for a walk in the moonlight, and as soon as we were out of eye-shot, we became ravenous animals. We might have made love right at the edge of the trail in the woods had we not looked up and seen a coyote watching us. Saved by the coyote, we decided to call it a night. Charlie went back to his hotel, and I quietly slipped into bed next to Todd, careful not to wake him because I really didn't want to have sex with him while thinking of someone else.