Content to Be Me

A few weeks ago, my "therapist" told me that when he looks at me, he sees someone who is celebrated, and yet is not comfortable in her own skin. He also said something about "a sexual revolution" being in order... but I'll not touch on that now... because morality aside, "a sexual revolution" would be dangerous for someone not comfortable in her own skin. A sexual relationship (or any relationship, for that matter) can only be good if it's individual partners are comfortable enough to trust.

So I've been thinking about what it takes to be comfortable--something I haven't been for some time--and it seems to me that a lot of well-intended advise actually can drive a person away from a place of honesty where he or she can become comfortable enough to trust. We're told to pretend. The whole idea of couples counseling seems to be much more focused on an image than it is on healthy individuals.  

I've been talking with Charlie. (I know some of you would say I shouldn't do that.) But, it's been good. And you know what? (Now this has nothing to do with sex, so don't get your panties in a bunch!) With Charlie, I am content to be me, and that's a nice way to be. This whole platonic friendship thing may be challenging, given our history and our memories... but having a friend with whom I can feel so comfortable in my being (not just my skin... I'm still not there with anyone, really... but in my being is even deeper) ...that's worth facing off the challenge, I think.

Novel Idea

I'm working on a novel that, although it is definitely fiction, has a lot of autobiographical stuff in it. It will be interesting to see where it goes if I get any publishers interested in it.... Will I be able to let Todd read it? or will I keep it a secret from him?

Within the story, I'm tackling some of my deepest fears. If a person cannot be honest with another person about her fears, how are they supposed to have a relationship? And yet, how Todd would react if I were to share that sharing my deepest fears with him IS one of my deepest fears.

This novel could end up being the true test of our relationship.

I'm tired of being fake, and yet I want to feel safe. Is there a place where a person can be both genuine AND safe? I would run there so fast my running would turn to flight.

Nudge, Nudge, Wink, Wink, Say No More... The Gospel According to Monty Python

I've always loved how seemingly unrelated subjects can piece together and create a sense of unity, integration. My favorite classes in college were those that combined disciplines. A compartmentalized life is no life at all--it is merely a mechanical drudgery. There is a certain flow that makes me feel more comfortable in my world and in my skin when I am able to recognize the interconnectedness of it all.

A blog I recently read, entitled Learning to Be Unhappy, made this excellent point:

"Alot of people that I work with have been learning to be unhappy much of their lives. The tendency is to compartmentalise their lives and say that they are doing great at work but their home life is a mess or vice-versa . This is a false dichotomy . You have one life - not a "home life" and a "work life" and a "something else life." And if any one aspect of your life is out of whack, your life is not working and the ramifications are felt everywhere."

"You have one life." I like that. It resonates of all that has seemed most truthful in all my years of existence. Everything is more bearable when put in the proper perspective. Pain wasn't meant to be separated from love (and visa versa), just as seriousness wasn't meant to overshadow silliness. It all pieces together and enriches the totality of this thing we call life.

Likewise, at the risk of sounding heretical, I love it when Biblical Scripture meets Monty Python. Follow me, if you will, down the bunny trail of my ADD (if you have a similar mind, this will make sense, if not... well, enjoy being normal).

In the quest to find God's answers to my relational woes, I've been reading a lot in Proverbs, the Gospels, and Ephesians lately. I was going to make a blog entry with some of the verses that have been jumping out at me (especially Proverbs)--verses that have been speaking to me about what it means to be a helpmeet and how "speaking the truth in love" fits in. As any reader who has been following me lately knows, I've really been grappling with the balance of calling out those things which I find unacceptable in a relationship and being humble enough to search out those things that are unacceptable in me. The verse from Matthew 7:3 about how we should take the plank out of our own eyes before attempting to take the speck out of a brother's eye has been a touchstone. So, in preparing to blog, I googled "plank eye images" and found this lovely gem:

The image led me to the blog it was created for: a piece entitled Yank the Plank by Steve Lummer. Since this blog was part two of a post on “Negotiating Change with people you care about”. I thought it might be a good idea to also look at part one, so I checked out Steve's archives.

ADD prevailing (or divine guidance or a simple case of getting lost), I ended up stumbling upon a different (but nonetheless appropriate) entry: Mending Broken Relationships (yet another case of things tying together.) The verse about soup and steak at the beginning was a verse I had just read earlier today, and there was some really good stuff to chew on in that blog. In answer to the question, "Are relational deaths predictable?", Blogger Lummer cited the three "R"s of Resentment, Retaliation, and Resignation as predecessors of relational death. The verse he connected to resignation fit in so well with the discussion that developed in the comments on my Is Honesty the Best Policy? Even on a Holiday? blog. He quoted the verse from the Good News Translation of the Bible (which, although the deep meaning may be the same, on the surface it sounds quite different from the translations I am used to reading). The verse read:

“Someone who holds back the truth causes trouble, but one who openly criticizes works for peace."

Proverbs 10.10 (Good News)

This is where Monty Python comes in. (And you thought I was lost on that bunny trail!) When I googled Proverbs 10:10 the King James Version translation jumped out at me, reminding me of a favorite old Monty Python sketch...

"He that winketh with the eye causeth sorrow: but a prating fool shall fall."

Proverbs 10:10 (KJV)

...a sketch that incidentally refers to marriage.

All of this rambling brings me nicely back to my original intention of today's blog. It seems that most of the comments on this blog have come from other women, who are or have been in situations similar to mine. That's great. It helps so much to know that I'm not alone. However, since I'm not wanting to stall out in pity party mood or define myself (or my sisters) by our misery, I'm hoping that some readers who have seen the other side to the equation (the male perspective), might comment on how a wife can fulfill the role of helpmeet, and speak the truth in love. I do realize that there are a lot of times when we're better off remaining silent and letting our actions speak... but there are times when remaining silent seems an awful lot like winking and unwittingly condoning destructive behavior.

Case in point: Yesterday, a man who has given Todd work in the past left a message on our phone, saying that since Todd hadn't returned his calls when he had called to ask him to work, this man had hired someone else to do the work. He said he hoped Todd was finding work because he knew times were hard and we needed it, but he couldn't wait around while Todd was apparently "hiding under a rock." He mentioned the name of the person he had given the job to and gave a ballpark estimate of how much the man had made on that and another job he had passed his way because Todd would not respond. In the time since this man dropped by to see Todd because his calls were not being answered (when Todd was sleeping in and refused to come to the door), this other man was estimated to have made about five thousand dollars. During that same time period, Todd has only deposited five hundred dollars to our bank account. We are so deeply in debt and on the verge of late payments all the time that five thousand would have been a dream. The message this man left was not harsh, but he was trying to be honest and speak the truth in love. He was obviously trying to open Todd's eyes to missed opportunities so that he wouldn't miss them in the future. He didn't have to take the time to do this. What was Todd's reaction? He called up the other guy--the one who was hired to the work--and quizzed him to try to find holes in the boss's story.

"[The boss] didn't pay Edgar, someone else did, and that job didn't pay five thousand dollars... more like half that amount," Todd said. He completely ignored the fact that the boss was referring to more than one job and that he never claimed to have been the one who paid the man or to have known the exact amount. Todd was nit-picking details to try to prove that he hadn't been foolish (defensively shifting blame, as usual), and yet, the proof is in our near-to-overdrawn bank account.

So, then I'm reading in Proverbs and I come across the verse:

"He who disdains instruction despises his own soul, but he who heeds rebuke gets understanding. The fear of the LORD is the instruction of wisdom, and before honor is humility."

-Proverbs 15:32-33

and

"Folly is joy to him who is destitute of discernment, but a man of understanding walks uprightly. Without counsel, plans go awry, but in the multitude of counselors they are established." (v. 21-22)

It would be one thing if Todd didn't claim to believe that Bible stuff, but he sees himself as righteous. What am I to make of that?

"A scoffer does not love one who corrects him, nor will he go with the wise." (v. 12)

We're supposed to be a team--one flesh. I'm getting tired of being on the losing team.

"The LORD will destroy the house of the proud, but He will establish the boundary of the widow." (v. 25)

I feel like a widow. What's a wife to do when hubby's just not getting it and it's become more than she can bear? I'd like to hear a husband's reply.

Is there a way that the truths stated above can be shared in humility, in a way that would get through to a man's heart?

"A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. The tongue of the wise uses knowledge rightly, but the mouth of fools pours forth foolishness."

-Proverbs 15:1-2

Unless things change, I'm just not ever going to be able to be "a go" or "a sport" with him without feeling like a total fraud if you know what I mean... nudge, nudge, wink, wink... say no more.

Is Honesty the Best Policy? Even on a Holiday?

Our anniversary is coming up next week. I've been dreading it. Dishonesty is suffocating, but honesty is difficult to phrase in a way that won't be interpreted as unloving. While dishonesty might appease Todd's fantasy that everything is "okay" for the time being, it will not hold us forever.

How often--when Todd has erupted at the inconvenience of having dependents--has it crossed my mind that the very best anniversary gift I could give him would be a divorce? Then he might at last have a chance to see if he would be satisfied by the type of happiness he seems to think he deserves (all the stuff he wants, when he wants it, without anybody else in the way . . . blocking the screen, or using the last of the milk on their cereal when he needs it for his coffee, or asking him to remember to deposit some of his pay in the household account before the automatic payments cause overdraft charges again . . . )

He blew up on Mother's Day. The kids had done a pretty good job cleaning up the kitchen, but then we had pancakes and Todd decided it was time to get the youngest (we'll call him Matt) to load the dishwasher. I guess Matt didn't hop to it quickly enough, or he asked if he could finish what he was doing first... something didn't fit Todd's template and he started yelling until our son was crying. Then he yelled at him for crying. The altercation broadcast across the entire house. Happy Mother's Day.

"Why are you crying now?" Todd drilled.

"I don't know," Matt answered, sobbing. Matt has a bit of a speech impediment, and as is common, he becomes more difficult to understand when he is emotionally upset. I could understand him fine from the other room, but Todd gets impatient and doesn't really listen to others if the answer isn't what he wants to hear.

"What?" Todd blared.

"I don't know," Matt answered.

Todd mimicked the speech impediment, making our son cry even more.

"I don't know why I cry," Matt answered, getting even worse. "I try not to, but I can't help it."

Matthew was obviously embarrassed by the fact that he couldn't control his crying. I know that feeling. I've been there.

Todd started slamming the dishes around, putting them in the dishwasher himself, and when Matt tried to help, Todd told him to go away. This prompted Matt to cry even more. He has a tender heart, and is my most cheerful helper of all the kids. He wanted to help and now he was not only being mocked, he was also being denied the opportunity to do the right thing. Todd wanted to be sure that he felt badly about himself.

Matt ran out of the kitchen crying so hard he was shaking. I took him in my arms, calmed him and thanked him for being willing to help. I told him not to be ashamed and to walk back in the kitchen and calmly tell his daddy he was sorry for not helping when he was asked, let him know that he was ready to do the dishes and that Mommy wanted him to have a second chance. I thought, if a child came to me and sincerely said that, I would give him another chance, and surely Todd would see treating his son decently as a sort of Mother's Day gift.

Matt put on his brave face and tried, but Todd just yelled at him to go away, saying it was too late. When Matt ran to his room, I marched into the kitchen, determined to call out this ridiculous emotional abuse.

"It's Mother's Day, and I want Matt to have another chance to do the dishes," I said forcefully.

"No. I know what I'm doing," Todd answered. I could tell that he was holding back from fighting with me, I suppose because of the day it was. (Could you say that holidays promote evil because forced goodwill is dishonesty? Maybe that's why I've come to dislike holidays--all holidays--more and more with each passing year.)

"What? Are you trying to make him hate you?" I asked.

He laughed it off, like I was stupid and he was some sort of expert in child rearing, his plan incapable of failing. I tried to reason with him, but he was cocky about it and refused to listen.

Was I so wrong to want peace in the house and an opportunity for my son to learn about mercy? Especially on Mother's Day--the day that was supposed to be for me? (I guess that would have been asking for a show, a lie . . . the very thing that I'm most dreading as our anniversary approaches.)

As that day draws near, I've been asking myself: Is honesty the best policy? I know that enabling bad behavior is not good for any of us, but are there days that we should refrain from calling out the things that are not acceptable? Are there special days and seasons when we should just hold our tongues and put up with the &#@%?

I was talking with a colleague the other day, and finally broke down and told her what was going on with Todd. She was a good listener, but she kept trying to connect Todd's behavior to the fact that he is grieving the loss of his mother. I don't doubt that the grief could exasperate the emotions that already are out of his control so much of the time, but the truth is, I really haven't seen any discernible difference in Todd's behavior since his mother passed away last fall. He's the same old @$$#*?% he was before. This colleague said you have to give a person a full year to "get back to normal" after a loss like that.

"Get back to normal?" I thought. Why would I want him to get back to his normal?

This is his normal. He hasn't changed. I'm the one who has changed; I've just finally gotten to the point that I can't take business as usual any more.

There are truths that need to be spoken, expectations and boundaries that need to be declared out loud . . . before they are allowed to simmer to the boiling point and explode. But things keep coming up--getting in the way of honesty: holidays, illness and death, the demands of work . . . It seems that there is always a reason to put off speaking the hard truth . . . but lying is not loving.

Oh, what a paradox: Could saying "I don't love you" possibly be the most loving thing a person could do? Or is it better to get a sappy generic card with sentiment you don't believe, go out for a dinner you can't afford, fake enjoyment of company you can barely tolerate, and smile a plastic smile to cover up the pain just because it's another one of those holidays . . . another one of those evil holidays?

I've tried to think of a kind, gentle way to say what is on my heart, but everything comes off as sounding potentially bitchy. After all, that's what a woman who is disagreeable is--a bitch, right? A man I'm working on a project with said something about his ex-wife the other day and the word just rolled of his tongue: "She's still a bitch," he said. I haven't known him long, and I've never met his wife, but this man is gruff and domineering and I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by "bitch" -- Perhaps, I thought, he meant that she was just like him, but female. It's still kind of that way in much of our society. We make excuses for him: "He's strong-willed," "more of a leader than a follower," etc. Guys laugh it up. "That's just the way he is. It's funny!" But an assertive woman? Get ready for the personal attack and the label.

What label would you give me if I gave my husband an anniversary card that said something like this:

"I'm tired of trying in vain. I'm tired of being met with mockery or derision every time I try to bare my soul. I'm through. It's our anniversary, but as far as I'm concerned we're not even married any more. We haven't been for some time. We both know that God instituted marriage to be a picture of His love for the church. We know Ephesians 5, but we don't know how to live it. I can't feign respect for you any more than you seem to be able to make sacrifices to show me love. If you want another anniversary, you're going to have to woo me back. I don't trust you enough to try anymore. You're going to have to prove to me that I can trust you. If not, who are we fooling? We might as well end the charade."

The front of the card could show a picture of a tennis ball bouncing in front of a net along with the words, "The ball's in your court now..."

What do you think?

Would it be bitchy to drop the charade less than a year after his mother passed away? Or while his dad's still in the rehabilitation center, waiting to to learn if he'll ever be able to return home again? Would it be bitchy to speak the truth on our anniversary? Maybe I should do it the day before our anniversary so he can save the cost of a dinner we can't afford, but that would still be during the grieving grace period . . .

How many more evil holidays must we endure?

Strength from Safety

I've been fluctuating a lot this week. The past has shown me the damage that can be done by impulsive action, so, even though an accusing voice in my head calls me weak for not "doing something," I think where I am right now is searching for clarity. Seeing clearly is essential if I am to make wise decisions, and presently there is too much confusion.

I've been praying for wisdom. While researching a project, I stumbled upon an article on divorce that seemed to verify the sense that I've had of being deserted.

http://www.beliefnet.com/Love-Family/Relationships/2007/06/Let-There-Be-Divorce.aspx

I'll have to look back on the actual vows that Todd and I agreed to (even if I actually didn't say the vows, as Todd alleges, he said them... I think). I wonder if there was any mention of provision in the vows of the church we were married in. However it was worded, I think it's pretty obvious that there has been some vow-breaking in both directions here.

All that said, I don't question my right to divorce. That isn't the issue. The issue is whether or not I should assert that right.

"All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify."

1 Corinthians 10:23

The world does not revolve around me. There are others to be considered. I don't want to be responsible for causing another to stumble because of my own selfish actions. That's the bigger picture. That doesn't mean I should be a doormat or an enabler... but it does mean that I'd better be good and sure that I have examined my own heart.

I've often said that the world would be a better place if people would put more emphasis on their responsibilities than their rights. I know my rights. What I'm seeking clarity on now is my responsibility. Unlike the impression that I've gotten from Todd, I know that responsibility is not a burden, but rather a wonderful opportunity to fulfill what we are designed to do. Part of the reason Todd has been miserable for so much of his life is because he doesn't embrace the opportunity of responsibility. Living with him, and feeling neglected, I too must admit having fallen into that trap. "Todd's not going to contribute or sacrifice, so why should I?"

After my last blog posting, a dear, true friend admonished me:

I really think that the cat is out of the bag! He has not verbalized the ending to his story until now, cuz he knows that you will not be interested in it. SO he is passively leading you down the road to his ending, with no options. You seem to instinctively know the end he had in mind and in your own denial were stalling and hoping that God would save you or provide a different ending. I think you need to speak your desire out loud! You have to “call it out”! you have to speak the truth in love and tell him NO! his ending would be suicide for you…..your dream, the one you were made for has gotten off track. He is abusing you to live his dream, with no consideration for yours. I predict he will blame you with your own religion. I believe he will brow beat you with the Bible verses. You have to believe that they are lies and manipulations. I think you have been very very patient and actually enabling him all these years. I think in order to be guilt free, you have to start to call this stuff out into the open. You need some Back up plans though. I did have to leave a couple of times, I did not have a full blown plan, but I did have to call it out! I felt I had to give [my husband] a chance to make the right choice. I think you have to tell him flat out, that you are not interested in his ending. I do not think you should be afraid. I also think that you need to get a better understanding on the legal system.... [This] is a no fault state. I think you need to freeze your assets before he bankrupts you and then splits to his dad’s. DON”T LAY DOWN! Or faint!

The thing that stood out to me was the idea of giving Todd a chance to make the right choice. Calling out my desires. Let him know that I'm not interested in the ending he is headed toward. I feel like I've done that, but have I done it specifically enough and clearly enough? It's not even so much an issue of his dreams vs. mine. When I read her words, "He is abusing you to live his dream, with no consideration for yours", I thought that wasn't exactly true. It's more like he's so afraid of pursuing his own dreams that he's settling, and he's pulling me down with him.

He may have a dream of a life of ease back where he grew up, but deep down inside I believe he realizes what a fantasy that is. He knows that moving back home would mean the death of his dreams, too, but he's too afraid to do anything else. Because of this, I wonder if the "calling out" I really need to do is the pointing out of how he is throwing his own dreams away and insisting that I'm not willing to go down that path. It would be unloving for me to let him commit emotional suicide by giving up without a fight.

What if the best way to make him fight for what is important to him is to leave him? That is possible. What's keeping me from doing it?

Well, in the midst of my growing resolve to quit being an enabler and to be more proactive, circumstances have taken another sudden turn. I've heard it said that there are certain stressful circumstances during which you shouldn't make big life-altering decisions (things like hormonal fluctuations of pregnancy or menopause, grieving over a lost loved one, extreme sleep-deprivation, etc.) After the Charlie fiasco, I've tried not to repeat that decision-making faux pas. In fairness, I can't ask Todd to do that either.

A few months ago, Todd lost his mom. No longer having the "other woman" controlling his life has been a change that I can see could be positive in the long run as far as growing up goes. She was an incredible enabler--sending him checks to cover our mortgage and bills more than he ever admitted to me. His dad has helped out, too, but he's not as regular with his support, so we have been struggling more since his mom passed away. That led me to pose the question to a friend: "If it has been Todd's parents, and not Todd, who have been providing for us all these years... when they both pass away will that make me a widow?" Well, just days after asking that, Todd's dad landed in the hospital. Things are pretty chaotic right now, but one thing that is questionable is if his dad will be able to go home alone. He's just about used up his allowed time in the hospital, and will be transferring to a rehabilitation home across the street from the hospital in a few days. It's uncertain if he will ever be able to go home on his own.

I do not want my [alleged child-molester] father-in-law moving in with us, but I also don't want to move out of state to be with him, so I did suggest the idea that if he needs our help, it would be easier for us if he were to relocate than for us to relocate. He's not a very social person and he's out-lived most of the friends he had, so he wouldn't miss nearly as many people as we would if we were forced to move (including our adult and soon-to-be-adult children who certainly would not follow us out of state)... and since he's retired, it wouldn't make sense for us to be the one's moving away from schools and better job opportunities. I wish Todd could spend some time with his father, but we don't have the money for him to fly or drive out there, and we definitely can't afford for him to walk away from the work he has right now (since it's such a rarity). Our son made the comment that it's too bad we don't have more money so Daddy can just go back and stay with Grandpa for a while. He has no idea how much Mommy wishes we could afford that, too. I think him being away for a while right now might be a very good thing. He could see if he is able to find work back there. He could see if going home really would make him happy. And doing so might make the transition easier if we aren't going to make it.

I'm really not afraid of him bankrupting us nearly as much as I'm afraid of being stuck with a man I cannot respect. Last Sunday's sermon text--wouldn't you know it--came from Ephesians 5. If I'm convicted by my inability to respect, shouldn't he also be convicted by his shirking of loving me "as Christ loved the church and laid down his life for her"? The ultimatum, if it comes down to that, is that he has to grow up and take some responsibility. "I don't know what to do," just won't cut it anymore. How do I tell him that he'd better figure it out? And is now the appropriate time?

If it is decided that his dad will not be moving home, we may be faced with the challenge of what to do with his dad's house sooner than I expected. That could be an opportunity for growth. Will he try to hold on to an unneeded house for sentimental reasons while teetering on the edge of loosing our family home? (We've been waiting a long time for him to "leave his mother and father and cleave unto his wife"). Will he work with his dad to sort through the years of accumulated stuff and sell the house or rent it out? Or will he insist on moving back there so his dad can stay in the house a little longer, even if it means going alone?

If it does come to some sort of ultimatum, it will either have to be in writing, or with some sort of mediation. I don't feel emotionally safe conversing with Todd about these things. It has never turned out well in the past. Is it a sign of weakness to admit that I don't feel safe?

Not feeling safe... That makes me think of another little (slightly odd) thing that I almost blogged about last week:

There is one television show that I'm addicted to. Fringe. Anyone who follows the show knows that Peter and Olivia have loved each other for some time, but have struggled with connecting largely because of Olivia's fears. In last week's episode, Olivia was in danger because the deceased William Bell (Leonard Nemoy) had taken over her body and what was supposed to be a temporary situation threatened to permanently displace Olivia as her consciousness became "lost." The team was forced to take LSD and go into her mind in search of Olivia (gotta love Sci-Fi!) Anyway, after traveling through an Inception-like world that even included cartoons and zombies, Peter was finally able to find Olivia by figuring out the last place she had ever felt safe. Even though she ultimately had to save herself, the strength to do so came from discovering that safe place within her. When she came to, she was like a new person, free and safe for the first time in years. As I watched the conclusion of that silly little episode, a wave of emotion washed over me, and I thought, Oh how I wish I could find my safe place!

Where it gets interesting is this week, when we were watching the following episode, there was a scene near the beginning in which Olivia wakes up in Peter's arms. She is content and happy like her character has never before been. In that instance, Todd said, "They finally figured it out, didn't they?" I'm sure he would like to awaken in the bliss that Peter did, with a woman who loves and respects him in his arms. If only he could understand that a big reason that isn't happening is that with him, I struggle to find a safe place where I can be truly honest. I am like Olivia, wounded and hiding.

Don't Go Breakin' My Heart (part 1)

Waaaa!!! There now, I feel better.

This is one of my favorite childhood pictures. It comforts me in it's function as an excellent example of the continuity of life. In a world of unpredictability, there are somethings that don't change--like the way the men in my life ultimately make me feel. The flow of emotion from that precious little face of mine was so honest, uncensored, pure. I didn't feel the need to pretend to be happy just because mom wanted a nice picture. I was free-- free to JUST BE. Oh the lessons I could learn from that little girl!

Since I'm not really Bridget, and thusly (I should try to use that pretentious ditty in each blog) ...thusly you won't be able to track down Bridget's lovers in the real world, I'm thinking I can be honest.

Where to start?

The beginning would be too trite, so let's start a few weeks before my wedding.

I had been out of town on a business trip and I stopped by to spend some time with the man I was about to marry. Let's call him Todd. The door to Todd's apartment was wide open and music spilled out into the hallway. I let myself in, looked around for him, and finally found him painting in the stairwell leading up to the next level of the building he was managing in exchange for free rent in a total dive. "I'll be right down. Let yourself in," he said. I don't think it took more than a few minutes for us to land in bed.

Before we were done, there was a pounding on the apartment door. My betrothed ignored it and went on with the business of our reunion. The pounding and the ignoring continued until at last, the door flung open. It was the owner of the building, there to see what was so important that had caused his employee to waste his money by leaving paint in open buckets, drying in the hall. Todd was angry, and proceeded to carry on an argument with his landlord/boss, just outside the bedroom door. I sat wrapped in a sheet, waiting to retrieve my clothes from the kitchen, and imagining the cross-dressing landlord fingering my unmentionables.

That happening, by itself, should have been a "what was I thinking?" moment. (1) As an ambitious college graduate, what was I doing with a dropout in a filthy old apartment building in a scary neighborhood? (2) Knowing the value of respect for property and honorable work ethics, why was I participating with Todd in the sabotage of his position in management? (3) Why was I about to marry one man when I'd never gotten over another, simply because I was already tied to him by a sexual addiction or misconception that marriage would somehow atone for the sins I had stumbled into?

That should have been enough, but it wasn't. After the landlord had left with the threat that he would charge Todd for any more paint he had to buy to complete the job, because it was his fault if it dried out, I had to work hard to encourage Todd not to do anything he would regret in his anger. He vowed to mess the whole place up, but I reminded him that the landlord would probably sue him. Finally, he went to pack up the paint and supplies, leaving the job half done.

While he was up in the stairwell and I was in the kitchen fixing lunch, a woman just walked right in the front door without knocking. When she saw me standing in the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks, her face turning white. "Who are you?" she asked. Ouch. Denial is a deep river, but try as I might to pretend the tone of her voice wasn't saying what I thought it was saying, I knew.

Todd walked in. Awkward. "This is Bridget, my friend." My face must have said, "what?" because he continued, "...my fiance."

Cloe or Madge or Bambie or whatever her name was made some quick excuse, "I was just passing by to say 'hi' but I've got to run." And before I could blink she was gone.

He didn't know anyone but me in this town. He had just moved there, following me because he wanted to marry me (after I had run away, across two state lines--but that's another story.) I had only been out of town for a few days, and here was someone who seemed to be someone to him. He told me he had gone out to get a bite... I think it was happy hour at a bar or something like that. And she had started a conversation with him. He could have left it at that. I didn't ask any more. But he went on to say, "She asked me if I'd ever been in love."

Okay. She wasn't very attractive and seemed a bit awkward, so I could believe she might start out with a line like that. He could have left it at that. I didn't even think to ask him his answer... I mean, of course he had been in love... he was engaged! He could have left it like that, but he went on to say, "I told her 'no'--I don't know why I said that--wasn't thinking, I guess."

I don't really remember the rest of the conversation, if there was any more to it. I think he eventually told me that he now realized that he may have given her the wrong impression. You think, Todd? In retrospect, I think he was giving me a way out. If I had any self-respect, I would have taken it.

What was my thought process that kept me from walking out that door and never turning back? Good question. I'll try to get to that in the next installment.