the emptying

One of the biggest and most wonderful gifts through this ordeal has been the support and counsel of my brother-in-law, Darren's brother Chris. He's helped me see and understand things that I would've never known to see and understand, specifically, things about how Darren's introversion drives him, things about how men and women communicate differently and how that can so easily destroy even a good marriage, things about Darren's upbringing that make him the way he is, and the curse of Darren's intelligence.

There's a woman he told me about named Alison Armstrong who has spent her life studying men. Her findings are pretty amazing, and give me hope that there might be an end to this so-called "mid-life crisis", or as she calls it, "the tunnel". I spent a good deal of time reading some of her material, listening to a radio interview she gave, and feeling like my new understanding might be the key to unlocking the issues Darren hasn't been able to define. (Radio program is in 4 parts on YouTube, totaling almost an hour... well worth your time.)

Last night, I shared this information with Darren. I knew he would feel grateful that I was making efforts to understand where he is and who he is. He listened to the whole radio show with me. Then, he dismissed it completely as irrelevant to him and went to bed. I so badly wanted to talk. So I texted him,

Me: Can I ask you a question?
Him: Sure.
Me: Two weeks ago you didn't love me, never have, and didn't think there was anything worth fighting for or saving. Two days later, you said you'd try to work on our marriage, but your heart wasn't in it. Can you tell me where you are now?
Him: That's not the kind of question that can be easily answered in a text. I feel better about you - certainly not as hostile as I was feeling. I think there's been progress. But overcoming my walls has been even more daunting that I imagined.
Me: Do you know why you feel/felt so hostile?
Him: Honestly, I feel like I've been under attack for years. Certainly I've earned a share of that. Usually I feel like I can never do or say enough of the right things.
Me: Is there hope?
Him: I think with God there is always hope. That's what I believe. Even when it doesn't look hopeful.
Me: I'm sorry I've made you feel that way. I've struggled with feeling that I was ever a priority, and I punished you for not loving me. I can see that now.
Him: I think when you get back from HeartQuest, we're going to have some really good, fruitful talks.

Ok. I bristled at that statement. Was he saying that HeartQuest would fix me and make it possible for us to have good, talks? Because listen up, I have my share of problems and I know that. BUT I AM NOT THE ONE WHO IS BROKEN HERE.

Me: I don't want to read in to that, so please clarify. Do you think we can't have fruitful talks now?
Him: I think we're both still too guarded and defensive for really good talks right now.

I am so tired of being shut down. I've made concessions. I've walked on eggshells. I've not let him see me  break. I've tried to protect him. I haven't belittled him. I've been kind. I've tried to open the lines of communication. He won't budge, at least in ways that I can see.

I began to cry. At first, it was the usual, quiet crying that has become so familiar to me in the last month. The tears ran freely, dripping off my chin, running off my nose. I walked upstairs and felt the sobs emerging from deep within me. I stepped into the shower and there, I broke. I wailed. I sobbed from a place so deep that it literally burned my insides - a feeling I have never experienced before. I wondered if I would survive the gut-wrenching, agonizing, emptying of my spirit. I wondered if this is what it feels like to die. I fell in a heap on the shower floor and let my whole self become unhinged. It was excruciating and terrifying. I worried that the boys would hear my wailing and be afraid, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

I wept until I was empty, and then crawled, exhausted, into bed. I decided I couldn't continue like this, so I texted Darren again.

Me: I have loved you unconditionally. I have honored our vows. I can't do this anymore. Let me go.
Me: Let me go.
Him: I'm laying here praying for you.
Me: I would rather you pray for YOU. Please pray for you.
Me: I am loveable. I am worthy of real love.
Him: Yes you are.
Me: Then let me go.
Him: Only God can set you free - not me.
Me: WHATEVER, DARREN!!! You know what I mean!! You're the one held in bondage. I'm asking you to file for divorce already. Don't keep dragging me through this. Let me go!
Him: I broke our vows. You are free to divorce me.
Me: No. You will not make me do that. How dare you. You are the one who doesn't love me and never did. I still desperately love you. I will not file. Take responsibility. Do what has to be done.
Him: You love me, so let's do these 40 days as we pledged to.

I wept again after that, loud, ugly sobs that soaked my pillow and pierced the darkness.
Then I slept.