I had a really great weekend. Nothing much happened, but that was perfect. I did my laundry, cleaned my room, cleaned the bathroom, napped, played poker and Bowl Bound College Football and went to the gym. Took myself out to breakfast at the Gateway Breakfast House, had the pork chops and 3 scrambled eggs with hash browns and whole wheat toast, a pancake on the side, and had enough food left for a delicious lunch. The hash browns were perfect and the chops were juicy, a perfect antidote for a man's broken heart.
In short, I took good care of myself. I rested and did some of my favorite things. I didn't have much of a social life, but that was by design. Heal the wounds, and time will wound the heels. On Saturday I took myself shopping and bought a thick pair of gloves, a new electric razor, and a can of waterproofing for my gloves, boots, and my favorite Oregon Duck stocking cap Doug and Gretchen got me for Christmas year before last. Now I'm equipped for winter. This morning I read in the Sunday paper about a hiker lost on Mt. Adams for a week. He broke his ankle and had to slide on his butt and crawl, drank his own urine on the last day, ate berries and bugs. It's amazing what a person can endure. It's amazing how easily we give up sometimes, and the small things we think are a big deal.
I spoke with one of my roommates this afternoon and he is thinking of renting a house in St. Johns that he found on Craigslist so I might be saved from homelessness. I was thinking of getting a sharpie pen and a cardboard sign, but I think I'll wait and see how this pans out. Richard called me today and he's back from Mexico on Tuesday. He said everyday was sunny and beautiful and he found a reasonable place to stay, and apartment that rents for a $150 a week in a warm place that has no memory. He went to church in a little neighborhood parish today, and he called just after. "I'm walking down the street with my spanish/english dictionary," he said, "I wish you were here." My brother Mike lives in San Diego, a three wood across the border. I get a fresh 18 days of vacation in January, and if there's nothing shaking before then I might rent a car and warm my winter bones.
Dammit man, I wish this sailboat would turn around for you and Marie. I wish the prevailing winds would stop blowing you toward that same reef over and over again.
ReplyDeleteI'm no shrink. Certainly no marriage counselor (although I've seen a couple of those from the wrong end of a too-low couch).
I'll say this, from my own experience (and I'm not much younger than you, so I've had some):
The sorts of insecurities that Marie demonstrated in your previous post are absolutely the hardest to weather. They are the hardest to overcome, because only time offers evidence of fidelity, and every. single. effing. time something comes up, it's back to square one.
I've been on that bus, and I know that if there hadn't been kids involved to add a strong, but thin, thread of commitment, we'd never have made it through.
All this is, of course, of absolutely no help other than to say, brother I feel your pain and I have seen firsthand just how hard this can be.
Keep your chin up.