The Day After

I'm staying at a friend's house. They're being really good to me, as good friends always are. I went to the house today to check on the wife and child. We hung out, went and got McDonald's and went to the park.

That was all uneventful enough. When our son went down for a nap she wanted to talk some more. It seemed like she went through all the stages of grief in the span of an hour. There was denial when I got there. The house had been cleaned and she was trying to look happy. This hurts.

There was bargaining. "What if we just set a date for one month away and if it doesn't work then that's that" and various other compromises.

Anger. She was visibly angry. She says not at me but at herself for messing everything up. Of course I told her this wasn't the case and that we can't regret who we are.

I can't remember the other two stages. I can sum them up for you though. I feel like shit. This is the reaction I expected from her. It was obvious that I caught her by complete surprise. This, to me, only cements what I've believed to be true. That while we're deeply in love, we aren't friends and we don't "care" about each other.

Not the sort of caring where you worry if someone doesn't call or drop everything and rush to the hospital when one gets bitten by say...I don't know...fire ants. The sort of caring that makes you excited when the other person does well and sad when they don't. The kind of caring that lets you see what the other person needs and provide it without being asked.

Maybe this kind of caring doesn't exist. Maybe it does.

I think in the end she understands my point and sees that I'm not being difficult and that I'm not blaming her. I hope, in the future, that we can become friends. Maybe someday, more than friends. That's not to say I'm changing my mind, just to say that I believe in the ability of people to change once they truly see that they can.