I’m craving connection.
My sponsor needed to cancel our phone call yesterday. She was fighting with her husband–the kind of fight you do not want to tell your friends about.
Last night, I stayed home while he took his kids out. Our house guest chatted with me at the kitchen table. He needed a sounding board. His job is uncertain after a massive plant fire.
When he returned home last night, later than expected, he was tired. We ate largely in silence–he quietly searched the Internet for a new pair of jeans, and I tried to make conversation. And then we went to bed. I wanted to connect, he wanted to sleep.
From bed, I reached out to a CoDA friend who shared that she, too, is feeling disconnected from her partner. She’s restless, and left wanting. And then she, too, was tired, and said goodnight.
Last night, I dreamt I was pregnant. My belly was round and I could feel slight flutters and kicks from within. I sat in a classroom filled with expectant parents, and yet, I was alone. At some point, the father of my child entered the room. He was beautiful, with long brown hair and dark eyes. He didn’t say a word, but seemed remorseful for not being there for me. Tears welled in his eyes, and my own began to fill with emotion.
And then, he began tiptoeing in circles, arms outstretched, taking on an otherworldly air. In an instant, he transformed from a remorseful man to an overgrown child. And then he spoke.
I went on a date with Christie. She’s so hot.
I said nothing in response. I felt my heart sink. As I watched him walk himself in circles, I thought only that it was time to let go. He was not going to change. He did not love me.
So, I left. I left to a foreign country. Or a different town, I could not tell you now. There were shops and cobbled sidewalks. I was figuring out train schedules. I had a backpack with a snake wrapped around the strap. I found it remarkable that it would not untangle itself from my bag and leave.
When I woke, my abdomen felt painful, slightly distended.
The sensation has since subsided, but the memory of my dream has not.
When he woke, he instantly left the bed and showered. Then he primped and preened. He slid on his new jeans, and fastened his new belt around his waist. He looked handsome as he stood ready to leave for work.
As he got dressed, I asked him questions and received one word answers.
How did you sleep?
Will you be in Greenville today?
What have you got on your agenda?
Eventually, as he leaned over the bed to kiss me goodbye, he asked me: What are your plans today?
Work and seeking connection, I replied.
Then he kissed me and left.