Any More To Eat, Mom?

We picked up Andy at the airport last night! He’s home on leave from the Marine Corps for three weeks, and I’m such a happy mom! Although, the first thing I did this morning was spend money on him…a one-month pass to the fitness center (that the clerk gave me permission to use after he leaves), and $50 worth of “good food” like meat and vegetables. The child eats like a horse, constantly and in vast quantities.

I am becoming so restless. David spent the night on Saturday at his mom’s house, and they went to church on Sunday and visited several friends, one in a nursing home. I’m really glad he had a good time. David came home all excited, wanting to tell me all about everything that happened.

I can understand that, truly. And I waited a day to post, just so I wouldn’t pour out my frustration in a jumbled mess. I can just say what I feel, and that’s just what I feel. There is no two-way communication with us anymore, and I don’t know why that is. I listened to him for at least an hour, telling me everything that happened to him over the weekend, without being able to say a word in return or tell him how my weekend was before he left the room to go play on the computer.

We used to talk, to dialogue, but not really anymore. I used to try to slip in little bits about what I was doing, or how my day was, but not anymore. Then I felt bad for awhile about not telling him anything about myself. But I don’t even feel bad anymore. It scares me a little. I’ve grown so apart from him. I have a life, the only life I have or will ever have again, and if he isn’t interested in me and my life, I can’t muster up much interest in his, though I try — I pretend to, and I don’t think he can tell the difference.

I would hope that someone would be interested in my life, how I am doing, what I am thinking about, and I would especially hope that person would be the man I chose to marry and spend the rest of my life with. Did I make a mistake in choosing him? If I think back, I can’t say I was really head over heels in love with him. I know real life is not a romance novel, but I am sure there are people out there who are totally in love with their spouse.

I’m so glad nobody I know is reading this. So far, nobody at all is reading this. I can feel free to say anything I want. My husband is a nice guy, anyone would tell you that. He does talk a lot, people have said that, too. I am a quiet person. He has proven to me that he isn’t interested in what I have to say unless it involves him in some way, so I have lost the desire to even try anymore. If I talk to him, I make a point to just ask him questions about what he thinks and how his day was. If there is a silence, I have learned it just means he is thinking about what to say next. If I insert an opinion into the silence, just on the off-chance that he might be listening, he usually does not acknowledge what I just said. He  just goes on with his own conversation as if I wasn’t even there. I just do it to be polite, so now I just sit and wait for him to say everything he is thinking about. It’s the only way not to get my feelings hurt.

If I am going to make the effort to really talk to someone, I at least expect them to show me the courtesy of listening and responding. I do have girlfriends who do that for me, so I am not totally alone.

I could go on, but I’ll stop. I don’t want to sound like a bitter and depressed woman, because I am really not like that. I’m a “whatever” kind of person, which is the only way to be a wife to David. Besides, it’s been 10 minutes since Andy ate, he’s probably hungry again. I’ll be cooking for the next three weeks! But I’ll be feeding my boy, so it’s all good.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s