Today, this statement holds more truth to me than it did back then. In fact, I feel this statement is at the very epicenter of every relationship; the deciding factor in what makes or breaks a relationship.
When I first fell in love with hubbie, I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I was completely invested, ‘til death do us part, and we weren’t even married. Our love was strong, and life was bliss. I had found my man, and I didn’t need anything else.
Then the “stuff” started piling up; at first financial, and then sexual, and that’s when I stopped being invested in the same way. Suddenly I felt different about us, our future, and whether I even wanted one with hubbie anymore. I didn’t start “looking” per se, but I definitely started feeling open to meeting other people, and seeing what might happen…
The discussions of opening our relationship began. I was frustrated, he was too. We didn’t turn each other on anymore, and it had nothing to do with physical attraction. We just, hit a wall, which became glaringly apparent in Vancouver this past New Years. We were in a different city, a different bed, it was New Years, yet there was nothing to celebrate, and that’s why we didn’t fuck.
I came home from Vancouver wanting a divorce, barely one foot in anymore, and it showed; in how I was acting, treating, responding to hubbie, and in how I was behaving. I stopped inviting him to go places, preferring instead an evening out with a friend, or even alone, and he did too. We became more like roommates and less like a couple; if for three years we had been inseparable, we now could have been sleeping in separate beds.
Hubbie was never, and is probably never, going to agree to an open relationship. And after reading Margaret Atwood’s Life Before Man, and seeing the movie Closer, I’m starting to think he’s probably right to take that stance. I’m starting to think there is something unnecessary about being completely honest with your spouse about everything. Not that I think you should have a long torrid affair behind your partner’s back, but if you decide to do it, maybe it doesn’t help to speak of it either.
As luck may or may not have it, we never went there. Mine and hubbie’s relationship didn’t go that far down the path of no return. What changed? What happened? Why am I (we) suddenly back in my (our) marriage? I’m going to say, it happened on my 35th birthday.
Hubbie was going to be out of town over my birthday weekend. Not on purpose, it just worked out that way, and I was fine with it. I actually thought, this is for the best. I want to go out and party, maybe do some clubbing, partake in some shenanigans with some girlfriends, and hubbie is not into clubbing. At least not in L.A. where there always seems to be some kind of “issue” with bringing a man.
I was ready to celebrate, but as a result of a one clusterfuck after another I neither really partied, nor clubbed, nor even saw a whole lot of friends. In fact I spent most of my birthday weekend, alone.
I started thinking, “what the fuck am I doing with my life?” Do I really care to be getting drunk and crazy, seeking some thrill ride, and then dealing the hangover? I have had enough adventures in late night debauchery to write ten books on, do I really care about this shit at 35? Do I really want a divorce? And over what? That we’re having some issues in the bedroom, that maybe we’re not as nice to each other as we used to be, because we’re more real and open, and honest?
I am not in my twenties anymore, nor do I want to be. I’m 35 and I want something more meaningful. I want to be doing what I love more. I want to be a writer. I want to be a New York Times bestselling author. I want a home. And I want to have a family. With hubbie. That is what I want . Not bar hopping and attention-seeking, and inviting scandal into my life. At 35, I can honestly say I’m done with that. And that, is what has changed my state of mind about the state of my relationship.