Journal Entry: April 2, 2014
“When your heart is broken, you plant seeds in the cracks and pray for rain.” ― Andrea Gibson
We are still on our cruise. On one hand I feel isolated, and on the other, I feel smothered. Remind me never to go on a cruise again. I have always loved the feeling of being out in the middle of the ocean, not being able to see land, a sort of exhilaration of the senses. Heading to an exotic new place every day that has the potential for wonderful adventures… the world at my feet, this always fed my wanderlust. Not so much anymore.
We had been at sea for two days. I did spend a great deal of time on our deck getting spritzed by the waves slapping against the side of the ship. I read and listened to music and tried to clear my mind. It seems, however, that when I wanted my husband to hold me and love me and make me feel needed and wanted, he had a burning desire to “work on himself,” to work on the timeline for his first step, to read his 12-step materials, to live inside himself. And when I wanted to be left alone, there he was, needing me to validate him. It is like I am the ship trying to find my shore, and he is the ocean, smacking up against me at every wake. When will we get our rhythm back?
We arrived Cartagena Colombia today. My husband had booked a private tour of the city. We both woke up in a good mood, ready to get off that ship for a few hours. On the ship, there is very little cell coverage and intermittent, and excruciatingly expensive, internet. Therefore, when we arrive at the ports, we both turn our phones on and delight in a little communication back with the real world. This morning, we were both horrified to find phone calls from the other woman. No messages, of course, just phone calls… she had called both our phones the day before, April Fools Day. Man, what a mood killer. We are still both traumatized by any communication effort by this delusional person. My trauma stems from fear, my husband’s from shame. I looked at him, and he looked at me and we both knew what the other was thinking. No need to speak the obvious… fuck that bitch!
I tried to get my previous good mood back, to block her out completely, but as we stepped in the car for our tour, I could feel my mind take a turn to the dark side. The discovery phone call from her is like a piece of tape in my mind that just plays itself no matter how hard I try to erase it: “Hi Kat, this is XXXXX. B and I have been in a relationship for about 10 years now. I just wanted to call and make sure you knew and were okay with it. B always said you were okay with it. I mean, at the beginning, he said you’d probably cut his penis off… (uncomfortable laughing). Come on Kat, you know who I am, B told you all about me. I’ve been to both HIS offices, the one on Washington, and at Broadway. We’ve travelled all over, internationally. We’ve been to Copenhagen, Finland, Seattle, San Jose, Tokyo… I can’t even count the number of times we’ve been to Tokyo together. We’ve basically been together since your son (she says his name) turned 13.” (I hang up).
She doesn’t actually mention sex. She mentions places and traveling. She says my son’s name. She makes it personal because that’s what it is to her, personal. She wants me to know it wasn’t just sex, it was a relationship.
And then as if by magic, I stop it. I stop the tape from replaying. I stop the thoughts from cycling. I become aware of what is going on around me. My husband is talking with the tour guide. We are headed to a beautiful viewing spot above the city, La Popa Monastery. Our tour includes all the wonderful sites of this amazing place and then a deliciously fresh ceviche lunch at a quaint restaurant with a view of the Caribbean Sea. One of the best aspects of this day, is the fact that my husband planned and coordinated the whole thing. This is huge. He has never taken the initiative to plan anything for us before. He was always responsible for his work, his career. That’s it. He managed to roll his workaholism and sexaholism into about 80% of any given day, in any given week, of any given month. I got everything else, the kids, the house, the bills, coordination of birthdays and presents and holiday celebrations for everyone in my family, and his, vacations, literally everything else. But for this cruise (that I had actually purchased for HIS birthday), he stepped up and became my partner. He thought about what we would both want and he booked it himself, and with confidence. This is just huge, and I do appreciate the effort. A lot.
It was a wonderful day. I am still flying high. I can do this. Through the pain of healing, I can love my life again.
I am cracked, but I am planting seeds that will grow into the strong roots of a deep, deserved happiness, and I am praying for rain.