I’ve moved out

We were out for the evening, catching up with an old friend and sampling artisinal spirits, as is the current trend. It was a great evening.
We moved on to a restaurant and ordered a jug of cocktails. Having imbibed three shots alreafy at the bar, my Wife, being one who neither consumes nor can tolerate large amounts of alcohol, protested but accepted a single glass. Conversation flowed – work, family, travel – a second jug was ordered and I topped up our glasses – politics, artisinal spirits, art – a third jug and, where I had been pouring half glasses, my Wife filled Her’s all but to the brim – religion, feminism, philosophy – A couple of times I briefly put ny hand on Her knee beneath the table and it seened well received.
Our friend excused himself and went to the Gents.
Me: I’m enjoying being out with my Wife.
Her: I’d rather you were enjoying being out with me.
It wasn’t quite a rebuke,  but perhaps my comment was poorly phrased. I was enjoying being out with my Wife as opposed to someone with whom I share a house, bills and respinsibilities. But maybe that wasn’t obvious and I let it slide. I had no interest in starting a fight.

Our respective carriages threatened to turn to pumpkins and we made for home. Somehow, even before we’d left the restautrant, I knew the journey had potential to be a minefield. I decided not to try to lead any conversation – just let Her lead the conversation.

When we got on the train, the man opposite us filled the carriage with a repetative dmmm dmmm t’ tsh tsh dmmm from his headphones.
Her: Do you think we should play Radio 4 loudly on the train?
Me: Something like The Moral Maze? Or Brahms?
Her: I don’t like Brahms
Me: Ok. Schostakovitch.
More dismisal. Jeez! Did it matter which composer?
I didn’t bite.

A while later …
Her: You know you should trim your beard.
(At dinner I had mentioned the youngest member of the family insisting I shouldn’t cut it this side of Xmas.)
An innocuous assertion on some levels, but I would never preaume to even have an opinion on when my Wife should cut Her hair.
I struggeled not to snipe back at Her.

I took my glasses of and put them in my pocket. (They’re non-prescription readers that I bought when I broke my prescription glasses a few months ago – I keep meaning to get a new pair, but I get by ok with the ones I’ve got and other things have taken priority.)
Her: Are you going to go to the optition any time soon?

That was it.
Enough negativity. Enough criticism. Enough of being told I was getting things wrong. Enough for one night.
I turned away from Her and stayed that way for the rest of the train journey.

As we aproached our station I stood and moved towards the door. She didn’t follow.
To hell with Her!
As the train drew to a halt, She moved to the door, next to me.
I let Her go first, and followed along the platform, half a step behind, like a dutyful canine walking to heel.
Half way home, She said something. I forget what. But it was the match to the touch paper.
We rowed.
In the street.
It wasn’t full-on shouting, but it was undignified, with raised voices and there was more than enough swearing, from both of us, to owe an apology to those in the houses we were stood, toe to toe, in front of at near midnight.

I’m not going to go into detail about the conversation – it would serve little purpose.

When we got home, we paid off the babysitter and I sat down in the kitchen.
She joined me eventually and started the conversation.
Again I can’t remember what was said in much detail, other than that She asked what I wanted to do? The big, What do you want to do then?
I mused that there were three options.
1. Suck it up and get on with it? Stay together for the kids? An unhealthy and destructive option.
2. Divorce? Again, hardly a solution.
3. Go to counselling? Not logistically viable. (When We went through marriage counselling several years ago, She struggled to make the timings fit with work. That would be even harder for Her now.)
4. Sort it out ourselves? It would be a fool who thought that was an easy option, and at best an optimist who thought we were capable.
What did She think?
All that came back was what She didn’t want.
I rephrased the question a coupke of times and each was met with at least a Not in it.
Then She decided talking when drunk wasn’t a good idea. A week ago She’d felt a connection we’d been missing for ages, but now, being pissed, was not the moment to debate our dysfunction.
I suggested it led to moee honesty than usual, but that was rebutted.
Fuck it!
I went to bed.
In the spare room

In the morning, She came in, sat on the edge of the bed, and apologised, including for not wanting to talk. We shoukd talk and, if I wanted to, We could do that today. I had little to say. She’d give me time on my own.
When I was left in tbe house alone, I tidied up the junk in the spare room, and moved my clothes and a few necessary items (my work bag, a box of tissues and a bin, a clock-radio) out of Our bedroom.
Then, leaving a note on the hall floor, I went out for breakfast before the rest of the family returned.

12 Responses to “I’ve moved out”

  1. Wishing you only the very best.

  2. Wishing all of you that this leads to a healthy and satisfying solution for all of you.

    • We may be too stubborn for make-or-break but thanks for your relentless support.

    • I would also advise, depending on how things evolve, to make copies of all important documents. Bank account statements, life insurance, pension funds and… anything you could think of. I know you don’t want to think about it, but it is a good thing to have on hand, just in case. It may be my only way to prove that things have ‘disappeared’ since I moved out.
      Anyways… hugs and positive thoughts for you and your family! XO

    • No need for that.
      But thanks.

  3. Sometimes we need to get to this breaking point in order to move forward. I hope you can figure out what is best for you. Reach out offline if you want to talk through any of it. Xoxo

  4. Sending you love and hugs. This is not an easy place to be and as lost as you’ve been in your marriage believe it or not you can find yourself even more distant from who you are if you don’t take care of yourself. So take care of you….

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