It started with just another one of those little situations where I felt I was being told I was wrong.
Thankfully I was on my way out for an evening’s sports training session. But it got under my skin. And it festered.
Our paths didn’t cross again that night.

When I woke up in the morning it was still festering.
Downstairs, She asked what was up.
I shrugged.
She asked if my solemnity was because of the previous evening’s conversation.
I confirmed that, and observed that it was just another example of how I’m always wrong.
She refuted that vehemently. She was the innocent party. It was entirely down to my perception.
I accused Her of gaslighting. (Something I had only really heard of for the first time a few days previously, when reading something online.)
Inevitably that was a scurrilous accusation.
Hackles were raised all round.

[Ed: Of course you will know, Enlightened Reader, that by the very definition of gaslighting, the perpetrator will be incredulous with denial, and it’s all in the victim’s mind, and the victim will invariably question their own perception of the matter. You will also be fully aware of the Victim Complex, and the possible implications with respect to both AM and His Wife.]

I pointed out the obvious – that the only way for Our relationship to survive is if We both go back to counselling together … and that We both engaged with the process. Properly!
For once, We were in agreement. With Her addition that We should both see counsellors separately.
I reminded Her that I was doing precisely that.
Apparently She is still trying to find someone to talk to. Presumably a counsellor that can fit in with Her diary.
(I dont deny that that may be a challenge, but considering the time it has taken, it’s increasingly difficult to perceive it as a high priority for Her.)
I left the house to do the morning school run.

I had an errand to run, but as She was working from home, I took a very scenic route home. By the time I’d returned, I had cancelled two obligations, rearanged a tbird, and had potentially arranged a bed for the night. I also had a half hour counselling session booked. And I had resolved to run away.
On returning home, the surface anger had dissipated. There was calm. An apology or two. On both sides.
On announcing my imminent departure, there was apparent concern, but no attempt to stop me.
I went to my room to pack.

My Wife’s footsteps creaked on the stairs, and She came into my room. There were accepting and apologetic words … but even then We erred towards low level disagreement, so I curtailed the conversation.

Having packed my bag, I went to leave, collecting my passport from what used to be My bedside chest in what is now Her bedroom.

As I left the house, with no significant input from Me, another apology from Her, for Her unspecified actions that had led to this, an acknowledgement that She has not given Me the support She should have, and an acknowledgement that there is a lot of work to do to save Our marriage.

And I left.
Destination largely unknown.
Return date unknown.

8 Responses to “Gone”

  1. Please be safe and take care of yourself. 💋

  2. corsetandstockings Says:

    Can’t help feeling this is leading to a major ‘event’
    Chin up AM, something has to change🤔 and it will be for the better

  3. 🖤 sending good wishes

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