My husband and I were recently talking. I decided to admit to him that sometimes I still feel like there was a thin piece of plexiglass between him and me. He was, at first, stunned, and then I think hurt. I’m sure it wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. I wanted to tell him that the thin piece of plexiglass had started out as a much thicker piece of glass, impenetrable. I don’t know why I didn’t exactly say those words. I just said that I was getting better.
The truth is, I don’t know why that thin piece of plexiglass is there. I told my husband it was because I was scared, scared to trust, to feel, to become vulnerable again. I guess that is the truth, but something seems incorrect about that answer. One might assume it’s a trust thing. The irony is that it is not a trust thing. I mean, in reality it was never a trust thing, as he basically told me everything, even when he was with the OW. It’s a hazard of being best friends with someone you love. He didn’t always tell me everything immediately, but eventually. It was the absolute hardest part of the affair for me. Maybe for him too, maybe even for her. We were each other’s confidants. It’s hard to imagine that there is truth in that, but there is absolute truth in that. We were the epitome of the love triangle. And if one side of the triangle is gone, where does that leave the other two sides? I guess that’s where the plexiglass showed up. I guess I’m leaning on that plexiglass. The plexiglass has become my crutch.
He wants to know what he can do to erase the plexiglass. That’s a great question. And that’s what I told him..that’s a great question. The answer is that I don’t know. He has done everything he could possibly do and then some. He is not the problem. The problem is me. And I suppose that problem is insecurity, which I told him. I recall things in my head said between us during those terrible times. He doesn’t remember any of the things we said between us…..I seem to remember everything. It’s a little unfair that men can so easily erase their memories. Why can’t women do that? It also makes it very difficult to talk to someone about things they said 10 years ago, when they can’t remember even a little of those words.
My husband is extremely patient with me, even when he can’t remember something, and even when he can. He doesn’t really deserve plexiglass and I told him that. I asked for more time to resolve that, which he willingly gave. He’s not the problem.
It’s me and the plexiglass.
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