I read. I ask. I think to this nerd at heart, it makes me feel better informed. When I went through all the infertility nonsense, I think I read any book I could find on the topic. I amassed a collection and read whatever applied to my set of circumstances. I joined support groups and advocated, eventually becoming so passionate about the subject that it took my ass to congress. I was grateful to have had access to medical journals. I probed every connection I had to find new oncologists, better treatment. I’ve done this with any big thing I had to conquer, with any fascination I’ve had.
Makes perfect sense that my marriage would be no different. I’ve devoured books on the subject. Originally perusing through how to improve and working my way into the books meant to help you decide if divorce is the better option. But, it dawns on me, that not many marriages are like mine. Not that I’m special, but often the case studies just don’t reflect enough of my situation and I become frustrated.
I’ve been told by more than one helpful reader lately that I’m seeking permission to go. I think that’s very accurate. I listen to my instincts, but they seem clouded, so I read. Expecting to find the answer there that I’m not getting from my husband, I keep waiting. But after searching, I discover something. When I think about what I really want – I want to have my cake and eat it too. One of the more annoying cliches – here it fits.
(Ducking from whatever might be thrown my way)
If having an affair can make someone happier at home, should they do it? Probably not. They should of course explore options, etc. I know I’m not trapped by anything but my own volition, but I feel sometimes as if I must stay.
Just think though, that through all carefulness, you can fly below the radar. You can avoid emotional entanglements. My husband is not the type to grant me an open marriage. In the conversations we’ve had, I’m told that if sex is that important to me, I should leave, since I won’t get it here. Essentially, in saying “sex or me” he’s made the ultimate ultimatum. But could we manage a don’t ask, don’t tell existence?
Until we moved here, he never asked me where I was. Never felt the need to question who I was with or what I was doing. I wonder if we could get there again. Could the pleasure and the knowledge of having sex accessible make this marriage good enough for now?
Could sneaking out for cake sustain me?