I haven't worked since May 13th. I applied for one job and was secretly glad when I didn't get it. I have taken the summer for me. I may take longer. My husband says he is happy to support me while I heal but his body language betrays him.
I used to love him. I used to adore him. I used to lie to myself about him. I used to put up with disrespect and cheating in order to make him stay. This recovery has been all about him. It's truly remarkable how he has changed. Let me say that I am not sure he's changed or simply learned to act differently to cover his actions. At this stage, nine months after I discovered the depths of his sexual exploits, I still don't trust him. And I don't love him anymore. At least not in the way I used to. I am not sure life with him without that kind of love is worth it.
I think I will leave my husband.
Last February, when the pain was still red hot, our dog went blind. The specialist called it SARDS. Sudden Acquired Retinal Degeneration Syndrome. There is no cause. It is linked to no illness. He just went blind. Here we were. Two very broken beings. One who couldn't see and one who wouldn't see. We spent the summer getting to know the new beings we had become. We walked every day. We practiced navigating the yard. I learned to be his eyes and he learned to rely on me. He inspired me.
We healed together a little bit at a time and then...on Labor Day after a normal morning of walks and breakfast he became very ill. He shook and paced and drooled. I took him to the emergency vet. He seemed to get better. I brought him home. Late that night be become much worse. Much worse. He went back the emergency vet. They made an appointment for a neurologist and the next day we took him. The vet said he thought it was a kind of meningitis dogs get and he had treated dogs who were worse off. My hopes rose. There was a 75% chance to save him. That afternoon the vet told us that while intubating him for an MRI they discovered he had blood in his lungs. Severe pneumonia. His chances dropped to 25%. We tearfully opted to have him humanely euthanized while still under anesthetic. We didn't even get a last hug.
Now no more walks. No more watching to ensure he doesn't run into the bench or the table. No more training on "stop" and "walk" and "slow." No more big, warm hugs, no more stares from those sightless eyes, no more scouring the net for articles about living with a blind dog. I have to heal alone. He left me to heal alone. And I can't do it.
I hate myself more every day. I hate my aging face. I hate my sagging body. I hate that I adored a man for 20 years who didn't give a shit about me. I hate that I cannot trust him. I hate that at some point he's going to want a normal life and I can't give that. I hate that my past was lie. I hate it when he's happy because it might mean he's met someone. I resent it when he's happy because I can't be. I hate it that he just changed, just like that. I hate it that I can't change. I hate so many things while acting as if I'm happy.
I think I'm going to leave my husband. I can't see a life ahead of us that gives me anything I need.
The reason for the sadness of this modern age and the men who live in it is that it looks for the truth in everything and finds it.
Edmond De Goncourt
