So last night I got up and went to the kitchen. I'd eaten some veggies for dinner and was craving something sweet and chocolatey to top it off. So I went into the kitchen in search of the big bag of mixed candy my husband bought last time we were at the store. In that bag are these single serving Reeses peanut butter cups which had the most amazing creamy peanut butter center. Not like those ones most places have which are either a little too stiff or dry as sawdust. This was GOOD peanut butter.
But the bag was... gone. I searched in vain for a bit before retreating. "What happened to all the candy?" I asked husband.
"What candy?" he asked. I assume he was trying to sound innocent.
"That big bag of candy you bought last time we went to the store."
"I ate it," he told me.
Disappointment washed over me. And then a bit of shock. That's a LOT of candy. Especially knowing how much OTHER candy he's been eating. And ice cream. And just plain CRAP. He's already informed me that while at work right now his choices are fast food and more fast food. And I sincerely doubt he's eating any of the healthier menu choices.
One of his workout friends came in to the store the other day and asked if husband was still going to gym (during this month+ long class he's taking) and I replied "....no." And he seemed really shocked and said something about telling the sergeant that's supposed to be "helping him." Which suddenly reminded me that husband was telling me that if he doesn't lose weight he may just get kicked out of the military before his enlistment is up.
So last night I sat down and I asked him about all of it. I told him I didn't know what he was keeping for me or why this was all going on but it's got to stop. "Let's keep in mind that although your dad DID have an underlying condition he died of a heart attack pretty young and I don't want that for you." He nodded mutely. "Are you depressed?" He shook his head. "I just worry about you," I told him.
I was quiet for a second and said "you know, this all goes back to that fight we had a month ago. We spend too much time encouraging each other in badness. With the eating and stuff. And I don't want to do that anymore. So I'm telling you."
Finally husband said, "it's just you bring this up on a GOOD day. I went to the gym today, even."
"Yes, but I'm not really convinced that that's something you're going to do continually."
"I know I need to get my head back in the game. I know that. Look, why don't we start going to the dog park?"
"Because the dog park is about the dogs running around. Not us."
"...I sort of run around, too. We can go for walks around the golf course again."
"I'm sorry, but you can't start acting like you're going to DO that when I've been trying to get you to go for walks with me and the dogs for a long time and you refuse. And that's just around the neighborhood."
This is when he started getting really pissed and I could tell he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Which is fine. I said my peace and I'm really not interested in being the harpy. About fifteen minutes later he said he was going to bed, making up excuses so I wouldn't think it was because he was mad. Except he was.
When I went to tuck him in I could still feel the sullen resentment rolling off him, though he tried to hide it. "Are you mad at me?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "Really?" I asked. "No," he replied. But I know he was being honest in the first place.
I wish he'd just BE mad at me. I can handle it. But he doesn't seem to think so. Doesn't want to deal with the fall out. So he hides it until it disappates. I kissed him goodnight and went downstairs.
I was thinking about it this morning and I realized that back when he and I used to walk the dogs together on a regular basis... that 20 minutes or so was very much bonding time for us. And that's gone. These days, I grab my ipod and one of the dogs and go out by myself with my music. And I really like it. I can run or walk and take whatever length of walk I feel like taking without any sense of guilt.
There are just some things I've had to re-learn to do on my own. It used to be if he wouldn't go... I wouldn't go. I became afraid to go for walks by myself in the dark. I was used to having a companion. I've brought back that sense of independence.
I fear that with my father-in-law's death and my painfully obvious feelings for Keith husband is having a hard time coping. Our "serious" conversations are coming faster and more furiously, now, and he's possibly working on going into an insular sort of self destruct mode. And I just can't let him do that without some serious protesting on my part.
Screw the sex life. Just give me back my friend....
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