It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

19 09 2012

2010 should have been a fabulous year.  Mort had changed his job to work with a smaller boutique firm with colleagues from his earlier days that he admired and respected.  We had two happy, healthy, vibrant kids, an awesome group of friends and were planning a big house move in the August of that year that we were all excited about…it should have been the best of times…but it was the start of the worst of times.

He started to become disconnected and disengaged, with me, the girls, life in general.  Sometimes I would address it and sometimes I just couldn’t be bothered as I didn’t care to be labelled with ‘nagger’ again.  My focus became to keep lightness in the house for the girls, so while I was grinding my teeth and yelling profanities in my head at Mort, I had a happy face and kept routine and laughter in the house.

His appearance also had become slovenly, he was stacking on the weight, and his skin was flared up most of the time. He looked like crap.  This was the person who was sporty, attractive and vibrant 10 years prior.  It was a cause and effect issue.  It wasn’t the weight as such that bothered me (totally willing to admit that I was toting around more than a few extra indulgences on my frame), it was the attitude behind it – complete apathy.  In the early days we would   fall asleep holding hands……and now I found my lip in a repulsed snarl just looking at him.

All marriages go through their rough patches, and I had hope that whatever funk he was going through he would come out of. I started to express my frustration and disappointment with his lazy attitude and disheveled appearance to external sources, which for me to say it out loud, beyond our walls, made it real.

I was hoping that the house move, something that we were all excited about would smack some life back into him…instead it was his complete undoing.

There is at least a discarded book beside this guy, it would have been an ESPN magazine in Mort’s case.

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