A Book Really – Ascent.

I was an asshole.  As my ex-father in law would say, “the deluxe model type.”  That seems like a good way to start a book?

I have been told two times today and on other occasions that I should write a book.   Everybody writes books these day.  This book would be about my story.  Everybody has a story.  Lot’s of people have a story.  They have a story very similar to mine so this will not be a book.  It will not go that far.

See, my wife died a year ago December 6th.  She had been battling cancer for fourteen years.   I really miss her.  At least, I think I do.   I question myself on lots of stuff.  I am constantly suspicious of the way a feel and the way I think.   The reason is, is that for most of my life I was really unaware.   That’s right, unaware.  Simply, unaware.  A better description might be “not self aware.”  So I really have to ask myself, “Do I miss her?” or is it just that I miss drifting off to sleep spooning with a really wonderful woman or do I just miss having sex.  I do not like being alone right now.  So, do I really miss her?

At this point you may be thinking, “Yup, you’re an asshole.”  Well, it is true I do not like being alone.  It is true I would really love to feel the warmth of a woman.  And of course, I want to have sex.  However, I haven’t been able to take the ring off.  I haven’t been able to remove her coat from the coat rack that she put it on.  The last time her coat was off the rack it was in her hands.  Many of the items in the refrigerator (non perishables) are still in the refrigerator.  Essentially the house has not changed at all since the day she died.  So although I would like be in a woman’s loving arms again, if it is not Wendy, then I can’t do it.  As for the sex, because of her illness, we were not able to engage in the activity during our married time together which was three years.  This was primarily due to the medication she was on.   She would get nervous about this and I would say I didn’t marry her to have sex.  I actually didn’t. . .  I may or may not be an asshole but I think I miss her.  To remove her coat from the coat rack would be letting her go.  I am closer these days but not quite there.  It has been thirteen months.

The next question I ask is, “Is this just guilt?”  because really I just want to have sex but I feel too guilty.  “Yup, he really is an asshole.”  I don’t know.   I just don’t know.  I would like to think that because I am asking these questions I really do love my late wife and miss her dearly.  I can say I am brought to tears over her easily.  I hear a song in the grocery store and I start to well up.  Yeah, I know, I am trying to plead my case for not being an asshole.

It’s fine if you think I am an asshole.  I’ll take it.  But finally, I will say that about three weeks before she died I asked her if I was able to do it.  “Do what?” she asked.  I asked her if I was able to make her life better by being in it than not.  She said, “Well of course you have my love.”  I was able to believe her.  I knew our relationship and it seemed believable to me.  Before we even thought of becoming a couple I would hear her say, “If a man can’t make my life better by being in it than I don’t want him in my life.”  She had been married twice before and the stories she told were horrific – especially with her first marriage.   Her second marriage was a nightmare however I could really relate.  I could relate to the guy that made her life a living hell.  I had done it myself with my now ex-wife.  In fact if it was a competition between me and her second husband in the mental anguish department I would win hands down.  Yesssssss!  Imagine a fist pump here.  I am good at something.

So Andy, do you think you are an asshole?

Like I said, I don’t know?

What’s all the questioning for?  and it seems like you are just badgering yourself.

It all goes back to my motives, I guess.  What are my motives?   Why am I doing what I am doing?  It seems to distill out at awareness of my motives.  Once I have awareness then I have a choice.  I have a choice to be honest or lie – to myself.   I actually do not want to lie.  So the questions, “Do I miss her?” and “Am I just doing this out of guilt?” become pretty important to me.  Because the fact of the matter is I really do want to be held in a woman’s arms.  I want to be loved.  I want the pleasures of sex   I want to feel like I matter.  If I don’t ask myself questions like these then I am poised to make someone else’s life along with mine fairly miserable.  It’s worse.  It’s life threatening.  I become a danger to myself and others.

If I simply don’t have awareness then I am flying blind.  In order to achieve “feeling like I matter” I will do things like threaten suicide in order to get someone to make me feel like I matter.  Here, that “someone” is my ex-wife.

It is actually very simple.  We’re not talking rocket surgery here.  The thought process goes something like “I am not feeling like I matter enough to her.  She is spending the day with her friends when she should be home with me.   That’s it!  I am going to have to show her!  or as I liked to say, “I am going to bring her into understandment.”  “Understandment” isn’t even a word.  She will plead with me, beg me, and cry for me not to do it.  Oh it is going to feel so sweet!”

These thoughts are going through my head but they are not high enough in my conscience for me to know it.   All I know is is that “She needs to show me she cares.  So while she is out with her friends, I am going to go into the garage, call her up, and let her listen to me turn the goddamn car on.

This is all I know.   In fact, it’s worse.  I don’t even know that I feel bad!   I don’t know that I feel bad because I have this perception that she does not care about me.  Her not caring about me doesn’t come to mind.  I am just plain pissed.  I am angry and I am going to do something that will be catastrophic to me but more importantly to my kids and my now ex-wife.  This is where my ascent starts.