My curiosity regarding Jon's behavior was dulled by the holidays and parenting. We sailed through Christmas and the hazy post-Christmas week where day and time doesn't seem to exist beyond the sun rising and setting. For New Year's Eve we went to a party put on by Jon's sister. I remember expressing to Jon while there that I felt anxious by the crowd and kids and music and noise, but it didn't stop me from dancing and playing with my own children as we inched towards the New Year. New Year's Day was spent in another sober hangover, with the day ending how most of our days did: Jon and I watching something on TV together before he would excuse himself to go play some video games. But with no upcoming events and commitments to distract me, I finally remembered the question that had been plaguing me most of December: what had Jon been typing on his phone? What conversation did he want to have?
Can you please tell me what you've been writing about on your phone? I had given him time and space, even he couldn't deny that I had been patient and deserved to know what was going on.
The conversation was prefaced much the same as every other time Jon chose to speak: "I'm not a very good communicator." Which is why he had been making notes. Then he began. I'm not happy in our marriage. I don't want to go to church anymore. I feel like we only exist for our kids. I don't want anymore kids. Each point rapidly followed by the next one, hitting me like ocean swells, knocking me back down again before I could catch my breath after the last one. As surprising as each revelation was when shared altogether, I wasn't completely shocked by each individually.
He wasn't happy in our marriage? Honestly, not that big of a surprise. Since going back to school, Jon had befriended a younger, newly-ish married couple who spoke openly about their relationship. Jon often shared surprisingly intimate details about them and it was becoming clear that he was envious. What man wouldn't be jealous of a new, hot sports car when he's stuck with a frumpy, messy minivan?
He didn't want to go to church anymore? Well, not exactly a surprise either. Jon had been inactive for years before deciding to come back to the church, which is when I met him. He had spoken openly that he missed drinking a cold rum and coke, and anytime we spoke about principles of the gospel he always seemed to take the side of arguing against the church. The Elder's Quorum President in our ward even asked me once if Jon considered himself active in the church and I was genuinely stumped as how to answer. Yes? He did? But not enough to sacrifice any meaningful time or energy for it? And then there was that time I found an unopened bottle of Captain Morgan in the top of our closet. If I would have asked a Magic 8 Ball if Jon was slowly going inactive again, the answer would have been, "All signs point to yes."
He felt like we only existed for our kids? Ha! Same here! But isn't that what parenthood is, at least if you take rearing your children seriously? You set aside a great deal of your time, energy, money, and more to ensure your children grow into kind, well-adjusted human beings. Sure there are pockets of me-time or us-time here and there, but overall the biggest focus and priority of our lives at this point is the kids.
He didn't want anymore kids? Okay, I'll admit this one made my blood boil a little bit. Thanks a lot for not saying this BEFORE I got the IUD removed. I wasn't naive or stupid enough to think that now was still a good time to pursue having more children. Obviously the priority of this year needed to be nurturing our relationship. But this one still stung. He knew I desperately wanted more kids. Out of all the things Jon revealed, this one was the kick to the crotch.
It's been exactly one year since this conversation and I can still remember how emotionally charged the room was and yet how empty and gutted I felt. What a way to start a New Year. If I had been searching for a resolution, I suddenly had my answer: In 2023, I will fix my marriage.
That night we slept in different beds. The next day we parented and packed and drove back to Raymond. When we finally had a moment alone while unpacking in our room, my mind was made up. I knew what I needed to do and I was going to give it my all. I turned to Jon and said, "I love you and I love being married to you. Everything is going to be okay."
Be First to Post Comment !
Post a Comment