At what point does a relationship get so close to death that you just look at it as you would a very old, very sick relative and just wait for it to exhale for the last time?
I feel like I've been on life support for the last couple years with an occasional reflexive finger twitch that gives me a momentary glimmer of hope. But then the doctor comes in and says 'It's just nerves firing in the brain, stored electrical energy. It can't hear you. It doesn't know you're in the room.' and my hope fades again.
My husband said tonight he was going to bed and I stopped him in the kitchen and put my arms around him to hug him. He put his arms around me but there was no reciprocation in the gesture, just nerves firing in the brain, stored electrical energy. I don't think he ever downloaded that ebook about keeping a marriage alive after the birth of a child and that was nearly 3 weeks ago that I told him about it and asked him to download and read it. I don't want to ask him about it because I want to see if it means enough to him to remember to do it himself.
He's resorted to either completely tuning me out or not bothering to pay enough attention to me when I talk so that when I bring things up later, he's completely and totally unaware of the conversation and claims to have no memory of it at all. We had to make plans for what we were doing for Christmas and since I have to work Christmas day, wrangling times was a bit tricky. *HE* said that once I finalized things with his sister, *HE* would call his mom to let her know. I asked him today (yesterday, the 23rd) if he'd called her and he said no, he was unaware that he was going to do that, or that he was supposed to do it.
Rather than fighting with him about it, I called her myself. I mistakenly dialed her cell phone so I had to speak rather loudly in order for her to hear me and he overheard the conversation. When I hung up the phone he said, 'So, 11:00?' I said 'Yes, that's what I ....please don't tell me you don't remember that either.' He said he did not and blamed the fact that he'd been sick for the last couple of days and it had "wiped out" his memory. I reminded him that this was decided before he got sick and was summarily dismissed with the usual eye-roll in response.
Forget the fact that we had a 15 minute conversation about it when the decision was made because of my daughter's nap schedule and how it impacts the time that we are going to have to do things on Christmas day.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm sitting unnoticed in a room, watching machines blip and bleep away the electrical impulses firing off in the brain. I'm tired of wondering when it's going to be ok to decide to turn off the machines, see if there's any life left and if there isn't, just let it die peacefully. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one who cares enough to keep the machines going because of that faint glimmer of hope I have every time a finger twitches.