It’s been an ongoing issue.
He goes to school, has 4 hours between the next class, and normally, comes home to hang out for a few hours, after he finishes his homework.
This whole last week, it became the “issue” of our marriage. I wanted him to text me if he was staying, because I kept having anxiety attacks–He was staying after class to do stuff, and not telling me, and then I was wondering what was happening. I was so afraid I’d lose him in a car accident. That was literally the only fear I had. He thought it was stupid-of *course* he’d come back, he’s a competent driver, and furthermore, he shouldn’t have to check in with me constantly.
I couldn’t make him understand. It wasn’t a trust issue–it was a fear issue. I feared losing him, and him telling me what his plans were greatly reduced the rising fear and anxiety I had whenever he was behind schedule.
We talked about it in marriage counseling.
Yesterday, and the night before, he texted me to tell me what was happening. Both times, I buried him in gratitude. He had no idea it meant so much to me.
He left this morning, 7:30.
9:30 rolled around, and he didn’t call. I assumed he was on his way home. The agreement was that he would call if he was staying. Then I would know.
10:30 rolled around, I got mad. Of course. He forgot to tell me he was staying late.
11:30 rolled around. Nothing. I sent him an email, asking if he was okay. Begging and pleading with him to call me…..typing out my prayer that he was okay. I was so afraid. So afraid I’d get another phone call. Another quiet voice telling me they were gone.
12:30 rolled around. His next class had started. I toyed with the idea of calling the college, getting the number of his classroom, and trying to get in touch. But then I worried over it. What if he was there, working hard? What if I came off as a controlling wife? What if he came off as an insensitive husband?
1:30 rolled around. I threw up. I couldn’t keep food down. I wrapped my arms around myself and started to steel myself for making phone calls to the hospitals. 2:30, I thought. If he isn’t home by 2:30, I’ll start calling. I started getting angry. If he’s okay, I thought to myself, I will never forgive him for this. He knew. The fear from losing Jonny. The anxiety issues. The coping issues. He knew better.
2:15 Liam and I both just stared out the window. Big tears rolled down my cheeks, but I kept quiet. God, I thought, please don’t let him die. Please let him be okay. Please give me strength.
2:22 Red Car. His Car. It pulled in. And the dam broke. Every fear, every prayer, the increasingly ludicrous bargains I had going with God dissolved away. And all I could feel was a completely red hot anger. And sweet, sweet relief.
He knew. As soon as he came in, and saw my face, he got defensive. He immediately spilled out an excuse that he had told me yesterday he would be in school all day today. But I would have remembered those things. I drill them into my head. The alternative is unbearable. A day of fear. A day of reliving hell. And he knew too. He looked down in shame.
All I wanted to do was slap him across the face, kiss him, and hold him. Instead, I excused myself, and came into my room, and I sobbed into the pillows.
What could have happened….I flinch whenever I think it. And yet, some small part of me calmly reminds me that I have someone else to live for too. Someone who’s learning to fear the unknown, learning to fear a lack of control. And that little guy shouldn’t need to learn that fear. Not yet. I can’t protect him forever, and I’m certainly going to try and prepare him for the sadder truths in life.
I’m angry at my husband for being insensitive, but I still love him. I’m just….
I guess I had to write this out. Had to tell it to myself on paper. Our marriage? Not perfect. Not at all. But like me, my baby, and my husband, it’s a work in progress. I think he gets it now. He’ll remember his phone. He’ll message or email me in the future if he forgets it.
In the end, that he’s safe is what I care about the most.