Things have been quiet around here. They are quiet because things hit a head last weekend.
I don't know what caused it. I don't know why things escalated. We had been doing so very well lately. But a friend of my husband was planning on stopping by when he ended up in town. It wasn't a huge deal and this friend is a fellow Marine with PTSD, so I know that even though they were friends anyway, it's good for both of them to meet up when they can. Though he'd never admit it, it gives me husband comfort to know that this friend also has PTSD. He is someone my husband admires and respects so I think it's good for him to feel that it's ok that he also suffers from it.
But this friend was supposed to come and go. That turned into ordering pizza when I expressly told my husband we couldn't feed them and his friend brought a friend and then my husband invited more people over and the next thing I know I have a group of guys eating us out of house and home while watching movies and playing video games.
I think it's fair that I was upset. My husband and I had discussed it all and that is not what was supposed to happen. I was frustrated that my husband put me on the spot again. He likes to wait until everyone is listening to ask if it's ok for things to happen. When he does this, he forces me into an unwinnable situation. I'm either the bitch wife who is treating him like I"m his mother and telling him it's time for his friends to leave, or my day gets ruined while he does whatever he wants. Because it's easier not to fight with him in front of his friends, I usually give in. It's a shitty position to put me in.
All of this culminated in me texting him multiple times to say it's time for everyone to leave. It was midnight and I was ready to have my house back. He didn't respond so I finally called his cell.
He came upstairs knowing he was looking for a fight. He came up and asked me what it was I wanted. I told him, he then asked what difference it made to me if his friends stayed or left. He came up knowing that I wanted the house back to myself. He knew why I was upset. But he came up looking for a fight.
This fight turned it suitcases packed. Which turned into an even bigger fight. He recently had told me in a fit of anger that he wanted a divorce. He didn't mean it, but it has meant that suitcases have been in the bedroom for a while now. They had been in the bedroom for a year to be honest. We've had suitcases sitting out and ready since he started treatment both knowing that it could end up in divorce if he didn't follow through.
Since that night, the night his friends came to hang out, things have been quiet. He has retreated to his video games and me to my shows and books. It seems to be a mutual silence. We are not refusing to spend time together, but I think we both need the quiet right now.
The quiet, for the first time in a long time, has felt good. It is not the cold shoulder. It is restful. It is recouperating from what has felt like a year that lasted an eternity.
Sometimes, silence is good in this life.