You would think after 15 years of marriage, my husband and I would be bonded together like Gorilla Glue. After all, when we barely knew each other we could finish each other's thoughts and sentences. Now with years of history, careers, kids, and a home, we are on the verge of divorce.
What happened? Over time, we both became profoundly tugged in so many diverse directions that our emotional reserves got depleted. When we should have been finding new ways to connect as a couple, the sad truth is that once we fulfilled our daily obligations, we had nothing left for each other.
My husband tells me that he just wants to be understood. Believe me, I want to understand him, but to me, he retreats to a place inside himself where I am not welcome. A male friend of mine calls this place a man cave.
I hate the man cave. From my perspective, it's a solitary place devoid of any emotional connection: a place to avoid conflict, retreat from fear, and buffer oneself from the outside world. It's a place where my husband goes to struggle with his emotions, alone.
Alternatively, I wish we could create an emotional sanctuary together, then travel there as a couple. He resents me for not knowing what is going on inside of him, but it feels impossible to know him when he is physically present but emotionally absent. I am not a mind reader.
My husband will forever own a piece of my heart, even if we divorce. I love him dearly, but my love is not strong enough to break down the walls of his mancave. Of course, the presence of the man cave is not the only reason for our maritial problems, but damnit, I just wish he would let me in.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
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