My Husband Isnít Coming Back, Is He?
After Amazing Johnny left, I sent him pictures of Cat #2 every day since he always asked how that cat was doing. He never asked how I was doing. I would ask him when he was coming home. He never knew. I dutifully packed and shipped three huge boxes of things he requested. It soon dawned on me that while I had been sleeping curled up on my side on the edge of the bed for months, I was now sleeping a little more comfortably--on my back with a cat snuggled up on either side of me. Before, my stray cat had refused to sleep on the bed when Amazing Johnny was there, but she would settle down in the corner of the room, watching him. Other than asking me to scan and email paperwork, I didnít often hear from my husband. His paycheck kept coming into the bank account, and I kept paying all the bills as they came in. His mother came over to visit a few times wanting to talk about how strange Amazing Johnny was acting, but I kept myself busy with work and my momís doctor appointments.
I still felt like I was drowning. But I was beginning to see a little clearer. Ten months after I had first reached out to a friend for help and two months after Amazing Johnny left, I reached out to another friend. I called my best friend from college, Ed. Ed was often the only friend I had time to visit when I was home for Christmas, so we had been able to maintain our friendship. Even though Johnny had attended the same college for Edís and my senior year, he hadnít talked to Ed for many years. I didnít tell Ed anything over the phone--I was too ashamed. But I needed to talk to someone I could trust. Ed was working thousands of miles away, so we made plans for him to visit in a few weeks.
In the meantime, my birthday was coming up. I asked Amazing Johnny when he was planning to fly in for my birthday. After all, he had lots of vacation time and he made plenty of money at this point. I could tell he was having a grand old time in DC. He went out often, and he seemed to be treating his friends to dinner a lot. (I was still paying the credit card bill, so I could see that the dinner bills were for more than the cost of one dinner.) So surely he could afford a plane ticket. Instead, Amazing Johnny said he didnít think heíd be flying back the few hundred miles to celebrate my birthday not because he had to work but because he didnít feel like it.
I was still processing that when Ed came to visit. I donít really remember much of this period of time. My spirit was completely broken. I threw myself into my work as a coping mechanism. After that first visit, Ed began commuting from his current work location thousands of miles away every weekend. He would take the red-eye Friday night, land at the airport Saturday morning, drive to my house, and then fly back out Sunday evening. A year later when I asked Ed why he had kept up such a brutal schedule for months, he looked at me slightly confused. Then he said gently ďyou were kind of a mess.Ē