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The Long, Lost Weekend
I hope most of you deduced that Friday was our wedding anniversary.
A week or so ago, I asked Donna if she wanted me to try to score some free tickets to a show at the theater where I used to perform. The same theater I'll be performing in again very soon. Little did you know that I'm a former C-list local celebrity. On the charts I fell somewhere between drive-time traffic reporter and back-of-the-phone-book attorney. I'm a powerful and important man. People know me.
"Sure. Get four and we'll double-date with the Bradfords."
So that's what I did. I wielded my far-reaching influence (meaning I called the box office manager and begged) and had now made the theater plans leaving the dinner plans on her plate. The night was set. A good time was to be had by all.
Or so I thought.
The evening started with flowers from me and Donna's famous chocolate-covered strawberries from her. And after a brief mix-up with the dinner plans, which basically came down to someone or another thinking Rumbi Grill was something other than a strip-mall fast-food joint, we ended up at a much nicer place with much more expensive and buttery food. No big deal, we had plenty of time before the performance and I like a good date adventure as much as the next guy.
After dinner, as we killed a little time at a nearby book store, I could see that Donna was starting to show a few of her subtle outward signs of anxiety. She walked with her arms crossed. She clenched her jaw. She hardly spoke. She became difficult to engage in conversation.
I asked her about it but she shrugged it off. I asked again. Same answer. I knew something was bothering her but I wasn't going to bug her about it if she wasn't willing to spill the beans. I drove us to the theater and cranked up the new CD I had picked up at the book store.
The show was fantastic. Highlighted by a couple of inside jokes thrown in by friends in the cast simply for my benefit. I was getting pretty amped-up about the idea of being back on stage having the kind of fun they were all clearly having. Besides, it was a really fun show. A felt the night was going pretty well.
Until I brought Donna backstage to cavort with the cast. She was clearly not happy. And by not happy I mean, she was really ready to leave. She huddled by the stage door, well away from the conversation. Being there was really bothering her.
For me, that theater represents some very good times. Sure, there was a lot of personal crap I'd rather not re-live but really, it's such a high for me that I couldn't wipe the grin off my face just from being there.
But not Donna. She didn't say a word and as soon as we left she was visibly relieved. But not completely. On the drive home, I asked her if she was feeling alright.
She wasn't. Taking her there on a special night was a mistake and I was stupid for making it. Any hope I had of being intimate was clearly long gone. A situation that I have yet to figure out how to handle. I clammed up. She clammed up.
The next morning, Donna was up early for a trip to Lagoon Amusement Park with our older girls. When she awoke, I stirred and she made an attempt at getting physical which I couldn't muster the mood for. The evening before had left me feeling soured on intimacy until the problem had been talked through. I know... I'm not the woman here, I shouldn't be acting like it but that's how I felt. I had the rest of day with the youngest, Beth and though we enjoyed our day together, the gloom of the previous night hung over me like one of those Acme Brand One Ton Anvils the entire time. By the time Donna returned we had traded a few text messages and icy-cold phone calls but there was no resolution to the situation.
Sunday always brings its own challenges to the Dunn household. I enjoy my Sundays these days but there's still a tiny bit of built-in tension lingering. Add this to the mood already plaguing us and I was perfectly set-up for a pretty shitty day. The thirty-minute plumbing fix that turned into nine hours without water, five trips to Lowe's, two to separate Home Depots, one new hole in the basement drywall and $85 in pipe, solder and sillcocks pushed me right over the edge.
I couldn't handle it any more and switched back and forth between all-out moping and self-righteous indignance, Donna made it clear that this was no way to get my feelings heard but by this point, I didn't care. I just wanted to be mad and drink beer. So that's what I did until I fell asleep.
I am SO bad at all this. Maybe a few more hours at hardware stores and working on the pipes will make me feel better. As if.
Filed under - Marriage | Misc
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Hi, I discovered your blog 5 weeks ago. I've been stuck sitting at this computer a lot since I broke my foot and sprained my ankle. I admire that the 2 of you are really trying hard to save a marriage and family that has a major rift due to differences in religion. My own family experienced that kind of rift when some family members converted to Mormonism, causing them to alienate the rest of us that didn't. Long story. Anyway, I was wondering what exactly was the problem with going to the theater? Donna had dinner with you to celebrate the anniversary. The production was fun to watch. You weren't excluding her from the post show activities by taking her backstage with you to meet your theater friends. Does she have a problem that you might want to do theater again? In our family it is reversed, I do community theater and my husband doesn't, he's not interested. Then he has some interests, like martial arts, that I could care less about myself. We have agreed that these 2 worlds are going to be separate and there is no problem. Both of our kids did martial arts and one did theater also. Do you think that if one of your daughters got interested in doing theater that would put it in a more positive light for your wife? Maybe you could get in a production that you and your daughter could get involved in, like one of those musicals that use lots of kids. If that still worries Donna, have her working backstage doing props. I can understand how you might be interested in getting back into theater. It's hard to get the "theater bug" out of your system, and I don't want to! Good luck to the two of you. Keep enjoying your coffee! I'm enjoying mine. (My Mormon niece told me I'm going to h*ll for drinking coffee, but I've probably done worse things that would get me there!)