Time to let go

I just wasted a weekend. A weekend that I was looking forward to -- because weekends are when my husband is usually all (or mostly) mine -- after his work,housework, kids and family obligations are taken care of. (OK, doesn't sound like much, but it's a lot more than weekdays when he sometimes puts in 12-hour days).

I spoilt it all by asking my husband out to lunch on Friday. He hummed and hawed, saying he might be busy. OK, I said, a compromise --I'll pick you up and we can eat somewhere nearby --it won't take up more time than a normal lunch with your colleagues. Hmmmm, let me see, he said.

At lunchtime he called up and told me one of his usual lunch buddies asked him out for lunch. Don't you have lunch with these people every day anyway? And I thought I had first dibs by asking first thing in the morning? To me, it signalled that he'd rather be with them (whom he saw morning, noon and evenings everyday) than with me. (OK, the thought that the work spouse would be there too was lurking in my mind.)

To him, of course, it indicated that I wanted to control everything he did -- even down to his choice of lunch buddies. And seeing how men usually react to being controlled (i.e., badly) he blew his top. I thought it was pretty unfair because all I thought I was doing was expressing disappointment at his decision. (And surely I could not be blamed for feeling let down?)

Of course the whole weekend was spent cold shouldering each other. Almost every move now is seen through the lens of the "work spouse affair" -- for him : does she want to exert control because she thinks I'd rather be with my work spouse? and for me: does he actually want to be with her?

After nearly half a year of second-guessing motives, ascribing agendas, we're both worn out. Deep down, I know he is trustworthy; I just can't stand (or understand ) him having a close, young female friend. Half a lifetime's worth of shared experiences is too precious to throw away for unsubstantiated suspicions, no matter how much hurt and anger they have engendered. And a promise made in the sight of God cannot be taken lightly.

In the sleepy half-light of this morning's dawn, I woke, tired and regretful for a lost weekend. I felt him remove the pillow that had been our "boundary marker" in bed this whole weekend, and his legs and arms folded over me. I think it's time to let this whole thing go. Time to let go of my hurt and anger, instead of trying to extract my pound of flesh. Yes, I don't understand why he still wants to be friends with her, why he thinks it's perfectly harmless. But I want to trust him and pray that he will retain his moral grounding, instead of waiting for him to fall, just to say "I told you so". And I want to believe him when he says we belong primarily to God and each other, and no one else in between.

1 Peter 4 says that "love covers a multitude of sins". Time to bury this one and move on.