Today, he’s being nice to me.
He was going to take me to the doctor this morning when I felt awful. (I didn’t go – I went to work instead – and after a few hours, I started feeling better.)
He said he’d pay about two-fifths of the car insurance this time on the car that I bought for my daughter to use. I wrote the check for the other three-fifths this morning.
My windshield wiper blade broke and he actually came down to where I work this afternoon and replaced it for me.
Yes, I like it when he is nice to me.
But it also makes me feel crazy. I feel tense and wonder how long it is going to last and what will come next. I find myself feeling guilty for wanting to leave when he is being nice. And even when he is nice, I still don’t want to live this way, because I know we can’t have conversations that are important to me and because he hasn’t a clue, even after all these years, how to make love with me.
And I’d love to make love.