The Attempt

In a far away voice I hear "Hey, hey..."

Half awake I see my spouse standing at the top of the staircase.

"I'm going to a basketball game tonight and will be home late," he says.

Trying to focus, I do not understand. Surely, I am not hearing correctly. This is supposed to be my last night at home before our allegedly temporary separation when I move from the comforts of my home into the crummy apartment without carpeting. I thought we would have dinner and watch the movie I rented just for him so, in my genius, I just respond "What?" Surely I am hearing incorrectly...

"I'm going to work a basketball game tonight and will be home late," he says again. Then he is off and I am left alone.

Hearing the door shut I begin to cry hysterically. Another failed communication. All the scabs are gone again and I am bleeding profusely. Not sure exactly what has happened, the howling of everything lost begins to escape from my throat and I continue to cry like a 2-year-old.

Maybe I should just leave now. If I can pull myself together, I should just gather the last of my belongings together and go. It might be easier than dealing with the miserable anticipation.

Not quite an hour later, I begin to think that I must have misunderstood so I phone him. "Are you going to be home for dinner?"

"No, I will be home late. " he responds and I cry harder.

I try to tell him that I am going to go ahead and leave but the sobs interfere and he cannot understand me so I just leave it at that and hang up.

I begin to throw my stuff together and pitch it into the car. Entertained and curious, the cats watch my latest activity and I try not to look at them very much knowing that I will die if I do. Milo the cat and I had some good cuddles today during my nap and...oh well...

At the apartment, I try to make myself eat something. I brought one fork, one spoon, and a knife as utensils so I guess I'll be doing dishes. Thirsty, I try to open a bottle of vitamin water but do not have the muscle for it so I focus on putting away my things for a while before I sit.

I know he is going to expect me to be there when he gets home tonight and the thought of him finding the feeble note I left eats at me. I know I am not thinking clearly but I do not want him to come home to an empty house with a note when he is not expecting it so I hook up my laptop, watch some Napoleon, pace, and cry.

I begin to phone him at home every five minutes but he does not answer. I worry. I wonder what the cats are doing and think how they have no idea what is happening. Milo is probably waiting in bed for me as usual. Unsuccessfully, I phone again.

Then the idea hits me: it is possible for me to hurry back home, remove the note, he will not have to face the empty house for tonight, and I will have another night in my bed with the cats.

Praying, I drive like a crazed bat and arrive at home to find everything as I had left it. I rip the note off the tv and check the answering machine to hear that he will is going out with some friends and will be home even later. I sigh relief and crawl into bed where Milo is waiting.