M had a very old friend from high school pass away recently. He lived in Utah and M has not seen him in many years, but they reconnected via other old friends and the magic that is Facebook. Tomorrow is the local memorial service. I feel like M should attend alone, because I did not know this guy or his family. Going alone enusre M gets to enjoy being with local friends and will enjoy seeing other people from that era without having to concern himself with my boredom level or social anxiety. These guys are into cars and airplanes, their wives into wine and food and travel. Multiply the anxiety I feel about the gym by 10 and you will understand why I do not wish to attend.
For the most part, M understands. On the other hand, he likes me to accompany him on these types of excursions because he was alone well into his 30s and feels like many of these folks only remember him as being a lonely bachelor. But last month we passed the 24 years together mark, married for 17 of those years last February. It has obviously been a very long time since he has seen many of these people, and meeting his wife is likely not high on their agendas.
As of this minute he has not actually decided if he is attending or not. I am braced for a trip to Macy’s or a men’s store tonight to acquire another pair of dress pants and dress shirt (he has 2 pairs of dress pants, 3 dress shirts, and all are too big after his recent weight loss) for this event. He has been suffering from stomach issues this week and now allergy-related symptoms, so he may decide against attending. Either way I am prepared for shopping tonight, because that’s just how we roll.
There is no friction between us about my not wanting to go, but things like this bring up interesting dynamics in our relationship. If it was important to him that I go, if he needed me for moral or emotional support, I would do it without resentment or irritation. But he knows how I am and understands that this brand of visiting is always better unencumbered by a wife happily at home working or at the gym working out. I just hope he feels like attending, because the wrath and disappointment he will direct at himself after will be uncomfortable for both of us and likely result in eventual exasperated comments from me on the subject.
Right now he’s in still in bed and feeling like crap, therefore I am in my office with the door closed in order to get some work done. What is it about grown men turning into whiney little boys the minute they feel sick?