My wife left on a road trip with a friend of hers today.  Her friend Rose was laid off about 1 1/2 weeks ago, but was allowed to keep her company car for two weeks to obtain alternative transportation.  Instead, she decided to put as many miles on it as possible.  She’s been driving all over the country.  She picked up my wife at around 8am, and they are going to visit a friend of theirs in Colorado who recently had a baby.

Rose showed up at 7:35.  I was up and in my pyjamas.  My son was ready for school.  I fixed some coffee and spoke to Rose for a bit.  My wife got home from work at 7:47, and said she wanted to rinse off the funk of a 12 hour hospital shift before they left.  I had Gavin get his shoes on so I could take him to school.  When we got to the garage, I saw that Rose had parked behind me, so I had to take my wife’s car.  I placed my keys on the counter, as I always do when taking my wife’s car (so there’s always a vehicle available for those left behind).  As I pulled out of the garage, I noticed that my wife had taken her garage door opener with her, so she would be able to get in the house upon her return Wednesday night.  This meant I had to leave the garage door open.  No problem, as I would only be gone just a brief handful of minutes.  Our son’s school was a mere 1 1/2 miles down the street, and the whole trip routinely takes about seven minutes.

At 8:01am I returned home.  Rose’s car was gone, the garage door was shut, and I was completely locked out of the house.  It was only a run to drop off Gavin at school, so I had only taken my wallet.  No phone.

I went into the back yard to get the emergency key, only to find it had never been replaced from the last time my wife had to use it because she had lost her keys.  Not wanting to sit around in the rain waiting for my daughter to get home at 2:50, I went to a nearby Starbucks and borrowed their phone to call my wife.  It rang six times and went to voice mail.  I left a message:  "I left the garage door open because you took the control with you, so now I’m locked out without my phone or keys.  Judging by the rings you have the volume off, so I doubt you will get this message in any sort of reasonable time for you to come back and let me in.  I sure would like to let the kids back in the house at some point today."

Then I drove to my daughter’s school, in my pyjamas, and had her paged to the office.  I relieved her of her house key and drove home.  When I got there the garage door was partially open, about to my waist, but there was no other sign of my wife or Rose.  I wasn’t about to crawl into my own home in the rain, so I used my daughter’s key and walked through the front door.

There were two missed calls and a voice mail on my phone.  I will now provide for you the extent of my communication with my wife for the day.

Her (as almost inflectionless voice mail): "Um, when you get this, I got your message pretty quick, we’d stopped and got some gas.  Anyways, um.  So, it absolutely never occured to me that you did not have a key to the house, because in all the years I’ve known you I’ve never known you to go out and get the mail without a key to the house, so.  I thought I left the garage door open.  Um, you know, I haven’t had a lot of sleep so I’m a little crazy, but anyways.  Sorry about that.  We went and looked around Starbucks and McDonald’s and Sonic and called.  Anyway we couldn’t find you, so.  Garage is open.  I hope nobody else goes in.  Um, call me if we get robbed blind.  And other than that, I’m sorry.  Just, it never, ever, ever would have occurred to me that you didn’t have a key to the house.  Okay.  Bye."

Me (via text message): "Didn’t think you would get my message for a few hours, so I went and got Alia’s key.  Rose was behind me, so I had to take your car.  I never take both sets of keys so there is always a vehicle available for whomever is home.  My keys were on the counter in front of the fridge, right next to Rose’s coffee mug.  I know you don’t love me anymore, and I’m not surprised you didn’t want to say good bye to me, but it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t wait 30 seconds for me to get back.  I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip."

Her (via text sent simultaneously with mine): "Did you get in ok?  Again sorry."

Her (text responding to my text): "Ok.  I was just thinking that i was late.  I did c ur key but thot it was just the truk key. Im sorry. Hope u have a good week."

At this point there is a gap in communication of about 10 hours.  During that time I had an emotional, tear and snot filled breakdown, took a xanax given to me by a friend, and had a four hour nap.  I would also like to mention that I have severe issues regarding house keys and being locked out of the house.  My sister used to lock me out when I was young, and as my wife mentioned, I really don’t check the mailbox without making sure I have my keys.  I also don’t take ALL the keys when I’m in someone else’s vehicle.  The difference is that my house key and truck key are on the same ring, while my wife keeps hers separate.

Her (text many hours later): "We’re here."

Me (in response): "Thank you for keeping me informed."

Her (in response):  "Having a nice time?"

Me (still texting): "Trying to not let my mood effect the children."

Her (almost immediately):  "Still mad @ me?"

Me (after a few minutes):  "Sorry, I’m not feeling very talkative.  Enjoy your trip."

Her (about a minute later): "K"

Those are direct transcripts of the text messages.  Yes, I use correct spelling and grammar in text messages.  It takes more time, but there are standards to maintain.

Some of you may point out the repeated "Sorry"s from her.  Others may notice the playfulness of "Still mad @ me?"  In return, I will point out the lack of any refutation of where I said, "I know you don’t love me anymore."


I still love her tremendously, and she is still far and away the most important thing to me in my life.  Unfortunately, I am floundering and lost.

I am going to make a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.  I want to increase my medication, and perhaps get some xanax of my own.


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