February 1992

howcanItellI thought we were going on an exciting adventure. We were invited to do production planning and sequencing presentations at conferences in Queretaro, Mexico and Mexico City, all expenses paid by the client. But on the flight down, Lou was distant. I asked what was wrong, and he said, “Nothing, why?” I said that I’d been feeling that he was far away for a while now. He hadn’t been close or intimate with me lately, and ignoring the chill I felt sitting close on the airplane was unbearable. Then he told me that all he could do was think about another woman just about all the time. And he told me that he really only wanted to be with her, and just wasn’t feeling attracted to me. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to bolt, but was trapped on the airplane stuck by his side for hours. I tried not to cry, but tears came anyway. I wiped them away, and did my best to hide my eyes and my face with my hand so nobody could see. Lou was irritated that people would notice, and asked how he could tell me things if I was going to get upset like that. I asked him if he was trying to tell me that he wanted to leave me. He said that he wasn’t, but he was just being honest about how he felt. I was quiet. He went to sleep. It was a long plane ride for me. I don’t think I have ever been so sad in my life.

He seemed fine through the whole trip. I think I cried myself to sleep every night. We were in Queretaro first, and stayed at this resort called the Hacienda Hotel Jurica. It was really a beautiful remote place with lots of gardens and beautiful buildings and a fine restaurant. Then we went to Mexico City, and stayed at the Century Hotel right in the middle of the city. We had seen a picture of the hotel that deceptively made it appear to be quite nice. The hotel was really tall but really thin. Maybe two rooms deep at the most. The seemingly beautiful pool on the brochure picture was actually on the roof, and only slightly larger than our hot tub. If you were brave enough to venture near the railing, you could see straight down to the street below. If you leaned over at all, a good wind could easily blow you off the roof. The tiny hotel room was bizarre, with rails on the ceiling above the bed, and the bathtub was round and really deep. It was just as well that we weren’t having sex, because the bed was awful. There was a tiny lounge just off the lobby with a band blaring loud, cheesy music. Luckily, we didn’t have to spend much time there, as the conference itself was at the Nikko Hotel, which was very modern and sleek, and in comparison, made our accomodations seem much like the prostitute-ridden Hotel Dixie my parents booked to save money on our family overnight stays in Manhatten.

We’ve had sex since we got back, but I was self-conscious, and nervous with my own husband. He just doesn’t seem to have a clue how it makes me feel to know that he’s obsessed with another woman, and actually told me he didn’t even want to be with me. He now says I should just forget about it all and go back to normal. But I don’t know how to do that. I just feel empty, and like I’m always on the verge of tears. My chest feels heavy, and it’s like my heart literally aches.

I’m glad I have my job at HP, because that keeps me busy, and I have a lot of fun with the people at work. I’ve also been working out at Gold’s gym and started on a program with a trainer to lose body fat. I’m not really losing weight, so much as toning and changing my percentage of lean muscle tissue. Lou goes to the gym all the time, and I haven’t really been diligent about it until now.

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