Those things that transpire...

There's a growing stack of books on his nightstand, gathering dust at various rates.  I've paged through all of them these past few weeks. I guess I expected them to give me insight as to what he would glean from them, and what I could learn for myself. I read and attempted to absorb while he watched TV in the other room.   And I tried to ignore this undercurrent of frustration that I am exhausted and yet, still trying to gather a sense of awareness about this relationship. He was watching a rerun MythBusters.

But last night he came to bed.  And he picked up the dusty copy of Love Busters.

It was the same scene as a week or two ago.  I stared at the book selection in his hands.  I must've had that tell-tale expression.  He could feel my contemplative gaze.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

I could feel the emotions, but there were no meaningful words to express.   There's an ever-present lump in my throat.

All I can think to say is, "I know you bought these books for you to sort through, but what should I be working on?"

Just like in the past, he tells me, "Nothing. No, you are doing what you can."

He says that I'm not asking for anything unreasonable and he goes on about how he's been an ass to me.  He's been taking his stress from work out on me and the children.  He's decided to be nicer.  He's making a concerted effort to be appreciative of the things that matter rather than harping on all the little things. He's got plans for change.

I watched his face; his eyes were bright and expressive.  I listened to his words.  I heard the cadence in voice and the upbeat tone as he shared in great detail all of his great revelations. All of the things he'd come to realize when I said to myself, fuck it  and explored another part of town.  It took great measures to have him come to his senses on his behavior, and what may have caused my own disenchantment.

So I watched and listened, but I couldn't help but think I was observing a cars salesman when he's sure he's lost the sale and the customers are on their way out the door.  It's the last big push to convince them, convince me, to stay awhile.  Maybe try another model.  Maybe sit and drink their coffee and maybe see if there's something in this deal he's cooked up for them.  The offer is on the table, but I'm not sure it's the deal I'm looking for.