The Between Years

been through that week, the idea of taking it easy sounded perfectly fair. Besides, there was no one in the house to impress except for myself.

    Now, a confession: I do take my time getting ready, so I headed for the bathroom just after 7:00. I showered, dressed in a sweater and blue jeans-nice but casual-brushed my hair and slapped on some makeup. Butterflies filled my stomach, I'll say that much. We hadn't spoken face to face in nearly a week and our last conversation had been filled with rage. After a few days of hostility, Randy suddenly wanted to patch things up, but I didn't know what had changed. Or if Randy's attitude had changed. I'd worried that the whole affair could be bad news and would blow up in my face.

    Then I considered what those few days without Randy had been like. Other than the bad parts, I mean. I realized how much freedom I'd gained by being on my own. I'd never lived alone before and being married to Randy was the only time I'd spent away from my parents, including my university days. It seemed that every adult venture I'd taken had been with Randy and so I didn't know what it was like to be independent.

    And let me tell you, I found a true sense of freedom. I felt like I could be my own person separate from Randy, but the reality of it scared me as much as it exhilarated me. We'd only been married a few years, that much was true, but in that time a person can easily feel died down, like their possibilities have been limited. Anytime I wanted to go somewhere or do something, I ran it by Randy. Not that he required me to do it, but I figured that's what responsible spouses did. But just then, I realized I didn't have to answer to anyone.

    I'm no wild party girl and I never have been, so you can rest assured that I wasn't going bar-hopping or guy-chasing. This sense of freedom hadn't come to me so that I could relive my university days, which had been docile years anyway. This freedom allowed me to have my own identity, separate from Randy. I'd lived in Fort Erie all my married years and had earned no more of an identity than being Randy Fuller's wife. And, of course, the identity I earned after the explosion wasn't so flattering, but I couldn't have foreseen that. Though I loved Randy and our union, I wanted to be my own person too.

    All that and more awaited me if I was willing to blow Randy off, if I could just muster up the courage to take the plunge. But what would that mean? Long-term separation? Divorce? I hadn't thought of our situation in those terms. I didn't want to be so negative either. When we'd married, I really meant for our marriage to last 'till death do us part. And I don't take vows very lightly.

    But there are consequences. If I didn't meet Randy, that would leave him in limbo to wonder what the hell was going on. Maybe he would take a hint, get up and leave, but that apparently wasn't the case. That obviously didn't sound fair to me, but then it wasn't fair that he walked out on me, or that he hung up the phone on me, but we'd always decided to teach our children to be the bigger person. Therefore, I would do no less. I'll gladly admit that I was wrong for snubbing Randy the way I did that night.

    So I threw my purse over my shoulder, slipped my shoes on, and raced to the car-I was already fifteen minutes late. But when I slid the key into the ignition, I just didn't have the gumption to turn it. That would mean backing out our driveway and driving down Garrison road, which was one step closer to resuming a life I wasn't sure I wanted. But I could have wanted it. Indecisiveness had become another issue for me. But that's what I meant when I'd told Randy that the timing just seemed wrong for me. About that part I think I'd been very honest.

    Was that selfish of me? Absolutely it was. And I can say something to risk making myself look bad-or worse as the case may be-because I want this account to be about the truth above all else. No matter how happily you're married, your gut still tells you to look out for yourself no matter what. And when I pulled the key out of the ignition, I was considering what was best for me.

    When I stepped out of the car, I sucked in a deep breath, and didn't have a moment's regret. I wanted to experience freedom so badly that I didn't consider Randy's feelings enough. But he'd trampled over me plenty, regardless of his version of events, so I would say that there's plenty of blame to go around.

    Moreover, I quickly regretted my