You Have an Office

It’s downtown. It’s all yours. It’s inside a building with many bathrooms so that you needn’t knock on the door to ours as soon as I’ve sat down and ask “Will you be long?” like somehow it’s your right. (I write that full well knowing that I stood up, zipped up and surrendered the john enough times to pretty much make it you believe it is your right but – honestly – it really fucking isn’t.)

We’re supposed to be separated. Separated with a view to reconciliation still means “separated”. It means you’re not supposed to be around all the time when you are not on duty with the boy. I don’t have an office outside the home but I can assure you that if I did, for this period of “separation” I would use it because it’s the right thing to do. The respectful, honourable thing to do – even if it weren’t comfy or cozy or what I wanted to do.

We’re not supposed to always be around each other.

You’re supposed to use your office.

You’re supposed to give me space.

You’re supposed to be sacrificing things. We both are.

To see what we miss. To see what we learn.

And, frankly, over the last few days, it would seem that nothing at all has changed for you and my life has gotten just a smidge worse.

You still come and go as you please only now you do it with impunity. Now you do it knowing EXACTLY when you are actually responsible for the boy and when you are not. You needn’t offer to help at other times. You pop your head in, make faces at him, play old games with him, make all your jokes and it’s almost like we aren’t separated and you are “just working from home today.” You do this even though I asked you not to. You do this without realizing that all it does is make me want to be with you less. You do all this like you forget we are supposed to be separated and that you have an office.

YOU HAVE AN OFFICE.

And if you’re not going to make my life any better by working from home then I don’t want you at home. I’m sick. The kid is sick. You’re not helping “because it’s not your turn” and you continue to demonstrate no real initiative for being loving and helpful toward me so – honestly – I get it. I do. I always have. You have work to do. So do it.

IN YOUR OFFICE.

If I’m going to wind up doing this gig mostly by myself then I might as well get the practice and I could sure as hell use the space.