Losing the Little Black Dress and Losing Touch
My ex-y was not a tennis player. She was a natural athlete who could’ve played tennis, but it wasn’t her thing. That’s fine.
We used to joke about how she liked tennis most for the cute dresses and skirts. Me too!
There was a moment, several months before she asked for a divorce, when she had agreed to play tennis with me and the kids. I had recently encouraged her to buy a cute black skirt at the pro shop. And I specifically recall following my wife on to the court. I was looking at her nice legs and the sexy black skirt. And thinking, wow, she’s beautiful but not much chance of making love to her any time soon. She was always angry. I don’t know what that does to a woman’s libido, but I sure know what it was doing to my love life.
I remember noticing a woman playing three courts over, through two chainlink fences, and she was more enticing than my beautiful wife, right in front of me. How sad.
I had been testing an assumption I had about how much of the closeness I generated. How I was usually the one who engaged in gregarious touch, whimsical affection, spontaneous complements. When I stopped generating the closeness in our relationship, when I stopped reaching out, there was nothing. And it wasn’t just when she was actually mad at me about something. It was simply a general fact, and maybe one that I had overlooked and compensated for for many years, but she wasn’t that good at closeness.
I’m not sure if she was ever as much into touch as I was. But when I stopped the casual reaching for her, there was nothing. And what an odd moment, following my beautiful wife onto the tennis court, a dream fulfilled, and being more interested in someone 40 yards away.
The Off Parent
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