My Marriage

Nov 29, 2007

“No, he can’t come here, I am busy, no time to take care of him, it’s your job” with that I was stunned with her remark concerning the welfare of her brother. I could just imagine the kind of home he grew up in. I was attempting to reason with what I just heard. At that moment, I started to analyze, what is my relationship with my husband. For the first time, after all the years of marriage, an urge to understand that I am in a bipolar marriage.


I had first met Robert more than ten years ago and I can still remember it as if it were last week. I had just finished that monotonous thing of applying for unemployment benefits. A thing that I rarely do or want to do. Because of the recession in the local economy, I had no choice. I stood up from my seat, went over to the newspaper rack and peaked to read the headlines The articles that were repeated on yesterdays TV news. How boring. “Do you want your seat back,” he said with a smile. “No thanks, I finished smoking my cigarette,” I replied. He was nice, energetic, intelligent and sober. We sat at the corner bus stop waiting for our bus number 4 and passing the time away by having some small talk.

Up coming around the corner, I could see bus number 4 approaching toward our bus stop. We all stood up in line. First, the handicap, secondly, the seniors, and then the able bodied passengers. By the time we could get ourselves into the bus, the seats were all filled but for a few. There were no seats available where the both of us could sit and talk. I sat down, and he immediately found a seat right in front of me. We exchanged some words, and sooner than I expected, I had pulled the stop buzzer. I didn’t want to end our conversation because it has been quite awhile since I had the opportunity to
speak with someone with the same intelligence and vigor like mine. I quickly gave him my telephone number so that we could be telephone friends only. But little did I know that my bus stop would be his bus stop. However, not realizing that my friendly offer will become the roller coater ride of our amusement park.

I knew very little about his profile. However, knowing that we could just become phone friends and nothing more, the thought of knowing anything about him would not be in my social agenda. Robert and I shared our experiences in life, and talked about anything that would enter our thoughts just so that we both could just remain on the line and to hear each others’ voice. He was self-employed and I worked for a rental car agency. He was a restoration carpenter and I was a transporter driver. I guess I became much more interested in his work knowing that I too was the daughter of a carpenter and anything wooden became a high interest to me.

I worked every chance I could, weekends, holidays, and putting hours into my paycheck so that I could be financially stable to take care of my then 15 year old son. I already had been divorced from his father for at least 9 years but dated once every year. I was in no mood for a social life. Our daily routine of telephone tête-à-tête was a computerized phone chat room.

We talked for hours whenever we both had the free time and soon found myself engaging in arguments with my teenage son concerning the usage of the phone. He never got too much time to use the telephone. Since I was the mother, I had the say so. Our dialogue engaged in topics such as politics, hobbies, and mostly art. But by his request, we did not talk about religion. Robert was an atheist and I am a Buddhist. We were good company for each other, as long as we could just be phone friends and nothing more.


There were no discussion nor hint of dating. And incredibly, we did not even gain any interest as to know where each other lived. It remained as phone friends for six months without requesting a personal meeting. Then things started to change and the time to meet soon became a factor. That if my bus stop is in front of my house, and his bus stop is in front of my house, then he should be living within my residential area. What a fool I felt like when he told me he lived in the back lane next to my apartment complex. So we set a date and place to meet. A block behind where I live, Roberts’ apartment. So the evening to meet was exciting because I scarcely remember his looks. My son, also interested in meeting this person that invaded his telephone time, walked as rapidity as I did. But his impression of Robert not being mentally stable proved right. And as an adult, I eventually humbly admitted that fact to myself and we did eventually marry.