He started to grow distant. At first i couldn't pinpoint with accuracy as to when i felt the diminishing of candor. On the surface things seemed perfect. We went about our daily routines customarily, partaking of a kiss or a hug at the moments we intersected. But what alerted me to his growing detachment was the absence of any conversation on his part about what he was feeling, something he was habitually, sometimes inveterately, likely to do.
It was ineluctable that i blamed myself. Something i said or did must have irked him. But he may have dissembled, concealing his irritation. I looked back, with assiduous zeal, to the recent past. I excoriated myself, examined my putative misconduct from all possible angles. But the more rigorous my self scrutiny, the more amorphous my misdemeanor. I was dumbfounded as to what may have caused this growing breach.
I tried to broach the subject with him but he was evasive. He, uncharacteristically unforthcoming, refused to open up. My own imputations of self blame he brushed off perfunctorily , saying that it had nothing whatsoever to do with me. But, by now, our growing distance superseded, in my consciousness, my ostensible guiltiness. I was determined to get to the bottom of his disenchantment with daily life and wrest, from this tumultuous phase in our relationship, all the strength and durability that i could.
I did toy with the idea that he might be clinically depressed. We went to a psychiatrist who prescribed anti depressants. Zonked out on prozac he became supine, his lugubriousness redoubled. Where the astringency of impersonality kept him on his toes now even that disinterest metamorphosed into an enervating, bone chilling indifference to any intimation of life. He subsequently gave up prozac.
There came a time, in the near future when he began beating me up. The slightest innocuousness would put him in a terrible, uncontrollable rage. Accustomed to self effacement i tried to understand and forgive than run away. But my sincerest ratiocinations failed to explain the sudden violence. And i did ponder,from time to time, that his true nature was now showing itself, that his earlier seemliness was a masquerade against these primordial, violent impulses.
Eventually i opted out. There was no choice. I felt my own sanity wavering,on the verge of unmitigated collapse . Had i waited for the answers to reveal themselves, a modicum of understanding would have been inveigled. Perhaps i might have forgiven him. And not knowing did cast a crepuscular gloom on a relationship constituted by affability and mutual give and take. But not knowing was a blessing. The truth can sometimes be too terrifying to behold and carrying the primal burdens of another, even the one you love, imperils one's own sense of self. I must crystallize my resolve and not go back again.