Update

So much has happened over the past few months that I find myself a little bewildered. I've tried to sit down and blog, but it's hard to communicate what I don't fully understand myself. The short story is that T has convinced me to try and reconcile and has moved back in.

The longer story is that I'm not sure how I feel about that.

The funny thing is that it's not really about him. He's going to individual counseling (for the first time), working with a life coach on a daily basis (for the first time), and *gasp* taken responsibility for a lot of issues that he always blamed on others (for the first time). He's been able to admit he's depressed, which he's been in denial about for years. He recognizes times he's been selfish, and that he has a problem with crossing the line when it comes to women. He sees and acknowledges his short-comings, and he's opening up and actually talking/sharing about his insecurities/feelings. He's changed in so many ways, all for the better.

The cynic in me isn't sure it will last, and it's hard to let down the walls that I've built up. I was at the point where I was able to cut the cord and walk away without looking back, and I'm not sure I want to retreat from that spot. But he's saying - and more importantly doing- all the right words and actions, even when we had a big blow up fight. He said he realized that we (the boys and I) are the most important things in the world to him and he needed to put us first, no matter what. And he has been. He blew off several work-related events, including conference sessions, when issues popped up. For so many years, work has been his number one priority, and it's a little disconcerting to see him willing to ignore it because his family needs him.

So the problem isn't really him.

Instead, I think the problem lies with me. I feel like I failed myself. I was ready to cut the cord. For so many years, I've had my hands on a dull knife, slowly sawing the rope that was our marriage apart. Strand by strand, I watched it unravel, threatening to saw faster at times, other times trying to glue the loose strands back together depending on how things were going. But I'd finally had enough. I hacked the rope until there was just a few strands left and it felt good. I wasn't afraid anymore. I was ready to move on, ready to embrace *me*, the vibrant woman I thought I lost long ago when being a mom and wife subsumed my life. I was confident and strong- I would get through this and survive for the better.

And I didn't go through with it.

Things are going great and I know that reuniting has been good for the kids and us as a family, but sometimes when I look into the mirror I see the vivacious woman with her cfm boots and sparkling smile that I used to be glaring at me. And I don't want to lose her again. The problem is, she believes in consequences. Motivation doesn't matter, actions do. T chose to lie and leave- there should be a consequnce for that. Letting him come home is almost a slap in the face.

So we'll see how things go; nothing is set in stone and he knows he has a lot of work in front of him to earn back my trust. In the meantime, I'm just taking each day as it comes, focusing on the moment.

Waiting to see what happens.