The Long Haul

Yeah? Well let me tell you something- when I said I was going to be home in half an hour, that means half an hour, not two hours or three or next week. I keep my promises when it comes to timelines. How can you not get it together to be on time??? Cathy was fuming, bits of spittle forming in the corners of her mouth, threatening to run away down her chin. George always found it incredibly feral, like a wild cat ready to tear out the liver of some poor wounded bird. But he knew better than to say anything in these moments. Oh no, he would just bow his head conjuring his best attitude of contrition and remorse, then nod knowingly, all the while reminding himself not to zone out because inevitably Cathy will at some point in the very near future reinstigate this argument as George will somehow through no fault of his own manage to yet again disappoint her. It was a fairly reliable pattern. Perhaps not the healthiest but at their age, they knew they were stuck. So they played it out, again and again, trying their best in their own ways to keep it civil and not ring the bell that could not be unrung for the reality of it was neither of them could bear the thought of being alone, not at this stage of the game. So they kept on keeping on, through hell and high water, and various accounts of passive aggressive communication and shifting indifference. Was there even any love left between them? George didn't want to ask that question for fear of the answer so rather than face the reality he pretended that he didn't need to know. Just keep on keeping on.