So, it’s the oddest thing. Since he retired, Gary and I have spent all our evenings together, but during his recent illness, we kept apart. He’s feeling better now, but yet somehow we’re still keeping our distance.
I’d say we only spend every other evening together. it’s very odd. In the past if I went into the bathroom and didn’t return within a minute he’d want to know where I was and what I was doing and if I was coming back. Nowadays, I pick up, go downstairs, and he can occupy himself. Surprisingly, he doesn’t care if I’m coming back.
There’s no active resentment. I guess we figured out that we get along better in smaller doses. Or, more likely, he has a mental quota of how much time we should spend together, and now that I don’t leave the house ever, he fills his quota in the morning and doesn’t need me in the evening.
Strange days, strange days.