Water Heater Drama

I never knew a water heater could spark so much drama. Well, mine died a week and a half ago. My mother was visiting, so she volunteered to call a plumber while I was at work (after a very cold shower). The plumber discovered that the water heater had some serious problems, including the possibility that it had become a fire hazard. Basically, it was time for a new water heater.

I have been avoiding talking to Jake, but I felt the need to let him know about the water heater. I consider this house to be HIS house and, thus, HIS water heater and HIS cost to replace it. I thought it was a simple enough message that I could just tell his dad.

I called Big Rev and started to explain the issues that the water heater was having, including black smoke coming out the exhaust pipe. I told him that I had a plumber look at it. He said, "I wish you hadn't called a plumber because I can tell you how to fix it."

"Oh really," I said, "how's that?"

"Well, go down to the basement."

"Uh-huh." I wasn't moving.

"Now climb up on the counter beside the water heater."

"Uh-huh."

"Unplug it from the battery back-up, wait a few seconds, then plug it back in."

"Are you kidding?! I just told you that BLACK SMOKE is coming out the exhaust and you want me to just unplug and replug it?!"

We exchanged a few more angry sentences and then he hung up on me. That did me in. I felt like Big Rev was representative of Jake, which meant that I was alone with the water heater problems. I was ready to move out on the spot! Unfortunately, it just couldn't be done in a day. After a frenzy of stamping my feet and cussing loudly, I ended up crumpled on the floor sobbing with my mom hugging me.

A little while later, Jake called and I answered it. He was calm and - dare I say it - comforting. This was the man I fell in love with. The man who solves my problems. The man who is on my side. He listened to my water heater problems and agreed to buy a new one without my asking. The conversation naturally moved to other things: his court date that I didn't attend, his treatment that he feels is not helping, and our relationship.

He acknowledged that I have a lot of reasons to be mad at him, but he wants to resolve our problems and move forward. I felt like such an ass while he was saying these things. He doesn't know that I'm planning on divorcing him. He's concocting dreams of our future and I'm planning my escape. I tried to gently tell him that I don't know if we'll have a future together. He suggested I come over and spend time with him so that we can know if we're "still compatible". I told him that we are as compatible as we've always been, but that didn't change the situation he's in, the damage he's done, and his inability to be a father.

He took a lot of offense to that part about being a father. I told him that, from what I could gather, he was likely to go to prison for at least a few years. He cut me off to say that he thinks he could just get probation. We bickered about the reality of that for a few minutes and then the conversation went on with him trying to explain how things can get better, if I can just give him that chance . . .

I had previously made up my mind not to tell him about the divorce until I file. Jake has never been hostile in my presence, but he's been deceptive so many times now that I feel I can't even trust my own belief in his apparent non-violent demeanor. So I have been mum about the divorce out of fear that he would react in a dangerous way. As we talked on the phone, I softened up to him. I never lost my determination to divorce him, but I started feeling bad that I was keeping it a secret. I started imagining the day that he would receive notice and how heartbroken he would be. I had to really struggle during the conversation to keep from blurting out, "I'M LEAVING!"

Somehow, I managed to hold it in, but I allowed myself to repeat what I've told him before, "I don't know how long I can stay here. I can't afford the mortgage and this isn't good for the kids. I might have to leave." We were both crying.

Anyhow, it ended with him asking me to call him again some time. "Sure," I said. I really meant it, too.

I immediately called my therapist because I felt deeply disturbed about the whole conversation - mostly because of how much he could soften me up with just a few kind words. She listened kindly and then asked me if I had read his psycho sexual evaluation. She asks me that every time I talk to her. For the longest time I had the excuse that no one had given me a copy. So she gave me a copy. Really, I didn't want to read it. I felt like I had already accepted that he is sexually disturbed and a likely danger to his own children, so why did i need to read the details behind those facts? Well, this time when she asked I felt moved to actually do it. I sat down and read about all the ways he is a sexual deviant.

The report was nauseating and sad. A few things stuck out to me. First, he is attracted to every age and gender. They have a special device to measure that, you know, but I don't really feel like getting into that.That part actually didn't disturb me as much as the next part about how he doesn't have proper empathy for others when it comes to sex. Basically, he is not able to distinguish if a person is desiring sex or not. This is dangerous enough when you're dealing with adults, but he could possibly misinterpret a child's innocent affection as a sexual advance. I thought about how he used to sit with Elise on the sofa and watch T.V. Did he make any misinterpretations then? Luckily, the next part of the evaluation summarized the polygraph in which he was found to be truthful in denying any sexual contact with his own kids. Thank God. The most painful part of the report was reading the statements of Jake and of the victim. The victim's statement was so damning. I expected that Jake would downplay his bad behavior - and he did. I was equally expecting that she would exaggerate it. But everything she said rang true. He came on to her and said inappropriate things to her. Everything she described had him down to the letter. I had previously believed that he had just got caught up in the moment with her, but now I know for sure that he was actively pursuing her. He was planning it and following through . . . and he was enjoying it. As if he was living out his favorite wet dream.

But wait, there's more! He told the evaluator that he had an affair when he was 33. That would be the second year of our marriage, about the time Elise was one year old. If I needed something to solidify my resolve in divorcing him, that would do it! Sure, I knew he had gone to massage parlors and had internet sex with strangers, but he wouldn't have called any of those affairs. And I think I know who it was with, which makes it doubly hideous, but that's another long blog post for a different day . . .

As I reached the end of the report, I was absolutely sure that this marriage was over and that our kids needed to be removed from this situation. There was just one thing that made me sorry about this decision. It was a line in the evaluation summary: "Periodically sad, empty, and lonely, he is likely to have deep frustrated yearnings for social acceptance." That is the kind of thing that makes me want to stay and give him the love he obviously needs because he will never have that social acceptance.

But every bit of energy I spend taking care of Jake (who can't return that love and care properly) weakens me and lowers the chances that our kids will have a healthy childhood. Our kids need me - and deserve me - more than he does.

The water heater, the phone conversation, and the psycho sexual evaluation left me emotionally drained. I spent a good portion of that afternoon unable to function, holding on to a cup of tea, and just shivering. Thank goodness my mother was there. When I resurfaced from my emo-coma, we made plans to get away for the weekend and get away for good. It's going to take a few months, but the plans are solidifying and I am looking forward to it.