Waking up at Gunstock Moutain Resort in New Hampshire for our first full day of vacation, all I can think is, where is the coffee? The 11:30PM arrival the night before which involved some not-so-nice words exchanged while the GPS evaded us, seasoned the RV air with the perfect ingredients for sweet dreams. Not. I went to bed, exhausted from packing the day before and my heart sinking for the weeks that lie ahead. If this is how we’re starting our vacation, angry and miscommunicating, I just want to quit now. Hide under the covers and wake up when it’s time to go home. That’s how I think when I feel desperate. Inadequate. Hopeless. And just genuinely messed up.
It was just a fight over directions, I try to convince myself. But under ever petty argument lies a deeper issue. When you’ve been married for more than a decade, you know each other too well to know when something is just a tif or a tip. As in the tip of the iceberg of abandoned issues. I tell him he doesn’t trust me. He tells me I don’t respect him. Tempers flare. Words fly. And in the small confines of the RV, every sound is heard. By everyone. Continue reading
