Frankly My Dear...

...I don't give a damn!

I've always loved Gone With the Wind, but never realized I identified with Rhett Butler til now. (Separate from this insight, the words "frankly" and "damn" have studded my speech about this situation with amazing frequency.)

"You're throwing away happiness with both hands, and reaching out for something that will never make you happy," he tells Scarlett. That's exactly what my husband has been doing for a very long time, and it isn't just me who has told him that he needed to choose contentment. It won't matter in the slightest what he has or doesn't have.

I've been kicking myself for not saying, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," much sooner.

But guess what? I did say it!

I've also been analyzing the point at which he crossed into deception.

That was when I said it, not in so many words but to myself and God. I realized I could never control his actions and had to stop trying. Had to stop knowing about them too, to protect myself. I started worrying about me, then, maybe for the first time in our marriage.

That's why the last six weeks were pretty good for me! After the first crushing blow I looked back and thought, "What a sham; I thought things were better." But they were better for me because I had finally frankly-my-deared him in my mind. He had to let his thoughts and actions take their own disgusting course, and now he'll have to take the consequences.

And other than communicating how I feel and doing what I need to do to protect myself without concern for his feelings, those consequences are entirely in God's hands.

And frankly my dear, I don't care how damned awful they are.