His world is mostly made up of words.
The man reads them, writes them, speaks them. Plenty of words.
As both writer and literary agent, my husband’s days and many evenings are filled with information and conversation. And since he works out of our home, he has the convenient flexibility of no set office hours. This also means he’s very inconveniently available to all who need, or want, his attention most any time.
So perhaps it’s not too hard to understand why we occasionally have the impulse to GO? To grab a mocha from Joe’s Coffee Depot, turn the cell phone to silent, and simply get out of town…
This is the perfect date — he drives and I talk. Only him and me. I have his full attention and few interruptions. What could be better?
Except this one time I decided to do a little experiment. What if I didn’t talk? What if I sat in the passenger seat and quietly looked out the window? How long would it be before he began speaking to me…?
If you’ve already guessed that it was way too many miles down the road, you’ve guessed correctly. Far, far too many miles. And it began to make me mad.
As his silence burned deeper and deeper into my soul, I suddenly did the Exploding Wife Thing, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!”
He nearly swerved off the road. Completely baffled, “Doing what??”
“Well, why is it that you are not talking to me?”
[Read the rest of the article at The Time-Warp Wife.]