The Traveller's Wife

I have a much better appreciation of The Time Traveller's Wife these days. When I read the book, I thought it was creepy and sappy. I mean, you have this guy who travels back in time to meet his wife when she was six years old. How pedophilic is that?

But with The Man coming and going so often these days, I feel he is always leaving me. Just like the wife in the book. Except I know when to expect The Man's comings and goings. I help arrange his travels.

The part of the book I appreciate more now is the wife's constant waiting and yearning, trying to build a life with her husband while living on her own. As strange as that sounds, it is also kind of romantic. It's like always anticipating the lover's return while denying his existence. Like Etta waiting for the Sundance Kid but rides the bike with Butch. Like the queen waiting for her musketeer lover while serving the king.

So The Man left me again tonight. When I got home from dropping him off at the airport, he's already left a sweet message on the phone for me. And I think, wait, wait. Is that from the lover or the husband? Then I said, Does it matter? Even in my over-romanticized fantasy of my marriage, it doesn't.