Yesterday, I went out on my own with the dog. I’d hoped that hubby would come, but he needed some quiet time alone.

Today, I asked if he’d like to go out somewhere. He couldn’t give an immediate answer, but since I had a run planned anyway, I wasn’t in any rush to know what he would like to do. He was in the middle of something when I got back, so I pottered around doing jobs until after lunchtime, by which time he was ready to head out somewhere.

In reality, I probably shouldn’t have gone for a run: I already had a bit of a headache. It was worse when I got back, but I buried it under some pain relief and hoped that it wouldn’t interfere. I had promised that we would talk one day on the weekend, and since I’d gone out on my own on Saturday, today was the only time we would be able to talk.

“I don’t want to go far,” he said.

We couldn’t have gone far anyway if we were planning to have lunch. Thinking quickly, I suggested driving into town for brunch, and then spending the afternoon sitting in the park and chatting.

We had a breakfast, then walked to a fabric shop for him to check out supplies for a pair of curtains he’s working on. After, we went into the smelly shop, which is full of incense and crystals and wonderful occult knickknacks. I think if it was a little bit of Glastonbury in Southampton and it’s probably my favourite shop here.

After grabbing our coffees, we crossed over to the park, admiring the strange trees and flowers that are cultivated there, before finding a quiet, sunny spot to sit and talk.

I opened by asking about his anxiety again. It had stopped him from coming out with me yesterday, and it’s always and obviously present – even to somebody as emotionally unattuned as myself: he vibrates and judders – there really is no mistaking it.

It’s really tragic, I realised, that two people who do love and care for each other find it so difficult to relax in each others company.

We discussed what a relationship should be like. I said that a relationship should be somewhere that both parties feel safe, secure, is nurturing, and is a place to heal. On that basis, our marriage has been a spectacular failure. That made me feel so sad.

He said that he was still going to terms with the basis of our marriage being a lie: I want who he thought I was and I didn’t believe what he thought I believed. Along with all the loved ones who attended our civil partnership in 2008 that are no longer with us for any number of reasons, he said that he felt that I numbered amongst them. That too hit me hard.

“Do you think I’m being silly?” He asked.

“No,” I replied, “you feel how you feel: it’s not for me to judge you.”

I am finally able to accept that he feels just what he feels and that I do not have to – that I should not – seek to change it. Accepting what he feels rather than seeking to alter it through logic or to invalidate it.

I asked him what would help him to manage his anxiety. He didn’t have an answer.

He wondered why I felt anxious around him now. Historically, his poor mental health, which would sometimes turn in violent words or even violent actions were one reason. I don’t think I could communicate how his words, even when he wasn’t ill, constitute a rejection of who I was – his criticism of how I communicate, my poor memory for some things, all his seeking to change me, in his eyes, were him trying to improve the situation for himself.

Perhaps it’s one of those irregular verbs or something – the same actions mean something different depending on who is doing them; for example: I am stubborn, you are honest, he is pig-headed.

I added that sometimes I feel as though things are going to work out just fine between us, and other days I think that we really are over. He said that he felt that much of the time. I said that sometimes I was afraid that it was fear that was keeping us together; he could relate to that: he is afraid of being alone. I also said that I feared that what kept me with him is my stubbornness, which makes me unwilling to give up and accept defeat. He could relate to that, too, although he wasn’t sure that stubborn was the word he’d choose.

I asked how he thought I was doing. He didn’t quite get the question, so I told him about my migraine, which he wasn’t aware of. I also said that, whilst I wasn’t suffering from any kind of overwhelm, I was getting a bit of “glue brain” due to the headache.

We both needed a wee, so I suggested that we walk to a café where we could get a fresh coffee and relieve our bladders. We could pick the conversation up when we got there.

We sat in the bright sunshine and watched the people go by. I commented on the various ways people walked and we had a laugh between us and told jokes. What a wonderful relaxed afternoon we had together.

We talked about having a date night on Wednesday, since our counsellor isn’t available – he wasn’t able to commit to it there and then, but the idea was floated.