Mostly I fell into my translation. The catacombs of meaning in the labyrinth of other languages. Words floated through my world. They stamped everything with import. I left my husband to his walls, the ones that said everything was going to be okay, even if they weren’t. Even if they couldn’t know. None of that mattered.
We lived together but separately for some years. Maybe three. Maybe four. When he came out of his fog, finally, we were different people. It took us a while to come back together as a couple, but it happened. I learned that time can take care of just about anything.
I don’t know what he learned. Patience, maybe. Or the power of the abiding love of his wife. Something. He never told me and after a while I stopped asking. I was just happy to have him back.
I assumed my hu
