I asked husband to come dancing with me tonight.  I haven’t done that for a long time because he gets annoyed, but I know that if I don’t ask him, then at some point in the future, he will turn this round on me and say I exclude him.  Sometimes when I ask him, I don’t actually want him to come: it feels like my space and my life and my friends.  At other times I wish he would.

Of course, he didn’t come.  And tonight I was disappointed.

But when I thought about it, I decided he’d probably be shocked: shocked at how relaxed and uninhibited I am when I’m dancing as I always used to be quite self-conscious; at the ease with which I chat and laugh with people, many of whom I’ve known for over a year, whose names he has never heard because he doesn’t want to know anything about my new friends; at the way I dance, because I’m in the advanced class now and whilst I’m by no means brilliant, I can certainly give it a good go.  I used to be fairly quiet and live a bit in his shadow so I think he’d be surprised at my confidence.  Perhaps he imagines, rightly or wrongly, what my nights out are like, or perhaps he doesn’t even think about them.  Who knows?

Then, when he came in from his night out, drinking down the club, he had a go at me for having asked him, accusing me of playing some kind of game and saying this didn’t bode well for the future.

How can asking your husband to spend the evening with you, to share part of your life, be ‘some kind of game’?

The gulf widens.

It doesn’t bode well for the future.