Scary is not for me

One of the reasons that I really don't like horror movies (or "suspense" movies) is that they are often too true for comfort when it comes to revealing human nature at its ... uh ... finest. I spent a ridiculously long time trying to think of a memory of being in a "threatening situation with others," just like in the movie The Mist, but to be honest, I tend to block out those types of memories. But I do know that when you have hard choices to make, and no matter what you decide, everything could go wrong and someone's going to be mad, it can be so overwhelming that it seems like the easiest thing to do is just do nothing.

When Ben was 4 months old, we flew to my friend's wedding for a long weekend. When we arrived back in Idaho, it was past midnight by the time we drove the two hours from the airport. Stephen had left his car at his work (I can't remember why — see? Blocked it!) and I was supposed to drop him off so he could drive it home. I knew that both of our phones had dead batteries, so made sure he had the key while we were still en route. By the time we got there, baby Ben had woken up and was crying to nurse. We were only 5 minutes from home, so it seemed silly to sit for 20 or 30 minutes to nurse him in the back of the cold car. So I dropped Stephen off and drove home as fast as I could to nurse the now screaming baby.

When some amount of time passed, I thought, "Maybe he decided to pick up some groceries, since he knows we have nothing in our fridge. That's sweet." When more time passed, I thought, "Something must be wrong. Why hasn't he called?" I double checked to make sure that my phone was plugged in and on. I knew that his phone was dead, but surely he could find one to use somewhere. When even more time passed, I assumed he must be walking home. But soon, two hours had gone by. If he were walking, he'd have arrived already. I started to really freak out. Ben was asleep and so I called my friend (who also happened to be our neighbor) to come over and stay with Ben (he's a night-owl, I knew he was up) while I got in my car and prayed I found my husband alive and in one piece.

As I was about two minutes onto the road, my phone went off.

"Are you going to come get me now?" was the snarky greeting of my husband.

"Yeah, I'm on my way, where are you? Are you OK?"

"What took you so long?"

"Why didn't you call?"

And on and on the fight went. The circular logic is not even explainable here, but we were both exhausted, upset and very sure that the other person was the one who had messed up big time. I wouldn't say that the situation brought out our "true" nature, as we love each other very much and usually don't have very many big fights, but it certainly took what would normally be considered manageable feelings (worry, fear of abandonment, etc.) and magnified them big time. Because I was scared and didn't know what to do, I just waited and thought, "Surely this situation will work itself out." The problem is, my husband did the exact same thing, and so we each were hoping the other one was going to save us. Sometimes you can't depend on others to save you. Sometimes you have to go out and do the saving.

I am not planning to see The Mist by Stephen King because I have enough stress in my own life. I don't need to go pay money to get even more emotional. But I know there are plenty of people who do like horror movies, and even find them to be somewhat therapeutic. And if other people want to learn life lessons from those types of movies and pass them on to me? Great. Just leave out the grisly details please.