The second thing I noted was how isolated he is. Over ten years ago when xH first abandoned us and moved back to his country of origin, he bonded tightly with a circle of friends. Some of them were people he had known for some time, and some of them were the alienator's friends and relatives. I remember how giddy and euphoric he was about his new life and his new social circle who he considered "very important people". I was banished, and he did the best he could to hide our children, only taking pictures of himself with the alienator, and her children. Even though I spoke with him every few months, he was worried about being seen in public with me, and when we met for lunch he would scan crowds and doorways as we spoke. Afterward, he had momentary successes but he also had a series of setbacks, perhaps in some cases due to his behavior, but also in part due to historical events beyond his control. He was unemployed for years while he lived with the alienator and her family. Now as I speak to him and asked one by one about what happened to these friends, I realize that he hasn't spoken to most of them in years. Eventually, he fell out with them and distanced himself. They were fair-weather friends, and once they saw he was no longer as successful as they initially believed they slipped away. More and more I understand that he came back home to us because we are all that he has left. His fantasy of a new life evaporated.
Although he told me when he arrived three months ago that he is "home to stay", he now describes his current job as an "experiment". While this description is understandable, after all the job he has is a grueling graveyard shift and not exactly what he is best suited for, it also causes me some worry. Is our family also an "experiment"? He still does not publish photographs of himself with the children.
Sometimes I feel like he is not entirely out of replay. He rambles on about fantasies of going someplace else and starting over. Jobs in the countries he mentions would never hire someone of his age, and the type of work he describes no longer exists. I feel sad for him, and also for us, as we have suffered greatly from his intoxication with his "starting over" fantasy. I can see that "starting over" is a powerfully addictive drug for him, and he has a hard time resisting its allure.
My sons are as happy as I have seen them in the last 12 years. I can tell that they are greatly reassured to see their parents living together as we enter old age, even though it is quite noticeable that we are not in a relationship. Their happiness is more than adequate compensation to me, and while I can in no way guarantee the future, I will allow this story to evolve and see where it takes us.