July 29, 2007 at 10:02 AM | Posted in Journal | 4 Comments
  Most often, I write these beforehand, so I can edit.  This is a little more from-the-hip.  In the cool of the early morning breeze coming from the air conditioner duct near me, and the filtered, indirect light…
  A chance for reflection.

  My divorce is final.  It’s been basically a year since we split up.
  –And that is glossing over it, making it politically correct, and not saying anything about whose fault it is.  It’s been a year since I left.  Since I walked out.  Since I got the nerves, the balls, the fortitude to make a change in my life.  I remember the screams, the sobs, the pain and the pleading from my ex.  Funny, but only occasionally do I remember the days and nights and months and years and years of her chipping away at my manhood.  Little by little, piece by piece, squeezing the manhood right out of my testicles.
  And not in a good way.
  In that year–and it has taken a year–I have found that she has learned to move on.  Good, I’m glad.  I . ….Look, I feel sorry for her, okay?  She is a bitter old woman, betrayed once again by a man, and her prospects for getting another one at this age are pretty bleak.
  When I met her, at least she was pretty.  And she could suck start a leaf blower.  Maybe she doesn’t want another man in her life, maybe she gave up on that.  She may yet find someone, I don’t know. 
  The family–the only people I still have to answer to–they still don’t  ….
  Geez, this is a little more fragmented than I wanted.  You wanted free-flow, you get it, and all the false starts that go with it.
  I wonder how much the family gets it.  How much they understand.  Not my family.  My family is like the Corleones, they back me 100%, no question.  I mean her family.  And our kids.
  For the past 19 years, it has been her family.  Not mine.  She never liked my family.  Well, to be fair, she never liked her family–or anyone else–or anything–that much to begin with.  But her family she had to accept.  But it was always her family and functions that occupied our familial social gatherings.  Holidays, birthdays, graduations, weddings.  My family?  "I suppose–if we have to go."
  I liked some in her family.  Not all, although I came to tolerate and get along with most.  I liked her sisters, and in the tradition of most horn-dogs, I would have liked to bang Tina and Alisa.  Even Susan, the lesbian.
  And of course, her brother John, who died last year.  Sweet guy, never married.  Her oldest kids considered him a father growing up.  But her other brother Mike, kind of a dick.  His wife?  A complete cunt.  I believe she wrote the handbook.  Alot of the nieces and nephews were nice.  Alot of the nieces were cute…
  And Bob, Tina’s husband.  Good guy.  And their kids, Brian, Kevin, and David.  I liked them. 
  I just wonder what they all think of me.
  Not that it matters of course, not really.  I mean, they’ve known Linda their entire lives.  Either they know how she is, and all of her secrets. . .
  There’s no punctuation, by the way, to indicate when you raise your eyebrow.  Did you know that?

  I talked to my son a few days ago.  Her son.  Our son.  Her oldest, and not mine in the real sense. And only 8 years younger than me, but he calls me dad.  When I first went through all of this, he and his sister helped act as mediaries.  And they didn’t completely shun me.  It upset Linda to know that they could see both sides.  To her, there was just the one side, the side where I left her for another woman.
  But recently Mike told me that he remembers when this happened before, when his dad left.  They had never married, they were young.  Linda’s version was that he liked to fuck around.  I always bought that story.  Mike was young, around 4 or 5, but he remembers the arguing and fighting, and his mom. . ..
  Driving his father away.
  Revelation comes with a price.  The price of mine was divorce and alienation from my in-laws, separation from my children.  I may not have written this yet–I’ve told only a few people.  I told Detroit, in case it went to court, I couldn’t tell her yet, but now that it’s over–I can.
  As part of the divorce process, because children were involved, we had to go to mediation.  Cheaper that way, rather than have lawyers hash it all out.  But I still had to pay 75% of the 200 bucks, and she paid the rest.  The mediator is a 3rd party impartial lawyer, trained in this type of thing, used to all sorts of situations, and able to work things out with practically everyone.
  45 minutes into our two-hour session, the mediator (and let me remind you, a lawyer) was ready to give me a refund and give up.  Ponder the sheer wonder for a moment:  A lawyer ready to give a refund.  Oh, and this 2 hour session was the longest three days of my life, as well.  I left the room, she (the mediator) talked with my ex, then came out and talked with me.  I convinced her not to give up, and we tried a new tack.
  At the end, we left.  I hung back, not wanting to be in the parking lot at the same time as my ex, with her behind the wheel of a loaded vehicle.  The mediation was harsh.  I let her speak when it was her turn, but everytime it was my turn, she would interupt, interject, moan loudly in disbelief at everything I said.  The mediator had to correct her like a 3rd grader.  After she left the mediator and I talked briefly whilst I waited for the coast to be clear.  She said, "I know that I am supposed to be impartial here, and not take sides in this issue–"  she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.  "But Christ, I can see why you left her."
  This from someone who had met her for two hours.  A divorce lawyer who has seen all manner of good and evil.  Vindication comes in small, concentrated packages.  Just add water.
  We managed to work out most of the issues of the divorce, but mostly by me giving in and giving her every motherfucking thing I ever, ever had.  Everything.
  I call that a bargain.  The best I ever had.



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  1. sometimes is you just give it all away to get freedom it is worth it….i have had to do that before…
    *~*   :o) smiles are contagious…  :o)  so pass one on …  :o)  soon the whole world will be smiling… :o)   *~*  

  2.  I hope you at least got partial custody of your kids.

  3.  When I left after 20 years, my 5 in laws never called to ask why or how I was.
    I knew they believed all the lies their brother told them.
    It hurt. About a year after I left my daughter was going to the inlaws for some family BBQ.
    I told her, you know what went on, if they say something to you, don\’t let them lie about me.
    She told them what went on. Did they believe her? I doubt it.
    That was years ago and I have long since not cared what they think.
    I\’m glad you have your family behind you, I had my family behind me and thats all that matters.
    Mike seems to know his mother pretty well and the divorce lawyer knows what she is like.
    I am glad the divorce is final and your ex is moving on.

  4. It\’s been forever since I\’ve been on here. I saw your comment and decided to comment you back.Sorry to hear about your divorce but sometimes things happen like that. I don\’t know what else to say but you will be okay.Hopefully I can hear something back from you. I do have a myspace account, which I keep up with more. If you\’d liket he address, let me know.And one more thing. I saw I was linked in to being one of your favorites spaces or whatnot. You have my name wrong. It\’s not Emily but Angie. :)Take care.

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