I Can Smell the Change Coming

Day Three: Something Smells Rotten . . .

Its in the air. I can tell by her demeanor, she is up to something. Probably not anything nefarious, but something I am having a hard time facing. She is about to file for divorce. This isn’t so bad. I don’t trust her. I can’t stay married to her. I wouldn’t consider reconciliation, because I know that we would be back where we are now in a few years, and doing it twice would wreck the kids more than I can imaging. I don’t love her anymore, because I can’t. We don’t work anymore, because the bond was broken by her. It happened some time ago, but the final rip of the tape off my hairy arm was her moving out. This I have said before. Up until that point I would consider reconciling with her. I would say I would now, but the truth is the hill she has to climb is so insurmountable, I don’t believe she can do it. So why does it bother me. There are a few things.

The first is this is the final severing of the bond I entered into for a lifetime. I have to acknowledge once and for all that she did not enter into that bond with the same expectations. I have to acknowledge that I was lied to, and somewhere deep down I knew that. I wanted so badly to be married, and I loved this woman. I wanted it to be her. I have come to terms with this multiple times. Emotionally it rears its head again and again. The basic thing I must always remember is that I have control of one person in this world, and that is me. I entered into the bonds of marriage for it to be forever, and I never saw an escape hatch. That she did not enter into marriage to forsake all others forever and ever is not my problem.

The second is the loss of control. Right now things are pretty good. Is she going to try and change the playing field through divorce, or is she going to leave things as they are. Until we have it on paper and agreed upon, I won’t know for sure. I hope that she deals with me fairly and honestly, and with honor, but how can I believe that she will until she does. The very act of divorcing me is dishonorable. Time will tell.

the third is like the second. We will at some point have to allow the judge to rule. He may or may not accept the terms that we have determined are favorable for both of us. I hate that we as adults can’t come to a decision without a third party interjecting itself into the mix. I have to say that this bothers me on so many levels. The judge is acting for the state, not as a neutral party in divorce. He is trying to ensure the state won’t incur further costs do to our actions before it is evident that will happen. This is probably not legal under our laws, but they have been granted tremendous lea way in these matters.

The fourth is a bit more esoteric. I don’t want to be the divorced guy. I have spent my life in Christian circles with happily married couples. I don’t want to be that guy. I know that guy. People feel sorry for that guy, and he is invited, so he won’t be alone. All this is great for that guy, but I don’t want to be him. I would almost rather not be alone at the bar. I am never alone at the bar for very long.

One of my daughters had a birthday on Friday. She was at her mom’s place. Thursday, I stayed over late at her house and worked on some homework with my oldest son. I saw her anger and his anger collide. I saw it with fresh eyes. I hated it. It made me sad. I was exhausted when I left. I had dinner with my daughters earlier that night. It was nice, but a poor substitute for waking up with her in the morning. I was the Watchdog at her school for her birthday. That was great, but the night before, I went home and folded laundry while getting a fire going outside. I opened up the Captain Morgain Private Stock and drank. As I drank I began to cry. I never got drunk, but I needed the liquor to loosen me up and cry. I cried because I would not see my daughter wake up to her present in the morning. I cried because my son and my wife can’t seem to get it together, and I can’t help in many direct ways. I cried because my wife wants to drug my son into submission, and will probably win that battle, at least initially. I cried for the death of my marriage.