Scene 10: The Other Shoe

Done. All done. And what's worse? Over the fucking phone. He never once had the nerve to do or say any of this shit to my face. Nope. Verizon to Verizon. 

I don't know what to do with myself. I feel relieved. I can finally let go. I had been clinging so hard to this marriage until my proverbial fingernails were bloody. I had to let go to keep any amount of sanity. 

He said that he would look into filing for the divorce. We were going to keep it civil and do it without lawyers. I said great. Get it done. 

Fourth of July comes. The one year anniversary of the end of my life. The fireworks make me cry. I hope it's not like that every year. 

But life has to go on. I still have this girl to raise. I still have to go to work and pay my bills. I still have to live. 

I think I remember talking to him here and there. He had to go off on another work mission but was going to be close enough to visit his dad and brother.  I don't hear from him again for  while. That's fine with me though. I am trying hard to not be so angry and bitter that I lose myself. I am trying to see things for what they are. I am trying to remember that I fought like hell to make it work. I did my part. And now I can be done. 

My daughter is actively looking at colleges so we had some visits at the end of July. On the drive back home from a college I get a call from his brother. The brother is calling because he's been given the Volkswagen that's been sitting in the garage for a decade and was told to call me to see about picking it up. I don't care. One less thing for me to worry about. He tells me how devastated they all are. What's he thinking? You guys have been together for 20 years. Boy is his dad upset. I tell him these things happen. 

But doesn't the brother let slip that SHE was there. That he asked if he could bring her over to there house. I wish I could express how I was feeling then. I wish I could put into words the humiliation that he brought on me. I wish I could understand how someone who I had known since I was 13 years old could do me that way. I wish I knew who this man was. Because the man I married would have never ever ever done anything like that. Not in a million years. 

I tried calling but his mailbox was full. I texted him that he didn't have to worry about getting a divorce. That now I was divorcing him. I was getting a lawyer.

We didn't speak for another few weeks while he was away. In mid-August I drove down to Washington DC with a friend for a weekend getaway and he finally calls me. Asks if I'm getting a lawyer. I tell him what I found out from his brother. I go off about how he humiliated me. He tells me that she was in the DC for some training and just drove there to pick him up since he lost his previous ride. Blah... blah...blah.

Long story short he finally admits that he slept with her. After telling me time and time and time again that there was nothing between them. But he insists that it didn't happen until June. (Remember he asked me for a divorce in June!) Never before that. Ah, the other shoe. Of course. 

I said I hope you and that bitch are happy. And he tells me they're not together but he won't say why. I said well then you fucked up your life and got nothing to show for it. I said I have no problem divorcing you because you're not the man I married. I don't even know who you are. 

I said a lot of other things too. But apparently when I am enraged I suffer from memory loss. Who knew?

Moving on. 

Scene 9: Third Time's a Charm

Spring had arrived. He had put in for his retirement. I thought it was going to be June or July. Turned out it would be September or October. I was uneasy about the length of time he would continue to be away. But I was again, clinging to hope that things were going to be alright. 

We had agreed that we would give our marriage the chance it deserved. I'm sure it was an uneasy alliance. But I was willing to deal with anything to keep my family intact. 

At the end of April I was off on a girl's trip. He was coming home while I was away and would be home another week after I returned at the beginning of May. I had a great time on my trip. I had a chance to get away and clear my head. He called me often while I was gone. Normal husband and wife stuff. I was feeling pretty confident about us. 

I got home and we had a good reunion. I think it was a little tense on my part. I vowed not to ask any questions, make any waves or anything. We hung out a lot. As the week wound down, I asked if we were 'okay'. He said we were. I asked if things had been resolved with her? Did she know he was retiring and coming home to be with me? He said she didn't know and it wasn't any of her concern. There was nothing between them. Things with us were good. I could finally begin to breathe a little. I wasn't going to completely exhale until he was permanently back home, but oxygen was starting to flow again.

On day in June, we were talking on the phone as I was driving home from work. I remember asking him a question about whether or not he was excited to be coming home and he hesitated. He said something, I can't remember just what it was now, but something that made me stop breathing again. He was unsure but he didn't want to talk about it. No matter what I tried, he would not get into the details with me, but said he would talk to me on that following Saturday.

Saturday was my daughter's birthday. It was also the day they were having a graduation party for her boyfriend and the day before he was leaving home for a 5 week summer program at college. 

It was also the 3rd time he asked me for a divorce.

I was at party and the phone rang. I went out to my car to take the call. He started in on the same thing as always. He wanted a divorce. He couldn't say why. Love me, not in love...blah blah blah. I thought my head was going to explode. I just lost my shit. I was screaming and yelling, crying and angry as hell. I can barely remember all the words that passed between us. She was still in the picture somehow. She was getting a divorce. But I was supposed to believe that her divorce had no effect on my pending divorce. Yada yada yada. 

I wish I could remember more than just the pain and agony of the conversation. I wish I had recorded it so that I could recount all of the things we said back and forth but I can't. It was all just a rush of emotions. 

Three strikes and I'm out. Third time was a charm. I could not take it anymore. He had given me permission to let go. And let go I did. I had to in order to begin to climb out of this hole he had dragged me into. 

I just didn't know if I could make it out.

Scene 8: Strike 2

December came and went rather uneventfully. He wasn't able to come home for Christmas because he was traveling. My son went on his own to pick out the tree, a tradition that my husband had always handled. It was weird. But the kids decorated, like they do every year. My son and his fiance came and spent Christmas eve with us and we got up and opened presents together on Christmas morning. 

It was only the second Christmas in our entire marriage that he wasn't there. The first time he was deployed. I bought my first fake tree. That was a sad Christmas. But this time, not only was he deployed, but he was missing this time. Noticeably absent from the whole holiday. Ugh...anyway we survived and I started the new year with as much hope as I could muster. 

We were talking. It seemed that we were getting along pretty well. Tension were starting to ease up some. We were starting to laugh and joke like we used to. But at the same time I began noticing that we only talked when he was going to or coming from work. More and more we never talked about anything of substance or over any length of time. Again I was starting to feel some kind of way so we decided to schedule a Saturday talk in February. Just to have some time devoted to really talking. 

He asked for a divorce...again.

Fuck.

I asked why and of course he said the same old tired shit he had been saying. We had grown apart. He didn't feel the same anymore. He loved me but he wasn't "in love" with me. I fucking hate that expression by the way. I can live a thousand years and never hear that again.

He said he was tired of being the good guy and always doing the right thing. Well I couldn't compete with that. So I said ok. Whatever you want to do. 

I cried. I blogged and I prayed for several weeks. Finally in March I got him on the phone to talk about details. I had questions I wanted answered about how we were going to handle things like the house, cars, bill etc. But finally I said to him that the one thing that upset me the most was that he had not even given me a chance. Had not given us a chance to try and make it work. He agreed with that.

But then he asked me "what if I am attracted to someone else?" I said ok. Have you slept with her. He said no and I asked why not. He said because he was married. I told him that if he had really wanted to sleep with her, being married would not have stopped him. Someone right at that moment was fucking someone else and was married. And the fact that he hadn't was proof that he was a good guy. She was a symptom and not a cure. 

My point was, let's stay on plan. Retire, come home and we will give it our best to make it work. Get counseling and everything. And if by the end of 2010 he felt the same way, then we could say peace out and not feel bad about it. 

Again, he agreed.