Sunday, February 13, 2011

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. 

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