The Final Chapter

So I've been blogging the steps leading up to my divorce for a while. I haven't posted anything since February. Probably because I filed the divorce papers and have since been dealing with so many other things with him.

But to be perfectly honest with you, I have just gotten to a place where I don't need or want to re-has this anymore. The pain, the confusion, anger, hatred, etc. that one feels when dealing with the end of a 21 year marriage has simmered down within me. 

I started this for the catharsis and I have it. I can't change what has happened. And quite frankly, when I see the bright future that lays ahead of me...I don't even want to. 

I am going to be moving and starting a new life soon and I won't be looking backwards.

Maybe I'll start a blog about that instead.

Thanks to the 3 of you who read this blog. I hope you weren't too bored. 

MWAH!

M

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.

Scene 7: Holiday Hurts

Thanksgiving was upon us. I own the T-Day in my family. We all take turns hosting holidays and somehow Thanksgiving became mine. I love cooking and having people over. It's always a great day with lots of food, laughter and Pictionary. We do not play about our Pictionary, understand? Folks have almost come to blows about drawing and guessing! But I digress!

Since he had not been home since July, we were discussing whether or not he would be able to make it home. He had been traveling a lot with the military and so we weren't really sure if he could make it. 

I so wanted him to come here. I hadn't seen him in months and I was anxious to see if things were going to be different when he got here. I wasn't sure of anything anymore, except that I believed we were going to be alright once he retired and came home. 

He had planned to come home but work kept him from making definitive plans. He wasn't sure if he would be back in the states in time and so I was up and down, back and forth. Finally he said he wasn't going to make it. Then he was. 

Anyway, Thanksgiving Day he arrives home, I rush out to the car to greet him and I can tell in his eyes that something was wrong. He tried to mask it but I could see that he was disappointed in something. I don't think he was disappointed to see me. More that he was expecting that when he got out of the car and saw me that everything would turn normal again. That his confused feelings would go away and there would be extra sunlight or something. Whatever he was looking for was not there and we both knew it. 

I ran up to my room and cried. I remember saying to God, "I thought you said everything was going to be ok!" and not getting a response. 

I had people coming so I had to get it together quickly. It was tense and weird and after the holiday was done and everyone was gone we lay in bed trying to talk. But I knew something was so very wrong. 

He left the next day and I would not see him in person for another 5 months after that Black Friday morning. 

Did I still have hope? Of course I did. I still believed that once he retired and came home everything would eventually get righted. I did still have faith in what God had said. I still believed that this rough patch would get made smooth again. It was a good marriage. It could survive this. It would have to or I was going to lose everything.

Back soon.

Scene 6: Birthday and Blurry Days

So he had asked for a divorce (that's two if you count the initial incident) and I balked. No, we were not going to talk divorce. I was going to give him time and space to think, without the pressure of having to talk to me everyday or answer my probing questions. He could take whatever time he needed to get his head on straight. No divorce!

In September I turned 41. (Just a year before we were on a cruise for my birthday. So much changed in 12 months!) He sent me flowers, like he did every year, and on the card he wrote "I will always love you. No matter what we're going through." I don't think he'll ever know how that crushed me and how it ruined my favorite day in the whole world. I knew we were going through stuff, but did he have to put that on my card? I couldn't stick that in the plastic pronged cardholder for all the world to see. I was gutted about that. Still am. It seemed so insensitive. 

Anyway, we trudge along through the fall. Me trying desperately not to do or say *anything* that would upset him. Me holding my tongue during every phone call. Me changing the way I respond to him or his conversation. All because I know if I make him mad, he's going to leave me. But also knowing, somewhere in the back of my mind that if I stay the person I was quickly becoming, he'd eventually leave me anyway. Who the hell was I? I mean, I am not the type to bite my tongue about much. I am outspoken, strong, determined and a badass. But right then and there, I was just mostly scared. Terrified. Panicked. What was I going to do?

I prayed. I blogged. I read scripture. I tried listening to God's voice instead of my own. And I heard God say that there was going to be restoration. Jeremiah 33:6-11 was what He gave to read over and over and over. And I did. 

But I also cried. A lot. There were times when I looked like I had just come out of the ring Mike Tyson. People at work thought that I had terminal sinus headaches because that was the excuse I used to cover the blood-shot and swollen eyes. I told so few people. Only 3 people in my circle knew. No one else could ever know. 

Between my birthday and Thanksgiving, it was nothing but a blur of crying, praying, blogging and hoping. I don't remember time going by at all. Just that one day I was giving out candy to the neighborhood kids and the next I was desperately trying to figure out how to tell the family that I was in no mood to celebrate Thanksgiving. 

My aunt had died the year before. She died a week after Thanksgiving and it was only because of her and her memory did I relented to continuing the tradition of hosting T-Day at my house.

Boy was it something.

Back soon!

Scene 5: Absence Does What?

Hi ho hi ho and off to work he went. When he left, everything between us was a decent status quo. We reiterated how much we loved each other. We talked about the things that were between us and we really knew that he just needed to retire and come on home. It was going to take some time but that was the plan.

He was going to end whatever was or was not going on with this woman. Although he repeated again and again that there was nothing to "end". Nothing ever got started. Ok I can work with that. 

So how come a month or so later he was telling me that he wanted to go ahead and get a divorce? What the...? I really just didn't know what to do, so I started to write. I wrote about being knocked down and getting back up. And I wrote it from a Christian perspective. I knew that prayer was the only thing that was going to keep my sanity. 

These writings led me to start a blog Fanning the Flames of Faith which I used to process all of these feelings of hurt, anger, resentment, hope and everything. Check it out sometime, but be sure you start from the beginning (August 2009).

Anyway...I still don't know what happened when he got back to work. Hadn't I convinced him that we were going to be okay? Didn't we leave things in a good place? What happened? He got back and saw her and all of that went out the window? 

Well I had already decided that I wasn't giving up right? I told him that we weren't going to talk divorce. I told him that I was going to give him all the space he needed. No pressure, just take the time he needed to get his head right. 

As for me, I'll be praying and writing. 

See you back here soon.