Intermission 3
I filed for divorce today.
It’s been over two months since my husband declared his lack of interest in working on our problems and rented an apartment in some undergrad neighborhood. He told me he needed to be alone for a while, which was a huge lie as he was already making out with someone else. I have no idea what he’s doing now, which is both easier than the alternative and horribly surreal. The good thing is that anything he does now has absolutely nothing to do with my current life. My identity is slowly turning into something fairly novel: me.
Since he moved out, multiple friends and family members have come forward with inspiring stories about various shitty things he has done and said over the years: ways in which he was rude, careless, immature, and basically a four-year-old in a very tall man’s body (people also did this when I broke up with E., the dude I had before him). My reaction to the stories (particularly to one told to my mom by one of her friends I don’t even know, and of course my mom broke a leg running to the phone to tell me) is oh my god, I’m a total tool. I mean, what else am I supposed to think? I spent the last four years of life with someone that bugged nearly everyone I know, and no one said anything (except my siblings). What kind of loser would be with someone like this. Oh, a codependent loser? That's the best kind.
Granted, I’ve often thought the things reported in these stories, and related complaints to my twin and other close friends on occasion. But I see the Saying Mean Things About Exes in much the same way I see Saying Mean Things About Indiana—don’t do it unless you’re from there. Of course, I know that from the friend side at least, they’re trying to show their solidarity and compassion with/for me by dissing on him. And I appreciate it, though sometimes it makes me feel sad and weird (and sometimes I ask for it). I don’t know what my family members’ reasons are. Oh yeah, to show me that I really am a failure after all. Anyway, the reason I’m not with him anymore has nothing to do with how annoying or inappropriate he is. It has a lot more to do with the fact that he is just simply not the right person for me. We don’t know how to make each other happy, and we never have.
Though everything I’ve written heretofore is true, this is also true: I miss him terribly in sad sad late night ways, and I spend most of my days feeling like someone ripped my right arm and leg out of their sockets, switched them, and forced me to walk around like that and won’t tell me where to go. And there are tons of mirrors everywhere. And ledges, many many ledges.
It’s been over two months since my husband declared his lack of interest in working on our problems and rented an apartment in some undergrad neighborhood. He told me he needed to be alone for a while, which was a huge lie as he was already making out with someone else. I have no idea what he’s doing now, which is both easier than the alternative and horribly surreal. The good thing is that anything he does now has absolutely nothing to do with my current life. My identity is slowly turning into something fairly novel: me.
Since he moved out, multiple friends and family members have come forward with inspiring stories about various shitty things he has done and said over the years: ways in which he was rude, careless, immature, and basically a four-year-old in a very tall man’s body (people also did this when I broke up with E., the dude I had before him). My reaction to the stories (particularly to one told to my mom by one of her friends I don’t even know, and of course my mom broke a leg running to the phone to tell me) is oh my god, I’m a total tool. I mean, what else am I supposed to think? I spent the last four years of life with someone that bugged nearly everyone I know, and no one said anything (except my siblings). What kind of loser would be with someone like this. Oh, a codependent loser? That's the best kind.
Granted, I’ve often thought the things reported in these stories, and related complaints to my twin and other close friends on occasion. But I see the Saying Mean Things About Exes in much the same way I see Saying Mean Things About Indiana—don’t do it unless you’re from there. Of course, I know that from the friend side at least, they’re trying to show their solidarity and compassion with/for me by dissing on him. And I appreciate it, though sometimes it makes me feel sad and weird (and sometimes I ask for it). I don’t know what my family members’ reasons are. Oh yeah, to show me that I really am a failure after all. Anyway, the reason I’m not with him anymore has nothing to do with how annoying or inappropriate he is. It has a lot more to do with the fact that he is just simply not the right person for me. We don’t know how to make each other happy, and we never have.
Though everything I’ve written heretofore is true, this is also true: I miss him terribly in sad sad late night ways, and I spend most of my days feeling like someone ripped my right arm and leg out of their sockets, switched them, and forced me to walk around like that and won’t tell me where to go. And there are tons of mirrors everywhere. And ledges, many many ledges.
posted by Julia Story at 12:22 PM
4 Comments:
I was thinking about this very issue after overhearing at least one such story and thinking about the weird dynamic implied in dissing the ex. My breakups have generally gone the otherway, with family members and friends reminding me just how fabulous said ex was, so hardworking and/or full of interesting trivia, and what am I, overpicky?
Either way its a weird place to put you in. I have never agreed with the total demonization. As you say, even though its meant to be supportive, it overlooks the many good qualities of the person and relationship and of COURSE you miss them. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, shrew. I am guilty of this, and I should know better. I'm sorry for adding to your pain. I love you.
you're not a tool...we're all fools for love. (says the fool who traveled across the country for a sociopathic crazy person...)
name one person who hasn't fallen for some git or another!
Love will cause one to do strange things, as will fear of rejection/codependency (I suffer more from the latter).
And BM, it's love that separates what you said from what my extended family has said/is saying. Not that they don't love me, but their comments don't come from their love for me. They come from their love of drama and gossip. I know you weren't coming from there.
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