Splinters

There comes a point when something no longer works. A radio; a car; the human body. And sometimes relationships don't work. The idea of divorce is something loathsome to me and yet, I find myself saying aloud the words I never wanted to speak: "I want a divorce"--and I am getting one. Liz and I are now officially separated--this was my call and my emphatic decision. It is never easy going public with these kinds of revelations; you are under scrutiny from that moment forward--you start to feel someone wants to say "you are a failure". You don't want that scar; that blight upon you. I never wanted to be like everyone else--or so it seems. And yet, most of my friends, who are of my age are divorced or getting divorced and it's unsettling.

To a great extent, I think that's part of the reason why I stayed much longer than I should have in this marriage. You may hit a rough patch, but then you're supposed to work it out. You don't just give up with a shrug of the shoulders. If I had done that, it would be an admittance of defeat. But then, how long do you stay when you've already reached the endpoint of unhappiness? A divorce is a badge of dishonor, but it's also a saving grace when you can't feel anything for that person you once thought you felt something for. Sometimes you have to say "I've fought the good fight, but I can't fight anymore; I don't believe it's worth fighting for any longer".

It's very sad, if there's one emotion I can ascribe to this. But I came to the decision and I'm acting on it. Someone had to stand up and say this is no good. It's one thing to leave a band; it's one thing to leave a job--even to leave a career behind. But it is not easy to leave a marriage. I'd been married to Liz for 11-plus years. I couldn't see being married to her for even one more. It had to end. Lies, distrust, distance, coldness--all of it poisoned the relationship. And in trying to keep a grasp on knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, I wound up doing and saying all the things I didn't want to. I do apologize; I'm human. I'm angry and frustrated and tired of having been seen as an idiot for putting up with an empty performance for the last two years. Without going into too much detail I will divulge this: the final straw was her not being home with me the night my father died. I cannot nor will I ever forgive it.

At least I've made the necessary leaps forward of acceptance that I am now, albeit not legally yet, an "ex-husband". I've changed my will, etc.; I've removed her name wherever it may have been aligned with me, etc. She is an "ex-wife". We do not have children; our money has always been separate and we can now turn and walk away. I had a life before she came along; I am already finding the path to my own again and so far, it has been very sweet and enlightened. That isn't to say that we didn't have some happy moments; we did. It just wasn't meant to be any more than it was.

It's been a turbulent time, there's no question of that. In the same week of my father's passing came the end of my marriage and now maybe the rest of things will be more harmonious and joyful.

I would like to not be embittered by all this; I think the bitterness has already been digested over the last two years.