Best Friend's Forever... Not

I've talked to therapists. I've talked to lawyers. I've talked to friends. I've talked to family members.

Yet never have I received the kind of insight into my failed marriage as I did from our 5-year-old daughter this evening.

This weekend was chock full of knockdown, drag out fights between J-Fed and I. Just two weeks ago he was rubbing my feet and watching the classic Bowe vs Holeyfield on ESPN Classic. In fact, the week before we were joking over sushi. It seemed like old times. But today is a new day, and things are not very shiny and happy.

When crap rolls down, it rolls down fast. Our amicable split has become not so amicable as of late.

Hatred oozes out of every vitriolic exchange of insults. In light of some of J-Fed's recent actions, I've come to realize that it's impossible for us to be friends... even for the sake of the kids. A friendship involves two parties... and when one is selfish, manipulative, unkind and insensitive, maintaining a positive relationship is impossible and unnecessary. I would encourage J-Fed to make plenty of new friends; he'll need a whole band of them to help take care of him.

Yes, sadly we've gone from best friends to worst enemies. Ah, strike that. I think an enemy would treat me better. At least they might push me in front of a speeding train and end my misery. The Fedster would rather just subject me to endless
torture.

Anyway, it was miserable. After just 10 minutes of banal arguing, I found myself deplete of any energy, not to mention staving off a wicked migraine. He had the ability to suck the life out of me like some superleech that attaches itself to the side of your head and instantly performs a brain drain.

Anyway, daughter and I were bonding out front and the subject of her father and I came up. I explained that we don't get along very well.

"Sure you do. When he's in his house and you're in your house," she pointed out.

"Ok, but even then we don't always get along," I stated the obvious. She wasn't blind, deaf or dumb by any stretch of the imagination.

"So why don't mommies and daddies get along?" she asked the million dollar question.

"I don't know. People change I guess," I said, giving the best answer I possibly could under the circmustances.

"No they don't. People don't change," she assured me. I'm sure she envisioned her father morphing into some other person. HA!

And she was oh-so right. Daughter definitely had a future in mental health or at the very least a shot at picking a suitable mate. She had learned early on what so many women spend their entire lives missing. You see I was "that girl" the one who thought she could transform a boy into a man. I honestly believed if I did everything I could for him, bought him whatever he wanted, went to the ends of the Earth to make him happy that he'd actually be a responsible, equal partner. And that he'd love me.

I wanted to change him from being selfish, immature and irresponsible. And because I wanted him to change, he rebelled. And when I say rebelled, I mean did everything in his power to go against me until I finally decided it was time to call it quits.

He was like a child. I could almost imagine his thought process. Maybe if I go out every night, blow hundreds of dollars on alcohol and tips, waste a bunch of money on go carts and leave her all by herself to take care of the newborn and the 5-year-old, she'll have no choice but to make me leave. Then it's not like I left -- she kicked me out. And if I act REALLY
irresponsible she'll be the one to file for divorce so I won't even have to deal with that headache.

They say the best laid plans often go awry, but not in J-Fed's case. His master plan went off without a hitch. If memory serves right, it was the same strategy he used to get removed from miltary school almost two decades ago.

You see, I've only come to this conclusion based on the fact that J-Fed is now responsible. He ties his own shoes. He wipes his butt. And he even makes his own PBJ sandwiches. He's like a new man. All of that so called bad behavior he parted ways with when he moved out of Basketcaseville. Hell, he has to take care of himself, or at least find someone else who will.

I'm proud of him. Gold stars all around J-Fed. It's good to see that you were capable all along but simply chose not to be a kind, considerate partner. Oh that's right, if I hadn't been such a nag, things would have been so much different. Yeah and if mom had balls, she'd be dad.

Another thing that recently came to mind was when daughter refused to go over to the Fedster's house because she wanted to stay at the house and play with the neighborhood kids. We couldn't bribe her with all the tea in China to go over there.

After one particular day, I looked at her and explained that she had really hurt her father's feelings.

She replied,"oh yeah?" I explained that he sounded as if he were going to cry.

"Call him back. I want to hear what it sounds like when he's almost crying," she said with a mixture of sincerity, concern and interest.

It was an innocent comment, but for a fleeting moment I saw myself in her. I'd like nothing more than to watch that little

bitch cry. Paybacks are hell J-Fed. And if you're unhappy, well then I'm on top of the friggin world. You've done everything in your power to make me suffer, and I hope it comes back on you tenfold.

I'm constantly reminded on a daily basis that daughter was right. People don't change.
Once an inconsiderate dolt, always an inconsiderate dolt.