Paint It Black

Mr. Ex is a glutton for punishment.

I'm certain there are days when he wonders what he's gotten himself into. And if he doesn't wonder that, I sure do. He must have a high threshold for mental anguish. Or he's secretly a masochist. I'm not sure which of the two it is. All I know is that I'm positive that I've gotten the better deal out of the two of us.

You see, I'm used to getting the bare minimum. Although J-Fed tried for a long time in our marriage, it usually seemed like he could never measure up. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was him. Regardless, I was always miserable and feeling like I was the captain of a large vessel, navigating the high seas without a crew.

But that's no more. Those days have come and gone. Mr. Ex goes the distance... and he does it often. I can recall when I needed J-Fed to help me out with a thing or two. I usually had to resort to bribery to get it done. Or he would pull the old passive agressives approach where he assured me that he'd eventually get to it. Two weeks later... the trash would still be in the can and we'd have flies everywhere to high hell. Okay, so the OCD in me would never, ever let that type of bad hygeine happen. But you get my point.

The irony is that when I didn't feel like waiting around for J-Fed to grant me my simple wish, I'd do it myself. This pissed him off even more. He'd tell me I had no patience. He'd also go on to explain that when I wanted something done, I had to have it done "RIGHT THEN." Well, yes and no. I wanted it done right then because I knew if he didn't strike while the iron was hot, he'd never get around to it. EVER. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not in a month. NEVER.

By the time we got divorced, I no longer felt put out having to do it all. Because well, that's how it had gone the last year or so of our marriage, maybe even longer if I thought about it hard enough.