Why I Got Divorced

I've been thinking a long time about posting about this. And it seems like it's the right time to reveal what exactly happened. The divorce is finally final. I've moved into my rental condo and unpacked. I've written about this incident in two writing classes. It's time I've shared with all of you what took place. God knows, I play it over and over in my mind enough...

That night, I was thankful our daughter was out of the way in our bedroom watching cartoons. I didn’t want her to see the scene in front of me. The cartoon music, low in the background, was an odd background score for what I was witnessing. My husband was standing in the kitchen, moaning quietly, rubbing his hands back and forth maniacally over the counter top, trying to rein in his emotions. When he looked at me, I didn’t know him. His eyes were so vacant and empty. I couldn’t find any love or even recognition reflected in them.

He had just told me he needed to see his therapist again. Two weeks earlier, he had gone to his doctor I thought to work through the stress of our remodel and the illness of his parents. When he returned from that appointment he revealed he was actually discussing how angry he was that we weren’t making love four times a week. While I thought that was a pretty tall order, (especially during a freakin' remodel!!!) we talked for hours on what we could do better and I thought we were on the road to recovery. I thought I’d dodged the bullet.

As I watched him break down, I realized I had to confront my fear. I think all women are born with an innate sense of danger, but domesticity has bred it out of us. My heart was pounding so much, I had trouble hearing. My own voice sounded muffled and far away.

I put my hands on the kitchen island to steady myself, “Are you interested in someone else?” His face instantly flushed with relief. He was so happy he didn’t have to tell me. I don’t think he had the nerve. “And is it the 30-year-old counselor you’ve been talking so much about?” He looked down and nodded. While I felt a certain amount of satisfaction at being right, I was also horrified.

15 years ago, this was a man I was absolutely thrilled to marry. I thought he’d never betray me. And now he was standing there, confessing to me that he couldn’t stop thinking about this other woman. He said it in such a detached way. Like it wouldn’t kill me to hear this. Like I wasn’t his wife anymore. Like people tell intimate stories to complete strangers on an airplane. “I think about her constantly,” he said. “I’m obsessed with her.” I asked if he loved her and he said softly, “I have feelings for her.”

You’ve probably heard the phrase - My blood ran cold. Well it does. I felt this icy chill race through my extremities. I thought I was going to be sick or pass out. I asked if they had done anything - kissed, made-out, made love - and he said no. Then I asked, “How does she feel about you?” And he said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know if it’s reciprocated.”

He doesn’t know if it’s reciprocated! My husband was about to blow up our marriage and our family over an obsession. A fantasy. And he doesn’t even know or care if she’s attracted to him.

That's when I knew he was an idiot. An immature, weak, stupid, idiot. And here's the beauty part, not long after he found out the other woman wasn't interested in him at all. He actually tried to talk to me about it. As if I would be sympathetic.
Can you believe it? That's how delusional he was.

A couple of weeks later, while we were sitting in a our daughter's therapy waiting room he asked me if I regretted marrying him. Without hesitation I said, "Except for our daughter, yes, I'm deeply sorry I ever married you."

Looking back now, I feel like I was married to someone who was emotionally retarded.
There is no there, there. He's empty. He can pass as affable, and amiable. But there's nothing there. At least, not for me. And that's why I wrote this:

SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING


Emptiness has no mass.

No present.

No future.

No shadow to confirm its existence.

You are colorless.

Invisible.

A ghost of my past.

How can you long for a vacancy?

Be deserted by a cipher?

For years I did without.

The calories were empty

Like air rushing into a vacuum,

The void will be filled,

With passion.

And light.

And creativity.

Because you starved me.

I’ll have to be careful

I don’t gorge myself.


5/17/07