***I wrote this the night before the divorce and didn’t’ publish it, but I’m letting it go now. Partially this is because I just lost the draft of the other post I’d been working on, and partially because I think someone who is going through this kinda process might relate to it. I’m sorry it’s so sad, but it’s just where I was at. I’m doing a lot better again. I think I was so emotional because it was the last step in our ending. I have been already rebuilding and moving on for some time now, and it surprised me how fresh it all felt the day before and day of my divorce. I think it was a “last gasp”, and I’m happy to say it is fading back to where it had been after months and months apart. I don’t like that my marriage ended or the way it ended, but I feel like I’m making the best of it and the ways in which I am better off.
Quinky Girl did come with me that day and made a terrible day a little bit beautiful by being there and by her love. Afterwards I had lunch and a few drinks with her and Chicago and Chicago Boy. Later that night I talked to Cleveland and got a sweet message from Cleveland’s wife. And later, when I was kinda breaking down again, I talked to Traveler for a long time, saying all the terrible things I was thinking and being loved through each one. The next day I got up and felt better. I’m not alone and I am loved. I’m overall pretty happy again. I have come a long way since Hubby and I separated and I’m back to that. But I wanted to let this post go in case someone needed to relate.***
It’s 1 am the day of. In the morning I’ll head down to the courthouse and finalize my divorce. Hubby plans to be there and Quinky Girl is coming with me, thank fucking God. I didn’t think to ask her or anyone to come and she offered and I very gratefully accepted.
Getting married you hardly think about the paperwork. It’s a formality and a legal thing that pales next to the commitment you are taking. Divorce is the opposite. It’s all about the paperwork and it’s at 1 am that I can’t stop crying thinking of what was lost. I’m getting flashes, like a damn movie of him laughing with his head back and his white teeth and the way his eyes crinkled. I’m remembering dancing in a parking lot with him and how funny it was that he wore my engagement ring before he gave it to me. I’m thinking of us blessing our dead baby, a fetus sitting in a dixie cup on a silver tray in an ER. I’m thinking of the first trip we ever took together, to Maui from Oahu, and the drunken happiness of being with him. I’m thinking of wrestling with him until we were both exhausted, and the way he cried the first time we had sex. I can picture touching his belly, and holding him when his ex-wife took his daughters to the mainland and he was broken. I can still feel his tiny kisses on my eyelids and his absurd glee about Jeep trucks and his first one, with the sound system worth more than the truck. God. I just can turn it off right now. It’s almost over. It’s really been over for a long time now, but it’s almost over. It’s almost over for real. I’ve let it come peice meal because otherwise it’s almost too much to bear. Continue Reading »