Where We Left Our Noble Hero
I was pointing out to my wife that we lived separate lives, hardly saying 100 words to each other, nothing typically more than "where's the sugar" and certainly nothing profound or personal. Nope, profound left us behind. She would eat at different times. Actually, she brought in restaurant food almost daily for her and the kids. This pinged me a bit, its true, as I am a frugal sort. A way frugal sort. And here she is bringing in non-cheap restaurant food maybe 8 or 9 days a week? Ouch. AND not talking to me. MUCH LESS no physical contact.
I thought I would be really scientific (did I say before that I'm a REAL scientist, and own a slide rule?) and make a list of the issues that were befronting us. So I made that darned list, you betcha, and showed her. No reaction. She can be very cold. And things went on. I would work all day, then exercise, eat by myself, and then go upstairs and watch "The Wire" or something (what an excellent show). I wouldn't say much to the rest of my family. My daughter might bounce in, like Tigger, and say "hi" and "I love you", and then bounce away. But nothing from the step-kids per se, and nothing much from my wife.
Sooooo.... Eventually she points out that we should get a divorce and I burst out in tears. And I cry and cry. But she doesn't care. I go to bed feeling like crap. Over the next few weeks I beg and I beg and I cry and I cry but she doesn't care. Cold as a rock.
Oh, did I say that she had an old high school friend living with us? He apparently was having money problems, so she invited him to live with us (I don't recall if I was part of the discussion on this. Maybe). Of course, they were thick as thieves, and made a little clique that I wasn't part of. They both love guns, so they would take assault rifles apart on the dinner table to clean them, to the delight of the step-kids, who were also gun nuts. And go on shooting rampages at the local ranges.
There it was. She asked for a divorce. She wouldn't change her mind, no matter what. I begged her. I actually said I would become a Republican if that would heal things (she laughed at that). Finally, in early November 2016, I started looking for a new place. I looked at cheap condos, not knowing what my income flow would be, and came home in tears. After pissing off one realtor, I finally found an acceptable 1 bedroom condo for me to live in. I had plans for building a loft for my daughter, when she would come to visit me.
And here I am right now in the condo, typing away madly.
No Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving week I moved out of my loveless house, into my empty condominium. Geez, I thought I had it bad at home. In the condo, I was all alone. Nobody around. Just me and my thoughts, and they weren't happy thoughts. Going from a full family life to being absolutely alone is kind of horrifying, even when your full family life totally and completely sucks.
But my wife was kind. She invited me to Thanksgiving. She said it was for the kids, notably my 13 year old daughter. I had WANTED to go to Norm's restaurant, because it never closes, and it looks like a great place for the lonely to hang out, but I went to her house instead. AND IT WAS WEIRD. It was my old family, plus the mooch and a NEW GUY who was an old high school friend of hers and was a sniper or something, that was teaching her how to shoot. Boy oh boy, was THAT a crappy Thanksgiving. My step-kids were already disassociating me. I lived with them for 15 years, and they were imitating mommy and shutting down communication. My daughter, sweet as ever, bounced around like Tigger and didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. And the two old high school friends of my wife occupied all of her fancies. I was like a ghost at a party. Or I felt like my father, who was always treated like crap by my wife (he was a liberal after all), or my mother, who was also treated like crap by my wife (my mother was VERY liberal). Yes, I had become my parents at this holiday party, at least I was treated like crap, just like they were, by my wife.
It's a hard rain, gonna fall.
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