Leapfrogging Karma

Looking at the cover of the New York Post, I have to say I can’t help but kinda nod.

You know, I honestly hope I’m wrong, but I feel for my ex husband and the woman he is hastily marrying before he deploys. Jesus. For a third time?

He married his first wife in similar fashion, and cheated on her with her best friend and neighbor, who was married to his friend. They had a years long affair where they did everything but have sex.. love letters, kissing, promises, late night talks… all of it. Then he fucked her, left his wife for that woman, who also left her husband. Sadly the terrible friend cheated on and left my ex before they could have their own hasty wedding. And about a week later he met me. We fell madly in love pretty rapidly too, but waited 2 years to have our own hastily done wedding. I found out about 6 months in about his infidelity on his first wife, and how recent it had been to us meeting too. He was legally separated but not yet divorced when we got together.  And I just kinda forgave it and thought we’d worked it out.

Funny that karma should be such a bitch.  

He's Getting Remarried

Okay.. so.. I had the 5 year anniversary of my father passing, which was the same day as my old wedding anniversary to my now ex-husband.  If you are just joining this or don’t know the history, my ex and I were together for 13 years, married 11 of it and monogamous about 11 of it. We opened up and became poly, and he left me for his girlfriend that I had also been dating until he was too jealous of her and I to continue. He told me he couldn’t be poly, and then that he could, and again that he couldn’t. He began dating our old dog walker in secret while we were separated but talking about working it out.  We have been apart about 3 years now and are divorced.

I did pretty well this anniversary and thought mostly of my father. I miss him, but it was somehow sweet this year to think of him, and not the aching pain of other times in my grief over him. It was good.

I messaged him and learned that he’d proposed to the dog walker and they were engaged. (He and the girl he left me for broke up in October of the year we separated and after we’d decided to divorce, and he’s monogamous with the dog walker since then).

Playground

August 10th is a hard day for me.  I wrote a very long very rambling blog about this anniversary last year. It was the day my ex-husband and I got married, and the day my father died (different years).  My father died on my 10 year wedding anniversary.  And a year later my ex-husband and I opened our marriage a couple of days after our anniversary.  And a year after that we were separated.  And a year after that we were divorced.  And this year, well.. it’s been a while.

It took a long long long time, but I finally accepted I’ll never really understand what happened with my ex-husband and me.  And it’s been a couple of years longer than that with the loss of my father and I accepted I’ll never fully understand that either.  Thinking about both of them isn’t the white hot poker of pain it once was.  I suppose my active mourning is over and I’ve moved on.  But some associations are so huge they’ll never be erased, and so.. August 10th.

For some reason this week I was thinking of the little things I miss about my ex-husband.  I’ll just say that I’ve been nostalgic and not bore you with a list.  I had this vivid memory though, a time I’d nearly forgotten.

He and I took a walk in our neighborhood.  We were just wandering around at night like I like to do.  I still do this sometimes, get driven out of my house in the dark to wander.  I’ve done it my whole life.  We were walking in salt lake Hawaii, a million years ago, some time in 2000.  We walked into a park and played on the swings and the slide and the jungle gym.  We crawled up into this kid’s play thing with the bridge and the rope net and laid on our backs looking at the sky and talking.  It was late and we were just talking and talking and talking.  We knew it was something like 2am, and we were both in the military and knew we had to get to work at 530am or so, but we just weren’t ready to stop talking or to head home.  I had this moment where I knew laying there with him that I’d love him forever.  He was talking about something with his job and telling me his reaction to things and it was about how he wanted to do good and how someone kept getting in the way of this task, and how small it made him feel, to struggle like that at work with someone.  He wasn’t thinking about what he was saying to me. He was just so unguarded.  He talked about his fear in the situation and I remember seeing him then as he must have been as a boy.  I saw right down into his marrow.  I loved every drop of goodness in him and I teared up with love for him, thanking the stars it was dark so I wouldn’t break the spell.

We ended up kissing and talking and petting each other until just before dawn.  And we made love on that jungle gym with wild abandon.  We forgot where we were and paid no attention to anything but each other, fucking long and hard and fast and slow, completely naked on a playground in a big empty park.  We kissed and kissed, sharing breath with each other, looked into each other, got lost in each other.  I could not breathe but I could not stop kissing him and I could not stop moving with him.  When we both came he was still hard for a long time, and I rode him again, slowly, with our eyes locked together.  He couldn’t come again that fast and I didn’t care about an orgasm for myself either.  We just wanted to keep the spell.  We stopped after a bit because it was getting light.  We dressed in the chill damp morning light, giggling at ourselves staying up all night talking and fucking in a park.  I didn’t shower for work that day.  I wanted to smell like him.  God that was a long time ago.  It was a whole other universe ago.  After the divorce I dug up the letter he wrote me that morning.  I had forgotten all about it.

In the letter he’d talked about the night we’d just had, and told me that he knew on the jungle gym, when we were talking and before the sexy stuff, that he would love me forever.  It was about the time I’d known that about him too.

And it’s true.  I think I’ll love him until the day I die, and not being with him and not having contact with him and being divorced from him doesn’t change that a whit.  I think we were right.  I know I’ll love him forever.  And I hope his new life makes him happy, and I hope he is surrounded by love and life and happiness.  I hope he lives a long long time and is always well loved.

There is a selfish part of me that hopes that someday he will remember me with fondness too.

But even if he doesn’t, I have to thank him from afar for all that we were.  I’ve said this a lot.  All relationships were meant to be.  They just weren’t all meant to be forever.  Maybe things ended because they needed to.  Maybe it was just our time.  As much as it hurt and as hard as it was, I think we are both okay.  I think maybe we are even both happy.  I probably would have stayed with him forever if I could have and I don’t honestly know that that would have been the right thing for us.  Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

I’ll just love him.

Resonate

For some strange reason my ex-husband has been on my mind a lot lately.  It hasn’t been an angsty thing.  For a little while now I have been able to look back with a more balanced view.  I remember all the good things and acknowledge the bad with less pain.  I would be friends with him if that were possible, because I miss some really great things about him as a human being, but I would never want to date him or any of that.  And I do of course remember the hurts, but without that fiery ember.  I’m not angry with him and I see it more clearly, the ways neither of us meant to hurt each other and the collision that was our end.

And maybe that’s why I’ve been thinking of him.  For a long time I made myself crazy going over things and then for a long time I tried not to think of him much at all.  But I can think back now.  I feel healthier.  I feel like I can see things more accurately.. all of the ways I contributed to things good and bad, and the ways he did too.  Neither one of us is a blameless victim of anything and neither one of us were evil.  We were both such fallible human beings.  Have you had a break-up?  Relate to this at all?

I have been thinking about the people that resonate with us.  My ex used to hate this, that I talk about people resonating.  I can’t help it. It interests me.  I wonder what the effect was on us of loving each other.  What did I leave there, after the healing, after the end, after all of our years, what’s he holding?  For a while I couldn’t see him accurately.  It hurt too much and I was angry.  I know it was like that for him too. I could not imagine he knew me so little.  It was crazy. But I was making him the angel and the demon in my mind when really he’s just a man.

Celebrating with my daughter and RollerGirl

I went out tonight with my oldest daughter (step-daughter) and RollerGirl.  It was the daughter’s birthday the day before and RollerGirl’s the day after.  If you’re new.. RollerGirl was the woman Hubby and I dated separately and together.  She’s the one Hubby said he was leaving me for.  More on that in a second.  I like RollerGirl though.  I always did.  So it’s not that weird to have fun in a hang-out situation with her.  Yeah.. it’s kinda weird that she and my daughter are close.  It felt like another betrayal at first, that Hubby would leave me for RollerGirl AND that my daughter would be angry at me for the divorce, AND that to add insult to injury my daughter wouldn’t really talk to me but she’d become close to RollerGirl.  I’d been there for most of my daughter’s life and RollerGirl was this woman she’d met a few times.  What the fuck?  Right or wrong, I felt really betrayed by Hubby and RollerGirl.  It turns out that RollerGirl talked to my daughter and tried to get her not to be angry at and blame me, that while I’d been hurt and upset at them talking it’d be a good thing in the long run for my daughter and me too.  It also turned out that she’d never planned to have this family with Hubby that he’d told me he was leaving me for.  He’d said it to me and the counselor to hurt me, I guess.  It was the cruelest thing he could say and he knew it.

Divorce Day

***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.***

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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.

 

A girl sits on a park bench in a fall scene, looking at the empty place next to her.

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.  

I'm Divorced

I’ve written maybe 7 rambling posts I’ll never post about this.  Today was my divorce.  It’s official.

I’m kinda more of a wreck than I thought I would be.  I knew I was going to be a wreck, but I’m just raw.  I’ve cried maybe 20 times today.  I balled in my car, open mouthed wracking sobs after it was final.  I cried in the shower and in my bed, and driving to and from the trial.  I cried laying on the floor and in my chair.  I just keep breaking down last night and today.  I guess it’s my final pound of flesh.

Quinky Girl came with me to the courthouse and was there.  Hubby didn’t show.  He said he was too upset and couldn’t make it.  Quinky Girl said that I just shouldn’t have to be in divorce court alone.  Thank God for that.  I broke down crying twice but it would have been way worse without her.  Chicago and Chicago Boy met us at West 5 and we had cocktails and lunch and I had a sundae.  It was nice to be loved.

The Spell Was Lifted

I just had the oddest experience.  I met my soon to be ex-husband to sign some last papers for our divorce.  He came and brought our little dog, and I got to pet the cute little man while Hubby signed.  Afterwards we briefly chatted and I asked after our pets.  He had not after-all brought his girlfriend with him to sign our papers (as he’d planned).  I like his girlfriend, who was our dog walker for years.  She’s a good person and I think they make a nice couple.  But, as nice as she is it’s a little annoying that he’d bring her to sign for our divorce.

Ambivilent

This one has really descriptive sex.. skip it if you’d rather not read that.  🙂  Thanks!

I filed my divorce papers yesterday.  After I filed I went to the nearest coffee shop, feeling like lead.  Ironically it’s the coffee shop where I met Traveler.  I sat where he stood way back then, just for a bit.  Traveler’s Wife, Quinky Girl, and I texted a bit and she said she’d meet me for a drink.  Cleveland and I had a date that night, but I took her up on it and met her at a local place.  By the time I got there I felt a lot better.  I keep vacillating.  It’s been months and months, so part of me is glad to have it wrapping up.  I’m relieved it’s finally resolving.  I’m excited about my new place and I feel like I’m finally really starting over, not just camping and sitting in shock. 

But I also feel phenomenally stupid.  I feel like a failure.  Useless.  Thrown away.  I don’t understand and I can’t understand.  I want there to be a neat reason for it and there just isn’t.  The entire time he has been lying and changing his story.

I don’t know what happened and the more I think about that the more I feel something tear.  Why was he so cruel?  How could he be with me all those years and think the things he thought and said about me?  Did he even believe them?  Was it just an excuse?  He said them to RollerGirl too later, when she became the bad Madonna and another girl the Whore.  He lied to her as much as he lied to me.  He’s lying to the dog walker too.  Lies lies lies.

Quinky Girl’s very presence was a balm.  I keep having to remember it doesn’t make sense because it doesn’t make sense.  And life is like that.  We talked about honesty and relationships before Traveler and Cleveland arrived.  When Traveler came she asked him to sit with me and give me snuggles because it’d been an eventful day.  I kissed her face for her generosity.  We had a good dinner and some laughs.  Cleveland arrived in time for happy hour tacos too.

Waiting for the Other Shoe

I had this good talk yesterday with an old friend.  Talking to her, I remembered again how things were, even 6 months ago, but also how some things had been for a long long time.  It’s funny the things you get used to and the things you’ll overlook or gloss over.  She was talking about how she’d been in a situation with a lover and she’d loved the good so much that she kept glossing over the bad, trying to forgive it, or see it as her being too critical or how she needed to be more understanding or more patient.  “He’s just going through so much”, “he’s tired”, “this is hard for him”.  It’s how both of us had been in a relationship that wasn’t right with somebody who had a ton of wonderful qualities, and a few really bad ones that made being with him toxic.

Things came to a head with Hubby, and he asked for a divorce, probably days or weeks before I could ask for one, about 6 months ago.  So I’m just slightly further on this particular path maybe than she is.  She’s still where I was very shortly ago.. wondering if her life is really going to be okay.  And I found it hard to explain, but I really think it finally will be. 

Letting go, even of something that isn’t right, is so fucking hard sometimes.  Sometimes we get so used to bad things that they’re comfortable.  I spent my 20’s undoing a lot of my tendency for that, but I have to admit there was obviously still a little bit of that there in me to have taken so long to get out of things with my husband and then so long to get over them (still working on that) and so long to see that I was better off without him.  This last bit is new.