Done:
– All of the knots are untied.
– Divorce filing forms are copied, awaiting practice run.
Currently in motion:
– The house.
– Getting copy of marriage certificate.
Next steps:
– Practice run of paperwork.
– Typing up paperwork.
– Meeting with her for signatures.
So, she and I ended up yelling at each other about the dog, over IM. This took place Thursday night.
(11:10:58 PM) Me: So, what’s up with [the dog]? Jody mentions offhand that you are making noises about taking him back, and then David is asking me about buddy living there with him, permanent-like?
(11:10:59 PM) Her: (Autoreply) not with a whisper, but with a bang.
(11:13:22 PM) Her: I was going to ask you the same thing.
(11:13:32 PM) Her: mom can’t take him to her new place
(11:13:37 PM) Her: I can’t take him at my current place.
(11:13:40 PM) Her: my sister can’t take him
(11:14:02 PM) Her: smalley said he could take him temporarily.
(11:14:11 PM) Her: at least until I find someplace for him
(11:16:55 PM) Her: are you able/willing to take him?
(11:17:04 PM) Her: ’cause I was under the impression that was a strong no.
(11:17:10 PM) Her: which is why mom has him now.
(11:18:13 PM) Me: You didn’t bother asking. I had no idea that she couldn’t take him. No one told me shit.
(11:21:44 PM) Her: So, you wanna take him?
(11:23:29 PM) Me: I don’t know that I can.
(11:23:34 PM) Her: why not?
(11:23:36 PM) Me: I may be able to in the near future, though.
(11:23:51 PM) Me: Because it’s a 3rd floor apartment.
(11:23:58 PM) Her: so?
(11:24:12 PM) Me: You get yes or no from me, you don’t get reasons from me.
(11:24:34 PM) Her: way to take the child route.
(11:24:45 PM) Me: I could say the same about you.
(11:25:22 PM) Her: seriously? because I’m asking for an explanation, I’m a child?
(11:25:38 PM) Me: No.
(11:26:05 PM) Her: because I didn’t call you about buddy, and relied on what my mother told me about you being unwilling to take him?
(11:26:22 PM) Her: or is asking for explanation about why I’m a child too much too?
(11:26:41 PM) Me: Have you cleaned out the fridge? Removed your things from the house? Filed?
(11:28:56 PM) Her: it’s very convenient for you to be able to put the blame for all that shit on me. all you’ve had to do was sit back and watch me not do the shit, ’cause I’m fucking good at avoiding things (which I learned ohsowell from you). it’s awesome to me that you can ignore me when you want, and attack me when you want, and you get the fucking moral high ground all the time.
(11:29:24 PM) Me: You said you would do these things.
(11:29:36 PM) Me: That’s the only reason I blame you for not doing them.
(11:29:53 PM) Me: I have no need to attack you. I just want you out of my life.
(11:30:18 PM) Her: and I only wanted you to love me for who I was, and not who you thought I should be.
(11:30:26 PM) Her: guess that makes us even.
(11:30:32 PM) Her has left the conversation.
Jody doesn’t want to have the conversation until after the first of the year. Okay, I can deal with that. I can respect that it’s still messing her head up, because, honestly, so’s mine. But, I need to heal. And to heal, I need to move on. So, I can’t stop moving on, even though I’ve hit this roadblock.
When there are no children involved, a Michigan divorce has a 60-day waiting period. This means that I can start the ball rolling now. Trase has clued me in to a couple of books that include all of the forms that I’ll need to use. With most of my money tagged for catching up on bills and for gifts, I think I’ll ask her to borrow her copy, if she’s still got it.
By the time anybody gets served with anything, all of the knots will be untied.
I am healing. I know who I am, now. I am a good person. I am sad, and I am mourning. I am moving on.
I am a good person.
This unlocks so many doors.
Jody has the dog. I dropped him off last night. I’ve explained my reasons so many times in person, and some of them in here, and I honestly don’t want to hash over them again. Some think that I’m making a grave mistake by being alone in my apartment, and I can respect that opinion. I do not agree with it, and I think that this is the best option for me and for him.
It still tore me up to leave him there.
I’ve been an emotional wreck for the last few days anyway *shakes fist at Pay it Forward*, so this added to it.
Every day, I am surprised at how strange and how difficult it is to adjust to being on my own again. To being a sole unit, instead of a part of a duo. I also realize another bad habit that I’d adopted so that I could survive as her husband, and I pick at it and pick at it, and then let it be. It will fall away, eventually, if it’s not needed any more.
I’ve been spending a lot of time around kids, lately. I’ve found myself reminding them to shut the door, or pick up what they left sitting around, or whatever. I’ve also found myself doing the “ohmygoddon’tdie” panic when they have fallen off of a couch or smashed into each other, or whatever. Typical paternal concern.
Me.
The fact that I’ve even got it in me surprises the hell out of me. Being comfortable around kids? Me? Being concerned for their welfare? Is this some long-forgotten piece of me from when my biggest dream in life was to be a grandfather? Is this some sort of panicky grab for closeness now that the immensity of the ALONE is bearing down on me in full force? Why, then, has it come upon me gradually, as I’ve slowly spent time with these children?
You know, it doesn’t matter. I will spend my time how I enjoy spending it. If it’s starting tickle-fights with my friends’ children, then that’s how it will be.
I feel like a coward. There are those that I need to, want to, ask to untie their knots, but I find myself looking for the “best time.” Or I avoid doing it while they’re at work, because they don’t deserve having their faith in she and I destroyed in front of co-workers.
I feel like I’m avoiding it. I feel like I’m being a coward again, when these are the obvious next steps to moving forward. Being back in the city will make it easier, but nothing is going to make this easy. It shouldn’t be easy. It was designed not to be easy, so that the marriage could not end lightly.
That’s why the knots were put there in the first place.
I want to move on from this. I want to heal. I want not to be broken.
*sigh* I have been avoiding writing posts for this blog, I think.
I did not want to live in California. I do not want that. It didn’t take me long, once I was out there, to figure it out. I woke up from what felt like a years-long sleep, and knew that I wanted to come back to Michigan. And so, I’m back.
And I’m going back to the city that I built my life in. I’m going back to the city in which she and her family live. I’m not going back to my old job, so I won’t have daily interaction, but I am going back there. Because I want to live there. I want to write there. I want to be there.
So I’m going to. I have a job. I have a better job than when I left. I’m trying to find an apartment. And I’m moving on from the marriage. From the relationship. I’m stripping away layers of self-programming that were needed to live with her, and to be with her. I’m breaking down walls that I’ve set up to protect myself. And once again, my friends are helping me out.
I now know that I would not go back to her, if she asked. I’m done.
For six months, I was convinced that she and I would not work out as a couple. I was adamant that we would remain only friends. Eventually, I said that she had the qualities of the person I’d always said I wanted to be with long term, and compared to the women I’d been chasing, she did. So I decided to try and date her, to see how things went. Somewhere between that October 31, and the next one, when I proposed, I decided that I loved her. I don’t know that I ever fell in love with her, and I am beginning to suspect that I convinced myself I was in love with her, so that I would be safe from the crazy of what I’d been chasing.
Safe from the crazy. You heard me right.
The love wasn’t any less real for its beginnings. It was true, and the loss of its return is still painful. But to go back to her would make me miserable, and I’m no longer willing to accept that.
There were a lot of steps taken to get here, and so this may not be as coherent as I’d like. After some serious prodding, I’ve decided to resume posting here, and maybe after more posts come out of my brainmeats, this entry will make more sense. As always, feel free to comment.
The car is in her name. Our phone plans are separated. Over half of my stuff is packed and ready to be put into storage.
She has flaked out on taking my stuff to California behind me, so I have found a cheaper and more reliable way. She wanted me to either pay for her return ticket (on a trip not only meant to bring out my stuff, but to visit with the friend that she is in love with… the love that started all of this) or to give her a definite “deadline” on when I would have an apartment. From my point of view these requests were entirely unreasonable, especially so late. So, like I said, I found a better way. Rely on the professionals, right?
Now, she’s started to make noises about the dog, and so I’ve been looking more seriously at finding him a permanent home. I’m still divided on the matter, at least while sober. For now, Lauren has agreed to take care of him, and find him a place if/when she (the soon-to-be-ex) moves out of the house before I find an apartment. Today, she did what I feel was a 180, and claimed that he was her dog, too. She said that she would take care of him as long as she was still living at the house. The lifestyle she’s chosen is purposefully irresponsible. How can I trust her to take care of the dog?
At the same time, I feel selfish for not knowing if I want the dog with me in California. Yeah, where I’m going is very dog friendly, but it would be nice not to be breathing dog hair. It would be nice not to have to worry about feeding him, getting him his shots, worrying about having to be home. This is my selfish side coming out, combined with a bit of bitterness – the idea of getting a pet was entirely hers. Then again, so was buying the house.
I’m amazing myself at the amount of baggage I’ve got to take with me. But I’m trying to sever it. I’m trying to leave it behind and look forward to all of the awesomeness that awaits me on the west coast.
Five out of seven knots on my side are untied. Apparently, two on her side are waiting for me, and then she’s got one left.
I’m trying.