Where I have been is where I am

Being a grown-up about getting dumped isn't working for me. Moral superiority, sobriety, and being respectable (whatever that means) suck. Maturity is still a goal. I haven't abandoned it entirely. Each little twist and turn brings me more humility and less pride. The supply of resilience is pretty dog-gone low.

I live very close to where I grew up -- within three blocks. My house is nearly the same floor plan as the house where I grew up. Sometimes I wonder if I never grew up. Maybe that's why I married the man who always said, "No." No adventure, no fun, no spending. Feeling guilty and working was very important. (See Nathaniel Hawthorne for more details.) If he said, "No" to everything, it remained a dream, and I remained the same. Sometimes I wonder why I let his veto stop me.


Last night it poured buckets of rain and this morning was very damp and misty, but I was stir crazy . Since I'm here, in the same place I never left, and I went exploring by my old high school.
The bridge has Indian and buffalo motifs to match the high school, and the work crews have spent a considerable amount of effort repairing it. Construction probably won't be finished when school begins, but it should be closer. The art work looks so different from a few feet away than it does from a car moving at 30 mph. These old relics are historical landmarks, and they are made from local materials that are specific to Wichita.


The Ex was part of the reason I was anxious and wanting to roam around the neighborhood. He visited this afternoon. The visit had been arranged one week in advance. He had some books to bring me, and he preferred to meet in public. That isn't so unusual except that we don't usually meet in public. We meet at my house. We first arranged the visit via instant messenger. He wrote this : "I have some of your notebooks." I responded: "You have my journals?" He must have sensed that I was highly aggravated by this because the display said, "The Ex is typing" for a very long time. When he finally responded, the message said, "It is school notebooks. I closed them as soon as I saw your handwriting." My confidence that he will tell me the truth is dropping.


My Ex moved into his parent's basement. I know that cannot be pleasant because his mother has superior guilt-trip skills. I also know what she thinks about his behavior because she wrote me a letter to say she hoped we would get together and save our marriage. She liked having me for a daughter. Also, she is concerned for his soul. I knew there would be no peace for him in his childhood home. I was okay with that.


When deciding where things began to go badly in my marriage has been difficult. It is like unravelling a sweater. It never really stops until the entire garment is gone. Ex has been involved with another woman although he denies it. This other woman and I have the same employer. I can go months without seeing her, but she walked by my desk last week and had an hour-long meeting at a table near my desk. It was excruciating. Thank goodness my iPod was in my purse to drown our her voice. Make believe can be a good place to go at times like this. A very understanding co-worker named her: Home Wrecking Cunt. He recommends calling her HWC for short or Hot Water Closet.


Here's how the marriage unravels:

11 years ago we were married
10 years ago he met her in grad school
8ish years ago they started an online publication together
6 years ago my mother and grandmother thought I should be concerned about the way she looked at him
2 years ago I expressed my concern and was told that I should feel more secure about myself
1 year ago Ex's best friend started saying that I would get a divorce because Ex and Hot Water Closet were having an affair
5 months ago Ex moved out
4 months ago he said they weren't dating -- they were just hanging out a lot
2 months ago we got divorced


Today he came by to bring the books and told me that he'd moved into her basement. They are roommates. Only roommates. Whatever. I feel so bitter and stupid and used. My bullshit meter is off the charts. For an added bonus, he told me that Atticus, the cat, really likes her house and really likes her. I just hate this wondering if we were ever in love, if anything was ever good about our marriage, and if I imagined it all in my head. At least he told me in person. It would have been much worse to hear it from someone else.


Thank goodness Ms. Naplover knew about the errand and knew that I had really bad vibes about why Ex was visiting. She told me to come visit after he left. I got TLC, knitting, and talking and calmed down. Her daughter is cheery and happy and excited about starting school this week. It's hard not to feel blessed with friends like that. It will get better. I believe it will get better. It's already so much better than I feared it would be.