End Of The Line

It Has Been A Tough Week

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 8 Comments

This has been a tough week. Okay…not all of it. The Ritz was not tough. The massages were not tough. Seeing my friend for dinner…not tough. But when I arrived home…MEGA TOUGH.

So when I got home B was his usual distant self, which starts my anxiety climbing. Then yesterday I get a call from Paul’s work. He has collapsed. So I have been at the hospital almost non-stop since as they concentrate on his heart and ordered every test in the book. Except for today when I went to B’s house and continued to help him paint.

You will recall over a month ago he wrote on our mirror I choose you and sent Vietnam girl and goodbye letter. Of course he has done this before and has had a four year virtual affair with her (except for when the met up in in Singapore)

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Then last week he told me he was just going to sell this house he was working on so he wouldn’t not have a place to go and just be tempted to quit our marriage. The next day he came home and we talked about this possible job that he was going after in Texas and he wanted me to come. I told him that I could not come unless:

  1. We got divorced in CA first as Texas laws were not favorable to me
  2. Or that we draw up a contract stating that we would follow CA law should we divorce.

The next day B told me that he decided to keep his house. He decided that he would because “I don’t trust him” as evidenced by above statements regarding a move to Texas.

Fine. I continued to help paint his house because I am a nice woman, knowing all along that he was planning to move into it when it was done despite insisting that he was not and he only wanted to be with me.

So today, after spending time with Paul at the hospital, I swung by B’s house and he asked if I could help paint as the new carpet and floors are being laid starting Monday. Sure I said and went and painted the master bath. I already had painted his laundry room, part of his hallway, a bedroom and part of the living room. I think that is darn nice, don’t you/

As I was about to leave to told B about a conversation Paul and I had and that Paul was worried that B would be moving into his house instead of staying put with us. I told him that he should talk to Paul about it and that if he was planning to move he should just say so and not hurt our kids by going back and forth while sending them mixed signals.

“You are moving there, right? I asked.

“Yes, I am. I think we need a separation.”

“That is so great. You are doing exactly what I needed you to do for the divorce. Thank you.” And I want over and have him a big kiss and hug.

“Oh and I don’t think we need a separation I think we need a divorce.”

He just stood there with his mouth hanging open as I walked happily out the door.

And I feel great and these last weeks I have bought myself time as I gathered papers for the divorce. AND in the state of CA since I threw him out previously, I could have been responsible for half of his living expenses but now that the house is his and he could move in…that possibility is no longer a burden.

And while sad, I also feel a little lighter. My heart doesn’t hurt.

Tonight we actually sat down and starting dividing assets and it felt good.

Of course, B wanted me to know he had decided to move into his house because I wanted everything my way.

“Can you give me an example of what you mean?”

“Yes, I told you we needed to combine our money and our assets and you wouldn’t.”

True. Never will again either. Don’t want the Vietnam woman to ever be able to get her hands on that.

“And just because I am taking a 5 day hiking trip you felt entitled to take a longer trip of your own.”

Oh, the trip to escort my daughter to her swim camp across the country and then go visit for 2 days with my 83 year old father who I haven’t seen in two years…. You are right…I am definitely unreasonable. GEEZ.

And that’s when I told him that I knew that this was the eventual outcome a long time ago after reading an article that said that there were four outcomes from affairs but the one that no one ever recovered from is when the person who had the affair continues to blame the innocent party for their dastardly deeds. So because at one point in our marriage I yelled he had to go out and have an affair. End of story. It is my fault and always will be in his mind. But I KNOW it isn’t all my fault and you know it is not too. Frankly that is all that matters.  And while I know the next couple of weeks will be tough I know they will never be s tough as living with a man who has lied and cheated on me almost every day for the psst four years and did his best to make me feel like shit about myself. And while he came close to succeeding…he did not. For I have survived and I have grown. I no longer yell and have gotten closer to my children. They of course have suffered and it has brought Andre’s autism out further into the open.

But now I am finally ready. Scared but strong. Weak but oh so brave. I gave it my best and lost the war anyway but gained myself. So bring it on world. I am here and waiting. And this time I FUCKING WELL MEAN IT.

 

 

Ch-ch-ch Changes

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 16 Comments

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We are in a restaurant discussing the fate of our marriage. The cards are on the table and the chips fall as they may. We spend the next hour talking about finances, what our lives would look like sans one another, and what this rupture would do to our innocent children.

He says: ” If we were to stay together there would be a lot of changes and I am not sure you would like them.”

“What changes might those be?” I ask.

“Well, I’ve never told you this before  but I am pro-life like they house I was raised in. I might want ours to be a pro-life household too. I would want our children to be raised this way.”

Whiplash has slapped me hard because I have shaken my head so violently trying to make this man come into focus again. You mean after 30 years of togetherness you felt like you couldn’t say something about this? WTH.

“And I want to be treated like the man of the house.”

Somewhere I hear the words obey mentioned.

I stare at this man I’ve saved and who has saved me numerous times over the past 30 years. He looks the same on the outside but obviously there is a lot changing on the inside. I’m not sure I like it. Actually, as a feminist I know I dislike it…a lot.

“What does this mean to you? Man of the house?” I ask… while I am thinking to myself…so you are finding your voice and now you want to roar. Roar out all the misunderstandings. Roar out all your “unheard” convictions. Roar out life as you imagine it should be while you figure out who you want to be. You want to be heard after feeling unheard all of your life. A hurt that started with your mother and one that you feel continued on with me.

My eyes stare back, unblinking, both locked into a battle of silent conviction.

“At the end of the day I want to know that my word is the final word.”

And in the end the only thing I can say is nothing. Because talking to this man before me is like talking to a stranger who speaks a different language, has different values, and wants different things than I do.  Things I never knew about. Things I never guessed. They are not the things that delight me. They are sharp and they sting the inside of my heart and of my head.

So I look down at my feet and stare at my crooked big toe observing how it leans to the left, as does my philosophy, and the tears start to glide silently down my face as my awareness of how deep this situation dwells in a land of which I know not; and it seeps from the very center of my pores.

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