My marriage could have been the spokesperson for bipolar disorder. Occasional highs and sleepless nights, punctuated by tears, flying objects and black days. Our relationship lifecycle went something like this: a few months of dating, fifteen years of marriage (somehow), quickie divorce, second engagement, monster fight, then limbo after he got back from Iraq in January. I wasn’t sure what our current status was, but didn’t necessarily want to ask, so there we were in a holding pattern, with this giant purple polka-dotted elephant standing between us.
He told me this weekend that we would always be incompatible, so we should stop prolonging this, move on with our lives and look for happiness elsewhere. Freshly rejected and strangely relieved, I discovered it’s one thing to be over someone – entirely different when they are over you. After the discussion, he bought me a microwave* then we went to dinner and a movie, The Break-up. Yeah, isn't it ironic?
*some sort of odd Bostonian traditional parting gift that says "thanks for playing"?
Being alone doesn't bother me - I've had my whole life to practice - but somehow I imagined him as my security blanket, waiting in the wings for us to grow old and travel together after he improved his personality a little. Apparently, he had a different Plan B.
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15 comments:
A microwave?!?!? WTF?
wow makes me think I need to not think that way about my ex.... course the occasional sex makes it hard....
Indigo...you need to find a nice married man on the internet, who likes cats, and knows all your dirty little secrets, and still likes you.
I'll look around and see if I can find one for you.
Oh MAN, Indi...
I am glad to know that you are processing this, and that you got the traditional "I'm sorry that I am not good enough for you" Microwave.
I, however, am sad and stunned that he did not try for the rest of his natural life to make you gloriously happy...regardless of his own happiness. (His own happiness is immaterial to me.)
P.S.
I have been wanting to tell you for a long time that my dad used to feel the warmth of the TV when he came home to make sure my mother was not watching that heathen show "M.A.S.H.". They did not have keystroke tracking programs back then...so, so glad. ;)
Marcie: I'm leaning towards Plan D, adopting a few more kittens.
HA: mine broke a week earlier - guess he didn't want me to go into microwave popcorn withdrawls.
Mayor: pantiless, wearing a kilt??
Leah: I hear 'ya!
Jock: surely you jest - how could *I* have any dirty little secrets?
Terri: Haha...you're serious about MASH? That's too funny!! (and I should have held out for the dishwasher, huh?)
I'm sorry you are going through this mess.
I second what the mayor said, but make sure you don't leave out the ass showing scene.
Looks like Jock's having a party, maybe that'd cheer you up a tad.
I agree with the others in saying that he's probably not the guy for you. The last thing you need is a relationship modeled after bipolar disorder! Trust me on that one!
So that's why you've been in a bad mood. I'll give you my 2cents worth but I'll warn you it's not the popular opinion. I believe he still cares for your needs; he bought you something you could use rather than a one-way ticket to hell telling you to use it immediately. You did spend 15 years together. I wonder if he isn't having some sort of mid-life stuff going on. That's all I can tell from the outside. As a fellow Leo, might I suggest taking charge and showing him what he wants?...with the trademark Leo charm of course. Probably been there. I'm horrible at this; I'll quit now. Cheer up, you got a microwave.
I think it was your expectation that he was willing to "improve his personality a little" that might have been in the way. Obviously he expected you to change as well... never a good plan.
It seems you can at least communicate better than before.
And, on another note... at least you got $50 and your picture on the wall for your hole-in-one. I haven't got anything (yet.)
His not being willing to change in order to become compatible with you is not a reflection on your worth.
You are worth dozens of him...
a hot, young, tan, muscle bound dozen...mmmm...well oiled...mmm...oiled...*blink* um...
Yeah..so...uh...I...uh..
*crap* I forgot my point.
I like Kat's point!
Isn't it funny how we are ok with things when we think that we are over them, but hold on in our hearts that they will not be over us, and when we find out that they are, how much it seems to matter? (When it shouldn't) I hope that makes sense. I'm trying to say, I agree with you, it hurts being rejected, even if the person rejecting you is not who you love.
At least you got a lovely parting gift... thank you for playing. lol I had a boyfriend that would give a girl a silver necklace when he was breaking up with her. (I had known him a long time, and knew his M.O.) When I got mine, I knew what was going on. It was a silver bell with a pearl for a clapper. He said he was putting a bell on the Cat.... somehow I don't think he meant that in a nice way. LOL
So, you've gone European on the leg hair huh? Gonna take pictures? OH, and you do know that french braids under the arms are THE thing this year in Greece... gotta keep up with those European trends ya know. lol BIG HUGS, Steph
I don't have much to add to this...everyone else seems to have covered it well...I just wanted to add that I totally understand your blog and have been there. It seems your prepared for that, but when it is spoken out loud by the other, you know made concrete, it seems so flipping finale. Unless it was an extremly abusive situation, it always seems to be a shock nomatter how much you prepare for it.
Sorry to say this, but you made two errors of judgement (1) You thought he would change; they don't. (2) You view him as your security blanket; invalid assumption.
Trust me, I'm a man with two adult daughters. I know men and I'm speaking to you as I would to those two young women who are as important to me as life itself.
Too many women have this skewed, fairytale view (have you seen Bridezillas?) of what marriage and life ought to be. My wife and daughters hold a similar view. I don't understand this view. Too many romance novels? Life with a man is not what most women think it will be, with varius exceptions, of course. It is, generally, what it is.
Once he has made the conquest, once he's had you, once you're thoroughly committed to him, the power in the relationship shifts. When he is in courting pursuit, women have the power because women choose. Once a women has immersed herself in him, the power of her original optionality (does she keep him or jettison him?)is gone.
It comes down to this: He's got to love you. He's got to be in love with you; not your body, not your mind, not your stuff, not that cute walk of yours in a skimpy summer dress--YOU!
I am now 55 years old. I met my wife when we were seventeen. I loved her within a month. I married her six years later when we both finished college. We had children. We raised them. Thirty-eight years from the Haloween night in 1968 when I met her, I love her infinitely. And I cannot imagine life without her.
I see lots of women on Oprah shows talking about relationships, their difficulty, their trials, etc., etc., etc.
I don't get. If you love one another--and I mean really, truly, till-the-end at the final, fleeting, flickering moments of life love one another, than all relationship problems can be overcome. Because love between two committed people transcends the daily idiosyncracies of personality.
It's true. I know. I'm a man.
Wow. Anonymous needs to be cloned and distributed somewhere in Alabama.
That was well-put, Anonymous Man.
Hang in there, Indie. As someone who spent 16 years of her life believing she was married to the Perfect Man, then spent another 2 years being devastated that the Perfect Man didn't want me, I realized that I was mistaken all along. He was my warm-up to the Perfect Man, and he taught me that perhaps I needed to alter myself in the oh-so-tiniest of ways so that I was finally the Perfect Woman.
THAT'S when I met the Perfect Man. I know it's a long way around, but you'll get there. I promise.
Hmmmm
I'm not sure if I should say sorry or what...how about I split the difference and just say Margerita anyone?
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