Friday, May 30, 2008

What’d we learn today?

Since the chances of this being seen anytime soon, at least by anyone it might matter to, are somewhere between slim & none, why not go off on a bit of a tangent? Maybe it’ll turn into a rant, and maybe it’ll just be more stream-of-consciousness that no one but me will give a rat’s ass about (except perhaps when I’m dead). I rant on my blog on Myspace and it starts fucking drama (usually because of people offering their negative 2 cents worth, rather than just being supportive when I’m clearly just having a bad day and a hissy fit). If by some chance you’re here shortly after I post this, don’t post anything judgemental, moralizing or even “just an opinion” regarding MY life and MY decisions - and not expect me to come un-fucking-glued and attack you in whatever way I see fit.

I’ve lost my house, my marriage to a man I’ve been with for 14 years is over, I’m so physically fucked up I can’t earn a decent living right now, and I’m still having to deal with drama queens who mess with me and expect me NOT to lay a shitstorm at their feet. That I’m “a bit stressed” is the understatement of the year. At some moments, “homicidal” is an understatement! What, are we in fucking high school? Divorce is ugly, messy and an emotional rollercoaster even when all involved parties are mature adults… add in a few loose cannons who revel in the misfortune of others and lower themselves to the sort of antics teen girls engage in and it becomes downright disgusting. It’s interesting (and would be amusing if it weren’t so damned sad, really), but the people I’ve pissed off the most (excepting, of course, the husband I left) are those I’ve confronted with a demand that they prove what they claim as “truth.” Shit, I’ve stood by my words… even knowing they hurt some people… because to not do so would make me a liar and a fraud. People can call me a LOT of things (even some really bad things) and maybe hit upon a few that are true, but “liar” is certainly NOT one of them. I’ve told the truth to my own detriment more times than I can count, because lies never do anything but make a bad situation worse. The truth might put me in a bad light to others, but being dishonest would make me hate mySELF, and that’s so much more important than what other people think—especially those who’d like nothing better than to see me fail, and better still if I can suffer while I go down.

Today while chatting with a friend, we touched upon something I guess I hadn’t really thought too much about until now: my disappointment in there just being no “fight” in the man who claimed he wanted to be with me forever. He didn’t fight to keep me (striving for more, showing me the growth I wanted to see would’ve counted) when I was there and telling him what I wanted and expected; he chose flight over fight when I told him I wanted to separate, and just bailed with his few belongings as though he didn’t have 8 years worth of whatever in our house that needed to be wrapped up, too; hasn’t even mentioned in a fit of emotion maybe fighting the man he thinks I left him for (which I didn’t, but still… territorial issues and all… doesn’t every man just want to kick the ass of the “new guy” no matter what?) and at no time between my leaving and now has he even asked what, if anything, he might possibly do to “win” me back. Then again, it’s entirely possible that he’s just relieved; glad he doesn’t have my expectations to live up to… in which case his just walking away and giving up without any fight whatsoever makes perfect sense. If that’s how it is, I’m not sure how I feel… For starters, I guess it’d sorta piss me off, because it would seem he’s playing up his victim role for the benefit of others - he’s hurt by my leaving, but not so much as to care enough to even ASK whether there’s anything he might do to fix those things that I couldn’t live with? I may have been the one to leave, but that certainly doesn’t mean I’m immune to the heartbreak, or to feeling unwanted and a failure.

Fuck, if anything, I deserve to feel that way MORE than he does… I begged and begged for him to hear me and change things because I saw it going South, and everything I said fell upon deaf ears. It was only when I brought my conflicted feelings about another man (which wouldn’t even have arisen, had we reached some sort of compromise in our marriage before then) into the conversation that he finally realized just how serious the breach had become, and by then it was too late. I asked for a separation, he wanted (after being counseled by family & friends) a straight-up divorce; and I’m giving it to him. Since he’s made it clear that he’s the “same person” he was when I married him all those years ago, and will “never be any different,” I’d be a fool to even consider a reconciliation (an offer which, I’ll reiterate, is neither forthcoming from him, nor mine to put on the table). I left because I needed a mature, responsible man and he wasn’t making the cut - and now says I should never have expected him to ever grow up, really. What possible purpose would be served by signing on for more of the same? And from what I gather from his own comments, my having sex with someone else is what makes our differences officially irreconcilable to him. I’m pretty annoyed (and maybe even a little hurt) by that, I must say… but now I think to myself, “Are you so surprised? A man who’s not only content with, but rather proud of, saying that he’s no different today than he was at the age of 22, has shown himself (more than once) to be primarily concerned with the sexual aspects of his wife’s estrangement and their failing marriage. Go figure!” Then again, I may just be “full of myself,” as he claims I am; and in reality his pointed interest in whether or not I’ve had sex with someone new isn’t really about me at all, but about his feeling like he’s now officially free to go off and stick his poor, neglected (by me, all these past months) dick into the next redhead that strikes his fancy with a clear conscience. Git on wit’ your bad self then, boy… just keep your shit tightly wrapped, since whatever hole you’re sticking it into has likely been plowed by a fair number of other swaggering cocks (including some you know) during the past 14 years of your/my monogamy. Wouldn’t want you to get far more than you’ve bargained for!

Two men, same situation: Life in shambles, marriage over, family ripped apart. After consideration and the counsel of loved ones, each decides upon a course of action to repair what damage he can and begin a new, better way of life. One goes off to Jesus Camp, digs ditches, prays and returns a few months later drug-free and committed to doing whatever it takes to put what’s left of his family back together, make amends for what he can and make a better life than he could give his children before. The other guy’s solution is to move in with friends and seek his “healing” in a place where the last thing anyone’s interested in is their life as a responsible parent, acting like a grown-up, or in learning how to be better at anything truly useful (other than pretending to be someone else, which is useful for some people, I guess… like if they get paid for it). A place where it’s the height of success to have as few responsibilities as possible, as few obligations as possible, and as many drunken nights and sexual conquests as one can manage before their genitals explode or they contract HIV because they’re too stupid or just too fucking hammered to be responsible every time they have sex.

Having known them so long, and loving each of them, and (all things considered) in nearly equal measure, is it any wonder that a woman who has certain, somewhat traditional, expectations of what a man’s role in a relationship should be would see Bachelor #1 as more suitable, as more likely to at least come close to fulfilling some of those expectations? Bachelor #2’s behavior is prima facie evidence that he’s neither equipped for nor interested in being a provider, and in fact would seem to be quite happy living a life in which he’ll never be called upon to put aside childish things in order to fulfill the sorts of obligations so many other men see as their duty, and take pride in doing.

In the cold light of day, I suppose that little story is an illustration of what’s truly at the heart of the matter in the choice I made. It would have been nice to feel as though I, and my marriage, was worth fighting for… worth some hard work at a thankless job… to keep. But as time goes by, I just see more evidence that I/it wasn’t… not to him anyway. For years I fought (and worked) as hard as I could to make it successful, in the only way I knew how. Now, in the end, I see that what was worth so much to me for so long, wasn’t worth a moment’s fight or a moment’s hard labor (that is, maybe doing some less than pleasant things that might have healed the breach - marriage counseling comes to mind). And yeah, I’m still disappointed, often really fucking angry and always just plain SAD about that. His having waited to get some sort of okie-doke to get laid is no comfort in the face of the harsh reality that his marriage and the wife he claimed to “love more than anyone or anything” was less important than his own desire to flee the scene and “forget,” absolving himself of any responsibility because he’s been “crushed” by my leaving and is therefore justified in… no, virtually obligated to find comfort wherever and in whatever manner he can, in the interest of the all-important “moving on.” Well, that’s what his friends and family want him to do as quickly as possible anyway, so I guess it works out.

Eh, I suppose doing all that’s probably been far easier for him than it would have been to, y’know, like step up during our marriage or doing something equally as indicative of things meaning to him as much as he claims they mean/meant.

But what the fuck do I know? I’m just a woman, and a stupid one at that. Well, not so stupid anymore, I guess… since I’ve become so enlightened today on important matters that are no longer important to anyone but me.