Tuesday, December 11, 2012

What Do You Mean I Don't Have to Blow Anyone Before I Leave the House?

I've been thinking a lot about my life. It's sort of strange because you would think that in such a transitional period, I would have endless things to write about. Mostly though, I try not to be a huge fucking downer so I don't really enjoy writing about my failed marriage. I realize that makes it sound like I'm all depressed and shit, but mostly I'm really not.

The first few months of my separation were that ambiguous "maybe we will work it out" period. Eventually, though, I realized that I'm not the type to end a relationship that has any possibility of being worked out. I had to come to the harsh reality that my marriage was not going to be salvaged.

You would expect that it was the big changes that made it hard at first. Moving. Uprooting my entire life and separating myself from a person I had been attached to for 8 years. That, though, was the easy part. After being under someone's thumb for that long, being able to break away and do what I wanted to do was like gasping my first breath of air after being under the water for just a little too long. That's right, motherfuckers. I got metaphors up in this bitch.

I found the little things were the hardest to get used to. Even after months of being apart, I would still find myself inclined to call him and ask him to help with something, or for his opinion on another thing. We got to a point, though, where we kept cycling through the same fights over and over again, and about 2 months ago, we both threw in the towel. We haven't had the official "divorce" conversation yet, but we know it's coming. I finally feel like I won't be blindsiding him when it happens.

The weight and the pressure and the stress has lightened considerably since I really, truly gave up on saving my marriage. I don't feel weird when he drops Caitlyn off and leaves without so much as asking how everything is with us. I don't try to push him to take some of the responsibility off of me by doing some of the picking up on days when he doesn't have to be in work until the afternoon. I don't wonder if he's fucking someone else already. I simply exist in my world with Caitlyn and I've finally begun the process of moving on.

Nadine had her annual Christmas party over this past weekend, and it really sunk in how much more peaceful my life is now. The thing is, Rodolfo always hated her. Not for any real reason (besides his declaration during the process of our break up that she was my "puppetmaster"). It was a decision he made primarily because of his own insecurities, the same reason he had problems with anyone I was close to. Because if I loved THEM, how could I save all my love for him? Anyway. I digress.

My point is that the Christmas party was always a point of contention. It was a fight every single year. It would start a few weeks before the party. There would be an argument about whether or not I was taking Caitlyn with me, because Rodolfo certainly did not plan to come but he also did not feel he should be expected to "babysit" so I could go have fun with my friends. I was a mother now. Mothers were not entitled to fun. If I said no, I would get treated like I was abandoning her at a fire station. If I said yes, I would get lectured about keeping her out too late. After that he would remain silent about it until a day or two before the party. That is when the real fighting would start.

I would be making some sort of treat for the party and I'd get reminded that I should be making things for my husband (who, by the way, refused to eat anything I ever made) instead. I would get half a dozen reminders about the "curfew" he had set for me for the night. I would get lectured about drinking too much. The night of the party would come and I'd be getting ready and he would pick a fight. Every. Single. Time. I would have one foot out the door and he would demand sex. I would get threatened that I should expect to come home to a VERY hostile environment because how dare I not blow him 5 minutes before I leave.

I would show up frustrated, annoyed, and utterly spiteful. I would get hammered and hit on my guy friends just because. I would spend the night alternating between being absolutely out-of-control and obsessively looking at the clock, trying to stick to his rules so I didn't get in trouble when I got home. It was never truly enjoyable because all the joy was deliberately and maliciously sucked out of it by my awful marriage.

This year was different. There were no arguments or explanations or spite. I made plans with my babysitter a few weeks in advance to have her keep Caitlyn overnight. I spent the early part of the day of the party making treats. I showered and applied make-up and got dressed and no one asked me blatantly accusatory questions about why I wanted to look nice. I left my house without drama or stress or aggravation. I dropped off Caitlyn and arrived at the party a short time later feeling happy and energized and genuinely looking forward to it. The time passed quickly, though I didn't realize it because I wasn't obsessing about the time. I chatted with friends and drank freely and eventually passed out when I'd had enough. I woke up when I wasn't tired anymore and I went to pick up Caitlyn and the only question I got asked was "did you have fun at your party?". It was beautiful. Such a simple thing, an evening with my good friends, and yet, I hadn't been able to enjoy it in such a long time.

I think every relationship has it's share of (for lack of a better word) "drama". Fights over nothing and stress and bullshit. But for me, freeing myself from my marriage ... it's as if all the unnecessary stress in my life has suddenly evaporated. It's pretty fucking nice, actually.


Nadine Nell said...

As your puppetmaster, I demand future approval of all blog posts mentioning me, my party and how I am portrayed by the blogosphere.

Gia said...

I'm glad you had a nice, peaceful time at Nadine's! Good for you!

Janene said...

It's funny how your memory twigs at stuff like this. And y'know what - this is a sign that you're on the other side, the good side, the side to being back to the Jaclyn that your friends love and adore. Because when you regain your sparkle in your eye and the spring in your step, you realize that anything is possible, and you'll never, ever, ever let anyone tie you down again.

Keep going. You're doing great!