random thoughts and thoroughbred selections

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Open Letter

I have a friend whose divorce is being finalized today. Although she's certainly not the only person with whom I have my thoughts today (Damn Fel, can we start getting better now?), I can certainly relate to what's going on in her world pretty strongly.

The worst day of my life was alone in our house, in our bed, knowing full well she was with someone else and not coming home. Somewhere in the top ten worst days of my life you'll find the day I signed the decree.

I remember sitting patiently in the courtroom with my attorney, watching snap judgments being made from the bench in cases of child support evasion and, like me, divorce. I couldn't help but think that families are created for a reason, and what the hell kind of world are we in that our legal system is needed to step in to the middle of all these situations?

She wasn't there. She wasn't going to be either. Shortly after coming back from England to an empty house I had her served with the papers. That was actually one of the few times I got to be the one twisting the knife. My attorney had tried, rather unsuccessfully, to get the papers into her hands a number of times, so when I caught her out at lunch with her grandmother right across the street from my attorney's office, I called him up and had him serve her the papers along with her gyro and fries.

She bawled and called and screamed that I was a fuck for "bringing her grandmother into it."

She fled back to England shortly thereafter. So she wasn't in court, but her lawyer was. It was my third trip in, and my third attempt to get a default judgment passed in my favor. It was her first time having representation there on her behalf.

Same judge, not the same results. He demanded we take the discussion outside for 30 minutes and put something agreeable in front of him he could sign. He wanted us off his docket.

I wanted her out of my life.

She wasn't fighting the divorce at this point. I'm sure the steady diet of whatever she was getting spoon-fed by her new British boyfriend was satiating enough. She was doing her damndest, however, to absolve herself of any responsibility so far as our debt was concerned.

It was in my name alone, but it was our debt.

Our lawyers weren't getting anywhere on their own, so her attorney called her up and put her on the phone with me. It only took five minutes of frustration for me to realize that putting that woman in charge of paying a bill with my name on it was not a good idea. I took nearly every last penny of the debt just to be rid of her.

And the judge signed the decree. And my lawyer said, without irony, "Congratulations."

And I held it together pretty well until I got to my car.

Then, I started sobbing. I instinctually picked up my cell phone and mashed out the familiar number.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." We both said it, and it was enough for that moment. It wasn't the apology for the destruction of our marriage I was looking for, but for right then it was enough.

And it was the last time I ever heard her voice.

It's days like this one that stick out sharply in my mind. Even when there's an obvious outcome to a situation like the one in which I was mired, there's something, well, final about the individual and symbolic moments that mark the trail along the way. But even in the finality of those moments, there really is no simplicity of emotion.

Closure, as a concept, is always going to be a long ways off.

So, kiddo, know that I'm thinking about you today... I know our circumstances are quite different, but the morass of emotions in which you'll be mired today is somewhere I've been before myself. Get drunk. Hang with a friend, watch a bad movie, eat some deep fried cheese. Be depressed. Wallow. Whatever you need. Make it the worst day of your life if you have to.

But remember why you're doing this in the first place, and know that there are plenty of us who have done it before.

Don't regret.

[>>]posted at 7:36 PM by BG - click to email
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