Yesterday, I received an e-mail from the ass hat about divorce proceedings. He needed information from me in order to fill out the paperwork. For some reason, it totally enraged me. Which, I suppose, I shouldn’t be surprised by since any type of contact with him what-so-ever pretty much enrages me. I kind of hate how calm and “nice” he’s being about the whole thing. He’s so nonchalant about it all… like he’s going to pick up groceries or getting his hair cut. “And oh, on the way, you want me to start divorce proceedings?”
I seriously want to kick him in the face.
But as much as it frustrates me and puts me into homicidal rages, there’s also a big part of me that’s looking forward to it. I can’t wait to be done with this ass hat. To be able to cut all ties and be done with this chapter of my life and move on. (I wonder if I should plan a party in honor of it all…)
And yet, the more I plan my future, the more I realize just how dumb I was to be with this guy in the first place. If hindsight is 20/20, then apparently, I was blind, deaf, and mute when I got married. As I look back, I’m not sure how I even got here. I’m not sure why I married him in the first place. The little things that I would just shrug off before are now red, pulsating, pus filled pimples that should not have been overlooked.
This may sound horrible to say, but I mean every word of it: I never actually loved the guy. I know, I know. “How could you have been married for almost 6 years and not love the guy?!”
The entire time we were dating, I was trying to convince myself that I did love him, but I never actually did. You know when you “fall in love” and you feel those butterflies and get all giddy about seeing the person and you never want to spend a second apart from them and you are just crazy about them?
Yeah. That never happened. Ever.
I thought that was something the movies had made up. I felt ripped off. I felt gypped. Why didn’t I feel that way about the man I loved?!
I distinctly remember one time he said to me that he couldn’t imagine his life without me. And so, in turn, he asked the same question of me… could I imagine my life without him?
I hemmed and I hawed and I rationalized and finally responded with a, “No. No, I guess not. Yeah. No. I couldn’t.” But really in my mind I was screaming, “Uh, YEAH. Why wouldn’t I be able to imagine my life without you? That’s just silly.”
I would watch romantic comedies and wonder why I didn’t feel that way. Heck, if I got butterflies when Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey finally got together in the movies, why didn’t I get butterflies when I was around him?!
I was finally able to convince myself somewhere during the first year of marriage, that that just wasn’t how true love worked. Falling in love like that was one big myth concocted by the movie studios to sell tickets. Sure, it might happen to some people, but the real, true, lasting love happened when two good friends chose to be together. That was the solid foundation for a marriage. Not all this hearts and butterflies crap. That wasn’t even real. Not once did it seem strange to me that I had felt those same hearts and butterflies feelings with other people… just not him.
I was so stupid. Excuse me while I go bang my head against a wall…
One time, early on in the relationship, I had a single clear thought that consisted of, “I don’t really like him. I don’t see a future with him. He’s a great friend, but… I don’t want to date him.” When I told my mom about these feelings she told me that I needed to let him know that.
I. Was. Horrified. WHAT?! How could she say that?! Tell the guy that had had a crush on me for years, who had pursued me with such fervor, who showered me with flowers and gifts and sweet letters, who had already said those 3 magic words, that… I didn’t want to see him anymore?! I was literally crippled by the thought of hurting someone’s feelings. It didn’t matter what I was feeling… I just couldn’t hurt someone else’s feelings. So I shoved it down, down, down and never spoke of such things again. Except when I did try to tell him and he started to cry. That pretty much sealed the deal. I was gonna marry the guy so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings.
UGH… why couldn’t I have had some self-worth or self-confidence? What was wrong with me????
BUT, I made the choices I made and even though I may not have been in love with him when I married him, I grew to love him. And even though I wasn’t always so sure about my decision, I had made a vow before God that I was going to honor, come hell or high water. Clearly, the ass hat didn’t get the same message at the ceremony…
And now, here I am, 6 years later, wondering what the heck I was thinking. Wishing I could rewind and get a do-over. Wishing I had taken a chance on that adorable Mormon kid who thought I was so great.
Blech. Hindsight’s a jerk.