The Wife

Ah, the wife.  She’s not really the wife anymore, but for the purposes of this blog, she’s stuck with it.

So much went wrong with us.  Marriage sucks in many ways.  No two people happy and hopeful ever set out to fail.  Too much to write about to even begin to scratch the surface of this one.  Now, nearly two years out, details still emerge today that give me new ways to look at old things:

Notice the part where I referenced a doctor who pointed out to me what the real problem was?  Well, here’s the ‘more to the story’ about this guy that touches on part of our marital issues:

This doctor sat me down in his office and told me two very profound things: One, he had recently attended a funeral where he was speaking to the widow, an elderly man.  The elderly man explained to him that for the past two years, when his wife was ill, he tended to her and changed her soiled clothes every single day.  So, the doctor asked this man, “Why did you do this for her?  You could’ve had help, put her in a home, etc.”  The elderly man replied, “Because she was the kind of woman who deserved it.”  As I listened intently, the doctor then turned to me and said, “You, sir, don’t have that woman.”

He looked at me again and said the second very profound thing: “You should get yourself a whore.”  Microphone drop.

This was A LOT to digest.  He also told me that, if/when I do decide to divorce, my kids will adjust.  They, of course, were my primary concern, but he was right about that too.

After the dust cleared, which was a long and painful clearing, I realize now that the wife’s not a bad person and we both tried our best.  In fact, trying to be somewhat objective about these things, she’s super cool, beautiful, maybe the total package for someone else, oh, and a tortured soul, too:

After our separation in 2015 we didn’t speak to each other for about half a year.  Then, one day, well over a year ago, we caught up and told each other everything.  We discussed possibly getting back together, to do it for the kids (and my wallet).  It was not in the cards, however.  My attraction to her was gone; like a door being sealed and never to be opened again, my feelings never returned.  A friendship came instead.  We even sat next to each other in the divorce, thick as thieves.  It was the best of the possible bad outcomes.

Unlike other friends of mine who are divorced, she and I even tell each other about our dating stories, trying to pick up the pieces of ourselves and find new directions.  It’s a bit taboo but we’re just the types of people to push the envelope on what’s acceptable or not anyway.  She’s found herself a couple of boyfriends along the way, highlighted by a psycho who hacked her phone and wanted to send me a personal farewell on his way out the door:

“You have a beautiful family bro.”  I was growing impatient waiting for him to just tell me my wife had a beautiful vagina; glad he brought the family into it, too.

She also had a more recent break up with a guy who looked like Howdy Doody on steroids who’s now moving next door to me:

I’m cool with all this: She’s more relationship minded; she’s a chick.  The longest “thing” I had with anyone after our separation was three months.  I just can’t relate.

And in between these romances she shares her fun with me:

And her pain:

(Psssst, her pain my gain!)

And this text; emblematic of where we stand currently in the late summer of 2017:

I’ll focus on that last statement of mine in the next blog.  It represents a paradigm shift that I’ve recently had that’s worth talking about before getting into any of the dating stories.

by

I’m a divorced dude living and dating in New Jersey. This blog is my story told through a first-person view of my text messages to my friends and/about my dates.