Soooo...done?

I was married once. It wasn't pretty. When I tell people my story the #1 question I get asked is, "Why the hell did you stay so long?" and I don't really have an answer for that.

We were happy once, maybe. I'm pretty sure. The longer I am away from him, the fuzzier my memories of that life become. Our first official married fight happened 2 days into our honeymoon. It was only the first of many, many more to come.

We struggled, we tried to work things out. We produced a gorgeous child and oddly enough, his birth didn't really help our troubled marriage. We struggled some more after The Boy's entrance into the world but I knew it would never last.

The last 2 years of the marriage were awful, but in an odd way. He snooped into my life and didn't like the things he found. He confronted me, almost daring me to admit to things I had only dreamed of doing. I stayed because I felt an obligation to my son. I didn't want to break up his world and I thought, "If I can just get past this episode of unpleasantness everything will be fine."

One day I woke up and realized that I had been thinking and/or saying that phrase for almost the entire marriage. "If we can just buy a house, we'll be fine"..."If we can just pay off those goddamn credit cards, we'll be fine"...If, if, if. My life was a continuous pattern of looking over the next hill to see if the landscape ever changed. It was almost like driving through Kansas. Field after field of broken promises, failed dreams, and hoping that things would get better on their own.

The day we split was interesting to say the least. By that point I was Done with a capital D. I was finished with the fighting. I wrote him a letter and then sat and looked out the window while he read it. He ranted, he raved, he paced, he sputtered. The final line in my letter was, "I don't care what we do, but I'm over it." He asked what that meant and I shrugged my shoulders. He asked if I wanted to split up, I said "I don't care." He asked if I wanted us to stay together, I said "I don't care." It was then that we looked at each other and he said, "So are we done?" and I said "I guess we are."

It was that moment, that critical and simple moment that changed everything. In my head I could hear a heavy book slam close. I felt a tremendous weight off my shoulders. I sat by while he went into this weird, autonomous mode. He stated that he felt I was getting ready to leave, so he had been doing some research. He started dividing up our possessions, inquiring into what I did and did not want. He discussed custody and how we would handle our mighty bills. He discussed child support and assured me he would NOT put me out in the cold. I was numb with relief, so I just nodded my head. So many details that later meant nothing. I sighed and said, "I'm hungry...want some Taco Bell?" I came home and he had taken off his wedding band. That, my friends, was that...

I have no desire to relive the months following the split, but I will summarize with this: things got ugly. I lost my home, I was prescribed Valium and Zoloft and I found solace in the arms of strangers. I wept as I said goodbye to his family. I knew that there would be no way to remain friendly with them, save one aunt who has stood by my side. We went to mediation to avoid court costs and he was shocked when child support was discussed. He became angry and changed before my eyes.

I had high hopes that he would become a better father with his limited time. I had high hopes that once all the details were ironed out, once everything was set in stone...that we would be able to move on. Instead he became angry. Whenever I look at him I hear Yoda in my head, "Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering"...only replace the word Fear with "Your goddamn responsibilities asshole!"

We call him, The Douchebag