Saturday, December 23, 2006

Victory and False Bottoms, Part Deux

I was actually excited to get this down today, as it was a great day in many ways. And then, of course, the bottom fell out. I've landed on my feet, so I am going to write it down.

I filed for divorce yesterday. It will be final on March 26, 2007. Mark your calendars and buy a ticket to Vegas. It will be a blowout.

The story:

I woke up very early and was sort of buzzing about the house. To paraphrase a cheesy movie, once you realize what you want, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. I ended up running a bunch of errands and getting into the office around noon. The plan was to do a little legal research, then hit the courthouse.

My research led me to a site that actually lets you file for divorce online. Holy shit, the internets rule. It seemed so easy -- you fill out the docs online, they file them in a different county (one that doesn't require a court appearance -- and they take care of everything). Thing is, I already had signed papers and wasn't going to wait for B to sign fresh docs. Although it seemed to be so easy, I decided to just forge ahead and go to the courthouse. I then downloaded some information that strongly cautioned against filing in a different county, so everything felt right. I made five copies of the petition and headed out.

Random: when folks in my office leave for any amount of time, we are encouraged to fill out certain information on this little pad of paper at the front desk. Initials, time out, time expected back, destination, etc. I filled it out and put, as the destination: "the future."

I skipped out of the office and was genuinely feeling excitement. The courthouse is just blocks from my office, so I was there in minutes. I got up to the window and said, in my most courteous voice, "I would like a dissolution please." The gal laughed and I showed her my docs. As it turned out, I needed to fill out a couple of additional forms, so I handed her my credit card and started filling them out. The gal scrunched up her face and informed me that they didn't take cards, just checks and cash, and that there was an ATM on the first floor.

I don't do checks -- at all -- but have a box at my desk. And the filing fee was $250 -- ATMs only give you $200 at a time. I felt the wind going out of my sails, as I needed to walk back to the office and grab my checkbook (or walk the six blocks to my bank for cash). It was sort of deflating, but I was resigned and left the courthouse.

I was probably two feet outside the door when I remembered something. I had a single check in my wallet -- a blank check on B's personal account. I stopped dead in my tracks and thought about it for a few seconds. Would I ever need that check? Should I keep it and just go get my own? No - it seemed too perfect. I turned right around, headed back up to the clerk's office and gave B the pleasure of paying for our divorce. Awesome -- truly awesome. The clerk told me I could schedule a hearing anytime after 90 days to finalize it and I asked her if I could schedule said hearing right then. She seemed a little surprised and said "sure, if you're ready - just set it for 90 days out." I did, and March 26, 2007 is the magic date.

As I left the courthouse, I texted AB with the subject line "FILED" and almost floated back to the office. I felt giddy, relieved and hopeful. I haven't felt that good in so very long. I got back to the office and was wrapped in arms of support -- it truly took me by surprise. It never ceases to amaze me where you find sources of support and friendship*. When I drove home, I heard that song "I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone" was on the radio and I blasted it and laughed and cried. It was all good.

I picked up the dog, went for a walk and was ready to celebrate with friends. I got a celebratory phone call from J, who knew I was filing today. Then the bottom fell out. She informed me that B was en route to his mother's house with the girlfriend in tow.

It was devastating. I just spoke with his mother two days ago and she seemed truly wrecked when I mentioned the girlfriend. Either it was an act, or B hadn't told her who was coming home to dinner. In any event, he is clearly into this chick and very much past our relationship. That was quite a blow. It took the wind out of me. Hell, it took everything out of me. I can't even write about it without sobbing. I don't really know why, as I am truly all about moving on. I just can't believe he would do something like that -- he doesn't even know I filed and is bringing another woman to his mother's house for Christmas? What kind of a person does that? Seriously, I know we're done and all that, and rationally, I shouldn't care, but holy hell? Who fucking does that? Especially when you're calling your wife almost daily for advice, guidance, assistance and all that?

I had myself a good, old-fashioned sobfest (I really need to answer my phone during these, as I know good friends were really worried about me) and allowed myself to feel the pain. It was so shocking to go from this giddy euphoria to absolute darkness, but I think I have emerged. I know I will have reverberations over the next few days, but I'll be okay. I'll make it. It won't be easy, but I'll make it. It is hard to know your partner of so many years is that cruel and unfeeling, but that is what it is. Even typing that, I sob. Pain sucks, but what are you going to do? I can't change the situation, I can only react to it in a constructive manner. I'm trying.

Tomorrow, I am renting a storage unit and moving out the last of B's things. I will bill it to his credit card and send him the key. That is a constructive act. I will pack my shit and go up to my parents' house and maintain the best I can. I will remember that I can weather anything and that I have great friends and family who want to help in any way they can and I will take them up on that. I will remember that no one has died from a broken heart (aside from folks like my biodad, whose hearts gave out too soon) and that one day, I will look back on this and congratulate myself on having moved on. I will survive this. This too, shall pass.

I will be okay. I know that I will. I have a broken heart, but my character and integrity is intact. I will make it. Bring on the next false bottom.

* I received the present of a lifetime today. I don't think I can give it justice here, but some person I have never actually met sent me an inukshuk, with the explanation that it is to be used as a beacon for where you are going and a reminder of your friends. When I opened it, I was all WTF mate, but once I googled it and read the note, I was moved beyond belief. Say what you want about the internets, but I have made some amazing friendships from them.


IGTF said...


Also - don't forget to get your tickets changed so you can get here in time to officially put foot to 2006's ass with us.

Anonymous said...

"Also - don't forget to get your tickets changed so you can get here in time to officially put foot to 2006's ass with us."

What's this!? You are supposed to be kicking 2006 to the curb with us!

Love you. B is slime. You're way too good for him, and his new girlfriend looks like a man.