Honeymooning with the Boston Red Sox

my ex husband and i had a storybook wedding...

we chose to marry in the fall of our intern year of residency, because the season and halloween was our favorite time of year (and it is to this day for me, at least he didn't ruin that on the way out).  we knew what kind of affair we wanted to have to celebrate the occasion:  something classic, elegant, and very 'us'. 

my ex husband was quite actually an eager participant in the planning from the very beginning, choosing song lyrics for programs and putting together our wedding favors (a cd compilation of 'our' songs).  we even re-wrote the entire civil ceremony, including our vows, so it was a true reflection of us and what we wanted for our marriage together.  there were tons of little details that were uniquely expressive of our very long relationship up to that point, and he was there participating every step of the way...

we took a full year to plan our wedding day, handcrafting each and every detail.  we created our own Trivial Pursuit cards for each table, with questions that highlighted our story for all our guests (it was a game we played a lot, especially with his family.  in fact, every one of his family gatherings was not complete without a long and heated game of Trivial Pursuit amongst family members, and Jxxxxx loved brandishing his smarts whenever he could.  and if he lost, it was always accompanied by a little temper tantrum and some snarky excuse for why someone else on his team brought him down.  he is the worst of sore losers.).  we carved tons and tons of pumpkins, for the tables and the bars and the mantles of The Buffalo Club where we were married.  we had a special first dance to Dean Martin's 'You're Nobody til Somebody Loves You'.  the entire day and evening were filled with magic and excitement, and neither of us demonstrated any doubt that we were embarking on a very long, and happy life together.  i remember those moments standing in front of everyone we knew, looking deep into his eyes, and feeling like if we could just capture this moment of earnestness and affection between us, we would be successful.  

the day was a huge success, our families and guests were so impressed with what we did, and i still hear about how beautiful the day was from people whenever i bump into them.  i should have known it was too good to be true, because the tone seemed to change immediately once it was over.  when the night ended, we walked next door to our suite at The Mansion, where he proposed to me, and i recall that he didn't even reach for my hand when i went to hold his.  it was odd and i know i recognized it, but i let it go to the back of my head, thinking that it had been a long day, we were both tired, and maybe i was just looking too hard at what was really nothing.  by the time we arrived up to our room, that barely noticeable quirk was hard to ignore, because all he wanted to do when we got back to the room was count the envelopes and go to sleep.  NOT go to bed so that we could consummate our marriage, but go to bed so that he could sleep.  i stood there in my wedding gown, my veil still attached to my head, and i wasn't sure what to think.  i had read somewhere that no wedding night sex is not uncommon amongst newlyweds, simply because of the stress of the day, but we weren't your average newlyweds...we had been conducting our life as a common law married couple for many years prior to our nuptials, the ceremony and party were just formalities, at least for me.  

as we prepared to leave the next morning for our honeymoon, my heart could not help but sink deeper and deeper, from my chest into my gut.  my 'new' husband was all sweetness, basking in the glow of being a newlywed to be sure, but the occasional touch of hands and a peck on the cheek was as far as our intimacy went.  there was no signal from him that he was at all interested in getting me into bed.  there was great interest, however, in the World Series that year, since his precious Boston Red Sox had finally beaten their century long curse by making it to the finals.  the days and nights of my honeymoon revolved around the viewing of Sports Center and catching innings of games.  we would be out walking, and he would be fixated on finding the latest score or standings.  i tried to be as understanding as i could, not wanting to ruin the week with whining or frowning on my part.  i was a new wife, so i softened my attitude and realized what a big deal it was for him.  i smiled and even feigned happiness for him as the Sox got closer and closer to their trophy.

on our first night of honeymooning, i was determined to make it impossible for him to ignore me.  as he settled into a chair near the tv, i slipped into the bathroom and into the silkiest and most suggestive of lingerie, made sure to spray his favorite perfume behind each ear and between my breasts, and back out to introduce him to his new Wife...when i slinked up next to him, he barely turned his head.  i was met with a quick glance and a smile, and a plea to let him finish watching the scores.  i kept my cool, and tried to maintain my mood, and settled back onto the bed to wait for him to take me.  

when my eyes opened three hours later, the room was dark, the television off, and my husband was sound asleep across the bed from me.  he never woke me.  he hadn't even pulled the covers up over me for the night. 

i hid my disappointment, shoved it waaay down deep, as we boarded the plane to return home to our 'new' life as Man & Wife without consummating my marriage to the Doc.  i unpacked the hundreds of dollars of lingerie i selected for him, and placed it gently back into the tissue paper, and shoved it to the back of a drawer.  i smiled for my family and for his as we went through picture after picture of us doing everything but actually making love.  i tried to nurse my self esteem, and tell myself that we were 'not your average couple', and that we would find our groove again.  i tried not to wonder why our nuptials prompted such a change in his motivations toward me sexually, for we had a very healthy sex life prior.

i woke up each morning, and i tried to squash the little voice in the back of my head that kept whispering to me that i had just made the biggest mistake of my life by trusting my heart to this boychild that stood next to me.  it was more than two months later that we finally consummated our marriage.  soon thereafter, my previously healthy husband, sexually vigorous and fun in bed, began to have problems prolonging his climax, and he stopped even trying to satisfy me at all...

post script.  when i embarked upon my divorce, upon hearing this story, my lawyers wanted to know if my husband could be gay...as metrosexual and obsessed with his appearance as he was, i had never once really considered it possible, mainly because we had never had a problem connecting sexually, and in fact knew how to satisfy each other rather well.  it can be quite disorienting when a stranger holds a mirror up to your life, and you suddenly see something in a totally different light.  the more i considered it, the more it seemed a credible theory, though it is one that warrants its very own post, and therefore, you'll have to wait to hear all about the emotionally closeted Doc...

socially accepted prostitution...

i gave You my heart, very purely and truly from the moment i committed to You way back in 1995. i never cheated on You, i loved You, adored You, lusted after You, made sure You knew it all the time...Your first blow was choosing to bring a girl home that summer night when i had to work, march her right past Your parents and up to Your room, so that You could 'listen to music'. You and i 'listened to music' all the time up in Your room, didn't we? 

i know that i should have walked then, but i didn't. and how was my love and adoration returned to me? You joined volleyball, and then began fucking around with a skank on Your team, so much so that i had to come out to see it for myself, and after four long island iced teas, You watched me drive myself home to lancaster from angola. what a gooood and caring boyfriend You were, Jxxxxx Kxxxxxx...

Jxxxxx, even if You didn't ever touch a single one of the handfuls of girls that You have associated with outside of our marriage, it was the ILLUSION OF IMPROPRIETY on Your part that crushed me. You failed. You failed to make me see or feel Your love. Your only demonstrations of love from the very beginning were monetary and material. do You recall that first christmas? You went way overboard, and You set the tone for the rest of our lives together. it taught me that well, if i couldn't have a real act of Your love, at least You would buy me something...You created a brat in me, the way Your parents and family made a brat out of You.

see? what i have never, ever heard from You is a truly genuine apology, one that reflects that You took me and my heart and You crushed them both from the very beginning, unprovoked. no one around You knows that...how You are an attention whore so badly that You will break commitments and vows and crush people who love You deeply, just so that You can get the fix You need from someone in the moment You need it. it happened again and again, and each time, You had a choice: You could have said no, i have made a commitment to someone; or, if You did not want to be with me, and You were unhappy and just wanted out, You again had a choice to buck up like a MAN and just tell me so that we could part and go be happy. instead, You let it drag out for fifteen years. 

do you know why i really asked for the open marriage? it was not just because Your limp dick became useless after only two minutes in the bedroom...it was because i wanted to know that You would fight for me, that i was worth THAT much to You. You don't believe this, i know, but if You had simply looked at me from across that dining room table that evening when we discussed it, and said, 'i love you, you're my wife, and there is no way i'm going to let you go be someone else's...i will do my part to make you happy.' it really would have been that simple -- all of our lives together -- all i needed to see was that i was cherished and loved above all else in Your life, like i was supposed to be. i would have never moved away when i did. and as for my final infidelities to You, they were absolutely retaliatory for Your treatment of me. i'm no whore...but i am human, and i deserved to be loved and touched and satisfied just like You. You reduced our marriage to prostitution -- every single time we tried to make love, You came in less than two minutes. DOZENS of times. it was as though You were pissed and resentful that You were 'footing the bill', and You felt like i owed You something. whether it was Your sentiment or not, it is exactly how it was perceived. i didn't emasculate You...You did it to Yourself. You have to be a man with a spine and a set of balls before someone can take it from You...You never grew up and got out of that sick bed, Kxxxxxx, and i was tired of waiting for You to come join me so we could enjoy our life as Man and Wife.

i guess i am starting to realize that You -- pathetic and childlike and spineless as You are -- were my first Dominant.  my self imposed inertia in our relationship was my tacit allowance of Your horrendous treatment of me for so many years, especially in the beginning, and long before i went seeking something like that out for myself...

Who wants to buy some rings?

FOR SALE:

1 groom's platinum band, size 9. scratched up and worn, but definitely worth a few hundred for smelting down.

1 bride's platinum & diamond engagement/wedding set, size 7.  barely worn, like new.  beautiful princess cut diamond (just under 1 carat) set into a vintage inspired band featuring more princess cut diamond chips.  

$2000.oo or Best Offer.

unique trades/propositions entertained.

Ah, there's no place like the City of Good Neighbors...

      

     so i have begun to hear from some of my friendly neighbors, and as expected, the sentiments are mostly critical and antagonistic:  i'm apparently a 'fatty hater' with 'no game'.  *nods*

     let me re-iterate something:  i'm not here doing this to get your support, readers.  i don't need any approval or commiseration, and i am not looking for your pity.  i'm here for two reasons:  

     1. to tell my side of the story, whether there is an audience for it or not (though i suspect that there is...which one of you have not had your heart broken by someone you trusted?  someone who perpetrated himself one way to everyone in your life, but behind closed doors was an utter cocksucker to deal with on a daily basis?)  we all have our stories, this is mine.  for once, i'm going to stand up and defend myself, because i'm tired of wearing the Big Bad Bitch badge for a boy who didn't even have the balls to walk away from me when he knew he wanted to, or at the very least should have.  every single person in our life quietly saw me (and still does, i'm sure), and me alone, as the reason that 'poor Jxxxxx' was so miserable all of the time.  i'm here to say that is total bullshit.  i have no doubt i caused that boy some grief, but i'm also certain he fully deserved it, especially when he spent so much of his energy making his own life miserable...and he also deserves to suffer the same humiliation i did all those years at the hands of him and his parents.  so while i may not be able to publicly 'out' his identity here, you've already shown me that you're as savvy at internet research as you are at pithy, flaming comments to complete strangers sharing their story with the world.

     2. to shine a light on why I allowed this.  if you do not care to read what is written here, i welcome you to move along.  perhaps there is a more fitting diversion for you elsewhere on the net (i happen to enjoy iheartchaos.com).  however, i will take a moment to pose the question again:  which one of you has not had your heart broken, for any reason?  yes, i'm nasty here, and of course i'm bitter, and i'm sure as hell angry...but i'm also real, and what i'm thinking, what i'm feeling, and the ways i search to make sense of losing everything in my only known world, is also very real.  and all these things that i'm feeling right now, all these things that are unfortunate parts of who i am right now, are not who i have been or who i will be.  i'm outing myself here just as much as i am him.  this is my way of holding myself accountable too, because when i read what i share here, when i choose to put it out there for you to survey and judge, i'm ashamed of myself.  i kid myself into thinking that i'm striving to become a good buddhist, but even buddhists suffer heartbreak and devastation from time to time too, and no amount of meditation or sweating on the yoga mat holding crazy asanas is going to change the anger or pain or vulnerability they feel.  i know this, because i've been trying ardently for a year now...

        we are all human.  i am, and so is the good doctor, and so are you.  when you choose to entrust your heart to another, and you begin to build your life and who you are around that fact, only to realize that his idea of marriage and your idea of marriage couldn't be more diametrically opposed, it sucks.  there is no other way to put it, really.  so it may be just another 'depressing' story to you, but to someone else, what i share here may reverberate with someone who has experienced the same hurt, maybe someone still trying to make sense of it.  if you are one of those readers, then i say, welcome, and i hope that you can find some solace in my mess of a story.
  

        if making myself vulnerable and opening up to the world proudly, for what is really the first time in my life helps just one person get through their day, i'm good.  i'll suffer the ill informed, often illiterate and myopic commentary of the peanut gallery...it ain't no thang.  but to those of you who may also be suffering this kind of hurt, you're not alone.  you can find your voice too...

post script.  so, City of Good Neighbors, i pose the question to you:  given the limited details supplied to you thus far (yet apparently sufficient enough for some of you to hastily pass judgement), how am i supposed to feel and handle this life changing experience?

post post script.  the new wife is not younger, and no where near being "trim".  and the Doc?  he's pretty crusty now himself... extremely balding, graying, sallow, and puffy.  definitely showing more than his share of years.  he wound up with her because she was the next most accessible thing, for that is his modus operandi:  he doesn't put himself out there for hot, young pieces of ass...he goes for convenience and a sure thing. and trust me, this chick is thanking her lucky stars she got a ring from someone, anyone.

Believe it or not...

I did not want us to divorce.

What I wanted was for my husband to show up, finally.  This was not simply about us being a poor match, this was about how You ran away each and every time it was time to roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty trying to make us strong.  I did my part, and then some…I did real work to understand who I was and how it led to my mistakes, and how I could use that knowledge to be better.  I wanted to have a child with You, I know how silly that sounds now, but I did.  I was just waiting for us to get ourselves strong enough and bonded enough again so that we could be awesome together for a tiny version of us.    But when it was Your turn, You felt above the process, as if nothing was wrong with You.  And we both know how wrong that is – and I never once believed that or said that to You with the sentiment that You were defective and bad.  I encouraged You to engage in the therapy process, because I understand how our life’s experiences add up to make us who we are, and without examining that, we cannot improve and be better.  You were either too afraid that You would find out You were not perfect and to blame for some things, or You did not love me enough to want to invest the energy.  Either way, when I found out You canceled those therapy appointments for Yourself, I knew and understood right then and there that You would never be the husband I so wanted in You.  Instead, You were aiming to live out our marriage the way Your parents live out theirs to this day, and that was not at all what I wanted.  Your new wife doesn’t see this yet, and when she does, I suspect it will be far too late for her…You’ll probably have kids, and her soul will be too dead to do anything about it.  You took a fat girl, with obviously deep seated issues, and You are going to conduct Yourself in exactly the same manner, because You don’t believe that You have ever done anything wrong.  Remember Your grandparents, Fxxxx and Cxxxxx?  How they couldn’t stand each other toward the end of their lives together as a couple?  That’s going to be You and Your new missus; I would bet every single dime I make for the rest of my life on that.  Oh, You’ll both be miserable, and You’ll wonder why You wasted Your life away, and You will pray for death just to make the misery end.

        In the end, You didn’t even feel I deserved closure.  You could not even talk to me civilly, to admit anything, to apologize, to explain what I failed at for You…I gave You fifteen years of my life, good or bad, Jxxxxx Kxxxxxx…I gave You my heart and my soul.  The minute residency began, You gave me nothing but the roof over my head, and the sundries I needed to survive daily.  You never offered Your love, Your affection, Your strength or encouragement.  There was never anything left for me, or You just didn’t choose to give of Yourself.  You are like my parents – You think that if You throw money at it, You won’t have to invest any real time or energy in anyone or anything.  The only thing You dump that kind of energy into is buying music, so that You can live vicariously through other peoples’ sentiments.  It’s a sad and pathetic thing, and yet, I still cry because I miss You…even now.

        You have hurt me deeply, and I am still trying to get over that, admittedly.  I am having a difficult time reconciling the years I gave to You with the fact that You have already moved on so quickly, no matter how stupid an act on Your part it obviously was.  And I don’t mean that in a sour grapes sort of way – I mean that You took almost zero time to process any of this…it means You dated her and carried on with her and built a new marriage on the quick for whatever reason as we were in the thick of our divorce. When did You do any reflection?  Any growing up?  Any attempts to be a MAN taking care of himself?  The answer is You did not, because You can’t.  You cannot live on Your own, You cannot take care of Yourself, and You will not ever be a real man.  I think that You realize this deep inside, and perhaps that is why You have had the problems You had with intimacy in the bedroom.  Your wife won’t ever understand, and she’ll never realize it, because let’s face it:  she’s just happy that anyone wants to see her naked and then get on top of her.

        Yes, my anger at her is not gone.  It won’t be for quite some time, and You should always remember this.  she deserves to hurt and suffer.  she stepped in the middle of something where she had NO business, and I am certain that she will get her due, beyond the punishment that she will one day realize is having You for a husband.  I may not ever have the joy of repaying her for how she caused me hurt, but karma is a different story.  You know what karma does to people who do not learn from their mistakes, right?  Karma will ALWAYS fuck with You…like the moment You look at that newborn when it pops out of her fat, greasy twat, and it is all fucked up and mongoloid.  or, maybe that precious 4 out of 6 matched kidney finally shrivels up, and You find Yourself hooked to a machine for hours each night (try being a loving husband or father then).  Or, maybe Your arrogance and bloated sense of self-esteem cause You to seriously hurt someone You’re caring for, and You lose Your reputation and Your job…

        You lied to me.  You took vows in front of everyone we knew, and You broke them.  You may have stuck it out and did Your duty to me by sheltering me and footing the bill, but You broke every single one of our vows to each other.  It’s why I think of You standing there taking vows with your fat new wife, and I laugh out loud.  I wonder if she thought for just a moment if she was making the right decision…I suspect that she didn’t, because chances are, she’s right where I was when I first met You.  She has not had the luxury of time to show her who You, and Your family, truly are.  Do You feel any guilt whatsoever, I wonder?  I mean, how do You snore so soundly at night?  How long before she becomes too wrapped up in achieving her own goals (like I did), before You go looking for attention from somebody else?  My guess is, it won’t be long.  And how long before she’s staring at You from across the couch because You’re snoring wide mouthed at 630 at night?  All of these things that I had to suffer were not because of me…they were WHO YOU WERE, and who You are has not changed.  It never will…

        You had the power to make this all different right up until the very end, and You didn’t.  I could only do so much by myself, before I realized that I was beating a dead horse for no good.  I wonder if You ever really saw how Steve treated me like his woman before I was even his…and what I mean is, did You notice how respectful, how concerned, how caring and protective, how nurturing and supportive he was to me all of the time?  With nothing to be gained from it in return…he was my friend.  He stepped in and showed me my worth, my beauty, my light, without any agenda or judgment.  He took the time to see me and understand me, and he continues to do so.  He has opened the world up to me, and he has made me believe that I can succeed at whatever I attempt in life because I have integrity and dedication.  He takes nothing from me, wants nothing from me, does not manipulate, is happy to push me out front so that the crowd can praise me…he wants nothing but to get to be the one who holds my hand and make me smile as we walk our path together every day, from here into the next realm so that we can do it all over again.  How does it feel, Dr. K, practice partner, to lose Your wife to a man with so much less than You, but who has so much more to give?  

        Even though I do not want it, there is a place yet in my heart where You are…it’s the part that has had me crying and missing You for so long now.  I want her to be quiet now, that little girl who is scared and alone inside of me.  I want her to know that I will never let her go, and that she is safe to go run and play, because I am going to protect her and always love her.  She may remember from time to time how she used to thrill at Your embrace or giggle insanely with You until tears burst from her eyes, but You are a friend I can no longer keep with me.  I am sad to say good bye to You, both the little girl and me, the adult, because we shared so much for so very long.  But, it is the past, and futures cannot be made if we still keep our feet planted in the past, and I intend to have one beautiful future, a kind of beauty that can never be found with someone like You.

I thank You for sitting down with me for lunch on the grass of that quad that day, Jxxxxx Kxxxxxx…

allow me to catch y'all up...

        for those of you readers who find yourselves still here, and who might be interested, allow me to sketch the big picture...perhaps it might make you decide to return to hear more of the story.  perhaps not, that's okay too.  my only objective here is to work out my shit...if He should happen to suffer some humiliation because of it, then so be it.

        i'm a pretty average gal...i'm smart, i'm ambitious, i'm bold (and sometimes stupidly so).  i like to believe that i am a good person who does good in this world, someone who is honest and who has integrity.  i'm the eldest of three, having grown up in western new york, in what we like to call the Polish Ghetto.  my parents are blue collar, hard working folk, who taught me likewise to work hard for what i want in this world.  i was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth by any means, but i am also wise enough to know that despite my parent's occasional financial struggle, i was a fortunate kid.  i went to catholic grammar schools, and then graduated top of my class from a private, catholic girls academy.  i was a popular kid and teenager, who worked hard at studying, was active in a ton of extra curriculars,  and taught dancing.  i was a leader, a bright and talented girl.

        my parents began telling me from a very early age that they chose my name because they thought it would look good emblazoned upon a door one day, with an M.D. after it.  studying medicine to become a doctor was not something that came inherently from within me, it was instead an aspiration that had been implanted in my brain from birth.  and, because good grades were a non negotiable expectation, it was natural for me to be pushed to excel in math and science.  everyone around me wanted it, and expected it, and so it was.  i didn't know that i had another choice, because in reality, i did not.  what i wanted, was to become an architect.  i spent countless hours holed up alone in my room sketching buildings and drawing out floor plans.  i rearranged furniture and 'redecorated' constantly.  my talents and my own personal joy have always come from design.  no one around me wanted to acknowledge or hear that.  i got a full scholarship to the college my parents expected me to attend, and because that institution didn't teach any drafting or design, medicine was to be my future.  it was settled.  no financial aid would be signed for me for any other institution, and since i still lived under my parents' thumb in their home, there was no discussing it further.

        my ex husband is a pretty average boy too...smart, ambitious, gifted at athletics, gentle, and well liked by almost everyone who knows him.  the eldest son of two children, he was born into a pretty comfortable and fortunate existence.  for instance, i met his housekeeper before i ever met his mother.  his father is a lawyer, his mother, a teacher by training who was able to stay home and raise her children from their birth until they were adults.  he was a popular product of suburban public schooling until we met on our first day of classes at the private catholic college we both attended.  when i met him, he was one month post kidney transplant.  he had found out that both his kidneys were dead while still in high school, and he was lucky enough to be very well matched to his mother, so she became his donor.  when i met him, he was barely out of the woods.  he was bloated from steroids and anti-rejection meds, and he was still having to be admitted from time to time for infections.  we were introduced by a mutual friend, a girl with whom i went to high school.  we happened to be on the same track, with the same class schedule and syllabus.  he was unlike anyone i had met at that point in my life.  i remember observing him, and thinking that he was not at all my type.  i like bad boys -- not douche bags -- but bad boys with good hearts.  there was nothing about my ex husband that thrilled me, there were no nerves around him, no girly heart fluttering...at first.  our friendship was inevitable, as i often collected school work for him from professors when he was too ill to be in class.

        when i met my ex husband, i was in the process of losing my first love, a profoundly good and healthy relationship for a couple of kids who inevitably were not meant to be.  falling for my husband was not expected, was not planned, and was more a surprise than anything.  he was a good guy, to be sure, and on some level, his 'normalness' intrigued me. he had the kind of life that i would watch on family sitcoms as a kid and long for, because my home life was a constant pressure cooker of anger and misdirected emotion.  his parents loved him and they let him know at every turn...people seemed to talk to him and about him with this hushed tone, as if just saying his name would make him pop like a bubble  into thin air.  now again, let me remind you:  the only thing extraordinary about this kid was the fact that he was struggling to recover from an organ transplant.  if i had walked past this guy on campus, or at the mall, or seen him in a bar, he would not have even registered on my radar.  he was just there, in front of me, every day.  and every day, i watched the people around him raise him up on this pedestal..."oh, how brave he is!"..."oh, how smart he is, and he isn't even able to make it to class."  and that was really nothing compared to how his family treated him...golden child of the family, much to the pouty chagrin of his little sister.

    fast forward eight years, we are engaged and graduating from the same medical school class.  psychiatry and child psychiatry for me, pediatrics for him. that fast forward is brimming with moments that were red flags to me, screaming at me to stop the roller coaster and exit the ride, but i heartily ignored them.  why wouldn't i?  i had just become a doctor, i was about to marry a doctor, and we were going to live happily ever after.  it wasn't only our own delusion, it was shared and fed by everyone around us.  no one ever noticed the times he had emotionally beat me into a self loathing lump of fat, questioning what must have been going on in my personal life to warrant such an unhealthy disposition.  no one ever spoke up when they watched him behaving overly affectionate and inappropriate with other women.  his own mother watched him waltz a girl up to his room one summer night when i had to work late (something i unfortunately had to do so i could pay for books and lab fees for school) and couldn't come hang out with him.  it was the first of his infidelities that i know about because he told me it happened.  let me repeat that: he told me it happened.

        at this point, if you're still reading, you might be chastising me by now, thinking me such a foolish girl for persisting in such an obviously disrespectful and ill fated relationship for another fifteen years, and you are totally fucking right to do so.  i'll take that judgement, because it is one i've passed upon myself a hundred times already.  i suppose that this is exactly why i'm conducting this exercise, spewing all of this crazy out onto the page.  i need to understand, even at a cellular level, why i allowed this.  this blog is not entirely dedicated to besmirching and condemning my ex husband, no.  i mean, he absolutely deserves it, because he fucked me out of my second, and chosen, career of architecture (literally - he fucked one of my classmates repeatedly, knowing that it would cause me to want to leave the program, and he was right), and he fucked his way into another doctor's home, just around the corner from the beautiful home we shared and were restoring, picking his life back up as if nothing happened.  humiliating?  you bet it is.  but it is okay...i think of all the misery he put me through, all the hurt he caused, all the nastiness and childish bullshit that i had to suffer unprovoked on a daily basis at his hand, and i KNOW that she too will get to enjoy the real Him, if she hasn't already.

        and what do i get?  well, i lost over 60 pounds...i became a devout yogi with a body i can make do things i never thought i would.  i get to run my own business in peace, and finally pursue the career goals that are important to me without his jealous bullshit.  i get to cuddle my adorable dog each night, the one we raised from a 6 week old puppy -- he gets to cuddle his homely new wife, who literally had to waddle through the hallways of the college we all attended together, and who still does.  i get to smile every two weeks, knowing how much it killed him to have to transfer that alimony payment to my account.  i get to be free of his narrow minded, oppressive parents and family.  i get to go to sleep at night knowing that my life is finally my own now, and i can do with it what i wish, while he stagnates in his job, wiping noses and cleaning up puke and shit.  i'm not going to be able to rest my head or heart until i feel like i got my side out, because for so damn long i was without a voice, and i'm tired of being the only villain.  

        keep reading folks, because it's going to get juicier, promise.

I never cheated on you...

I want You to know that from the beginning, up until that fateful weekend I went away, I NEVER cheated on You, with anyone.  No matter how I was tempted to do so out of retaliation because of how You repeatedly crushed me by lavishing Your affection on other women, I never acted upon it.  What changed my mind was Your obstinate selfishness when it came to our intimacy.  You had every power to take control of Your "issue", I tried to help You and be supportive with You many, many times.   

     But it was years…it was full months and years that went past us, wherein You would just take what You wanted, and then leave me to take care of myself as You sat there all pouty faced about it.  After dozens of times, how was I supposed to react?  How could I be expected to continue to coddle Your childish behaviors, when what I needed in bed was a man, MY man.

     Jxxxxx, it became systemic for me – after so long, after so many instances of infidelity on Your part (physical or emotional), after You neglected and refused me sexually on our honeymoon (as I sat in 100 dollars’ worth of lingerie purchased especially for the occasion), and after Your repeated childish antics in the bedroom, I felt as though I had nothing inside of myself that was worth loving, because my own husband and best friend didn’t seem to find anything worth loving in me.  I was never the priority with You when it came to intimacy – You may disagree, but Your actions spoke loudly.  For years, we could have afforded a new, more comfortable bed for us, a bed that was not Your childhood sick bed, so that I could sleep next to my husband, and it was never important enough for You, though You whined about it…

     By the end of our marriage, I had such little respect for You, because You persisted in behaving like a child, rather than meeting me as an adult ready to tackle our life.  I stopped investing in You, and I know You stopped investing in me.  You were a coward, and You still are.  You are afraid to take what You want and need, because You are afraid of disappointing Your parents.  Your present, new marriage included.  I assure You, no matter how much everyone says they are happy for You, for having finally found ‘the right one’, they also secretly are looking at You and feeling sorry for You.  You’re afraid of losing everyone’s adoration and praise.  It was always the thing You moaned about most loudly, especially when someone else was the center of attention.  I saw it flash in Your eyes the night my architecture professor told You that I had talent and could go far on my own merit.  I heard the reluctance in Your voice on the way home that night as it came up again…like You doubted it, or at least You didn’t want to admit it or agree with him.  What kind of partner is that?  How did that make You a supportive husband?  You know, it takes more than just paying the bills, right?  You took every single opportunity You had to cut me down, and when my own business that I began from scratch did not make millions from month one, it was not successful enough for You.  Your expectations were ridiculous, and in those moments, You have never resembled Your pathetic father more.  Because I used to watch how he treated Your mother…for years, I felt very sorry for her.  Even way back, when we were dating, I saw the warning signs in You, and yet I ignored them.  And yet again, I am left to question why?  Why??  You were no better than me, there was nothing special about You…You weren’t even my type.  But somehow, I drank the Kool-Aid everyone else around You had been sipping, and I believed that You were someone I wanted to be near.

        For fifteen years, You convinced me that I was a horrible person.  My self-esteem was so low, I could not hold my head up and look people in the eye.  My therapist noted it immediately – that my affect was like that of a battered woman who was afraid to speak to anyone.  It shocked me to hear her tell me this, but then I slowly began to realize she was correct.  You never hit me, but You struck me hundreds of times with Your thoughtless actions and Your lack of support.  I believed I had no worth, that I was a stupid, miserable, cynical, cold hearted bitch who would never find happiness or peace.  Your family’s treatment of me reinforced this – I know they were always civil to me on the surface, but I knew otherwise.  And why did I know otherwise?  Because my beloved husband would tell me how his family felt about me:  the dumb pollack bitch that was ruining their son’s life.  You know what I say to that?  What a fucking CROCK.

     I got my distance from You, and You know what I found?  I am a blissfully good and warm hearted girl, and I’m smart and funny as fuck…I make others smile and giggle, and I go out of my way to help people around me, even strangers.  I have found that I can and achieve whatever I set out to do, no matter what it is.  I work hard, I have talent, and I have many, many skills.  I think it’s the one quality in me that You were always quietly jealous of – I can do ANYTHING I set out to do, and do it with at least some success.  I take risks, and I put myself into foreign situations that can be scary, that I might fail at, and I face them head on.  You do no such thing.  You never have, and the minute You are asked to or have to, You crumble…because Your ego cannot stand the possibility that You might not succeed, and someone else might.  It’s another narcissist trait of Yours, and that one single handedly killed us, I want You to know that.

     By the way, have you pitched a nice tantrum yet for the new wife?  I can't wait for her to enjoy all those dirty, nasty little idiosyncrasies of Yours...

a bucket full of sorry...

I wish I could say I was sorry to You, and in a way that You would understand that it comes with nothing but love and gratitude from deep within my heart.  My deepest regret is that I will not get to look You in the eye again and communicate to You what my heart needs to tell Yours.  After so many years, so long and so hard, but also full of so many beautiful moments we shared.  I am still not able to reconcile the fact that we went from two people who shared so much vulnerability and closeness to total strangers in a matter of a day.  That is what hurts me most, even now after all that has transpired and all the time that has passed.  I always missed You, even though You always seemed to be right there.  Somewhere along the line, we stopped connecting.  There were so many reasons for this, I know…but did we not owe some grace towards one another as it all ended?  After all that we had endured together, bittersweet good and plenty of bad…You were the one I gave my heart to in a way I had to no one else in my life, and I committed to You with every hope and desire that You and I would grow old together enjoying life and exploring the world.

I look back at all that time we shared, and I feel as though I was the only one who fought for us, who wanted us to be strong and bonded and harmonious.  I tried my damnedest to make myself healthy and better for myself and for You.  I wanted and expected the same kind of commitment from You, but it never seemed to be on Your agenda.  I wanted You to understand me, and I You, and I wanted so badly for us to succeed, despite our flaws and limitations as individuals and as a couple.  But I was alone, and I felt it most of the time.  You made me feel different and less than You, and that made me resent You, and finally despise You.  I was Your wife, Your woman…I wanted You to own that, and respect it, and protect me.  I wanted to know and feel that You had my back, and sadly, I never really felt as though You did.  I will forever be grateful to You for how You took care of me and us by bearing the brunt of our financial life after I decided to leave medicine.  You gave me shelter when I truly needed it, allowing me the time and space I needed to heal myself and get my head right.  I will never forget that, or how gentle and caring You were for me during that time.  

But I also cannot forget all the times You hurt me, in what seemed like very inconsiderate and deliberate ways.  I never felt secure in Your love for me, and that was not something borne out of poor self-esteem on my part – it should have been Your responsibility to make sure I knew and felt how You loved me, so that I could feel secure in it and in us.  Countless times, You made me doubt that and question Your fidelity to me, from as early as our first year of dating.  You watched my weight soar and my sense of self-worth plummet, as a direct result of Your behavior and lack of integrity, and You did nothing to make it right.  If You never wanted me, why did You persist in your relationship with me?  I distinctly remember sitting at home literally sick waiting for Your return from the transplant games in Columbus, so You could decide whether You wanted to continue to be with me.  Why?  Why did I allow You that power over me?  Why did I not love myself more in those moments, and declare right then that You did not deserve me?  What exactly made You worth more than me?  I gave You the option yet again when You screwed around with Your gross anatomy partner and with old college girls and You chose to persist.  Was it because maybe somewhere down deep inside, You enjoyed that power You wielded over me?  The moment I couldn’t lavish You with attention, or someone more preferable came along to give it to You, You happily drank it up…I began to see in You such a narcissist, and how Your entire life was designed to support that aspect of You.   

I understand now why I allowed myself to fall for You, why I stayed with You, and why I manipulated the demise of our marriage.  I accept that I have serious issues with abandonment, with attachment, and with trust.  I know exactly what events in my childhood added up to make me this me.  I continue to work hard on bettering myself in therapy, so that I do not repeat my mistakes.   I have to live with my decisions for the rest of my days, and while I try not to live with regret, I do find myself regretting that I could not be more honest with myself and with You and everyone else so much earlier.  But would it have made a difference?  The people around me who love me tell me that there were two people in this marriage, and that two people made it end, but I cannot help but feel guilty for ever hurting You…because what I keep remembering over and over again lately is how sweet we were before we lost it all.  And then, I remind myself that even though there was sweet, at the very same time, there was obvious condescension on Your part to me, and passive aggressiveness, and competition.  I remember how You would belittle and make jokes at my expense as if it were nothing in front of my family and my friends…how You would pick fights, or go out of Your way to demonstrate that You were right about this or that…how You would not stand up for me when Your father disgraced me and hurt me deeply…how watching the baseball game came before making love to Your new wife on our honeymoon…

If given the choice, I would not choose to be back with You, Jxxxxx Kxxxxxx.  But, if given another choice, I would choose to do it over again with You.  I know how utterly insane and repellant You might find that notion, but I know that we both know now what we did wrong.  We’re older, and we are most definitely wiser.  We were young and we were very naïve when we began, and I think we both thought that we knew more than we did about life and love and what it took to make them work.  Some of my life’s best moments have been with You, I gave You my heart for a very long time before I had to take it back for myself.  I know I was not what You thought You would be getting…I most certainly was not who Your parents wanted for You, and I think that was part of the allure for You in the beginning.  Then, I think once it got real, You couldn’t figure out how to own it and appropriately handle it.   I always felt that You were shameful of me…with Your family, with Your friends from school, with Your work peers.  We would be out, and run into someone You knew, and You would completely ignore me, neglect to introduce me or even acknowledge me.  Do You understand how deeply hurtful that was for me?  To live with that on a daily basis, ground me down to nothing.  And the whole time, I yearned for my old friend, I missed laughing with You and listening to music, cutting class to find a place to fuck.  When did that part of us die?  Because it was well before we got married…

you know i'm just a little souvenir

click to hear

One of these days you know
You'll cry for me for sure
For those little eyes you have seen so many times I swear you will cry
And one of these days you'll see
the long head that belongs to me
Oh young boy don't shed no tears
You know i'm just a little souvenir

And so, All that fascination, all that fascinattion baby
All that fascination, all that, all ..

Cold eyes green and blue
Baby I remember you
As sweet as your kiss can be
You know my heart belongs to me
And yes I know that you're longing for
A dream, un petit trésor
But one of these days you'll learn
That no one can be your own

All that fascination, all that fascinattion baby
All that fascination, all that, all ..

Oh I will run a million miles

I will run away from you and I
I will run away from all this pain
You know all this hate

All that fascination, all that fascinattion baby
All that fascination, all that,
You got to, you got to give it up now
You got to, you got to...

All this passion will fade away this time
All this passion will fade away one time
All this passion will fade away this time...

DISCLAIMER

this is a blog bound to be brimming with anger, hurt, bitterness, revenge, hypocrisy, and short-sightedness.

but you will also find clarity and hope here.  you will observe an evolution of heart, and perhaps of mind.

this is where my ego will find therapy...and my heart, healing.  this is where you will find truth, because nothing has ever been more important to me than letting my own truth(s) be known.

at times, you will pity me.  at others, you may delight in the craziness of my private emotional hysteria.  but maybe you will find a moment of resonance here, amidst my rantings and my ravings.  maybe you will see yourself, or someone you know (or knew)...maybe my words will be familiar to your lips, my heartache too.

i cannot use anyone's real name except my own, and i suppose no other obvious details that would give anyone's identity blatantly away.  however, this is the age of ultimate omnipotence, if you know your way around the interwebs.  and, i will be utterly frank:  NOTHING would please me more than for everyone to be able to virtually look Him up, if just to laugh and shake your head (His humiliation would be so delicious, i would eat it with a knife and fork).  so while i cannot give anything away, i will certainly NOT hide my own truthful details, where i see fit to share them here, hell no...

finally, before i embark upon the madness that these virtual pages will surely contain, i want my readers to understand that i fully acknowledge my own flaws, my faulty programming, my bad decisions, my awful behaviors, and my caustic words.  i own it all, all of me.  i take responsibility for my role in the 'process' every step of the way, and i do not seek to shuffle blame off onto everyone else around me.  my hands are dirty, and so is my soul.  scattered between my rage, you will see my self-reproach and my regret.

this is the post crash analysis, where i will spread out all the pieces, identify and categorize them, and make determinations about how it all went down.  where did it go wrong?  who was to blame?  what could have been done to avoid this disaster?  why did it happen in the first place?  the people around me, and even most of you, probably think me insane and sad for thinking that this will give me some peace.  i know you're all right...but i have to know for myself.

so join me on the journey.  reach out to me if you must, to tell me i'm nuts or to tell me that you've been there.  but know that i will not, cannot, avoid this, and i will be here until i've flipped it around and examined it from every side, every nook and cranny.  why?  because i gave You over fifteen years of me -- my heart, my adoration, my spark, my body, my head, my talents, my determination, my soul...every part of me bore Your name, and now that You're gone and doing it all over again to another poor soul, i'm left wondering what part of me was ever mine?  and what drove me to give You permission to take that much control?

no, it is high time MY truth be heard, and you'll find it here...

so, Shirley, give my greetings to the new brunette *wink wink, Doc*