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After many years of life and after listening to friends who have gone through divorce, you'd think I would have understood it.  But I guess the part that I understood or thought I understood and thought was the hardest part was the actual separating.  That part where two people decide that it's not working--or one person decides and then the other goes along with the idea, either happily or kicking and screaming or with a shrug.  Actually, there is no shrugging in leaving.  There are tears and feelings of loss and betrayal and excitement and guilt and sadness and remorse and unworthiness and glee and joy and misery and exuberance and fear and hatred and love and longing.  But no shrugging.

Then there is the part where you continue to stay apart and learn how to live alone again.  I've had friends call me during this dark night of the soul, the hard times at night, alone in the marriage queen-sized bed.  That's a whole matinee's worth of tales--you can hear the opening film credits, the sad music playing as we see the sad persona alone.  But then the music changes, gets happier, more lively as the person learns to live again.  But I think I got that part, too.  The leaving and then the figuring out.

Here is the one story about divorce that always worried me, even when I was married.  A Friend and her husband broke up, and he left her in the house, along with the mortgage payments.  Written up into the settlement was the item that she would buy him out of the house when their youngest daughter graduated from high school.  Meanwhile, this said former husband went on the make a huge pile of money, buying a huge house, taking his daughters off on vacations to Fiji and other tropical climes, and my friend lived in the little house by the freeway quite happily, but clearly not high on the hog.

I was so worried for her that he's make her live up to that part of the settlement.  How could he?  How would he?  the stress continued.  And then, finally, I heard that he never said a thing.  Never asked for half the money for the house, which, by now had shot up in Bay Area prices.  She made it!

Okay, that's an after story.  That's an after the leaving and the getting used to leaving.  That's a divorce story kind of in the The First Wives' Club vein that I needed to hear more about.  I thought that novel and movie were made up!  I thought they were fiction.

Where was I living?  Under a rock?

The deal is this.  Money and pensions and artwork and china and college funds and money relatives lent during the marriage all come into play  It gets ugly--who pays for what.  How much does a marriage cost?  Do you really own half of things I created in the marriage?  Do I really own half of everything that's yours?  How much do I owe for loving you?  For leaving you?  For wanting to kill you!

Here's the thing.  No matter what happened in the marriage at the end, in the beginning and probably for a long time, there was this person you loved.  Or really liked enough to get married and have a couple of children.  Here's this person who will know you in a way that really no other person can know you.  If you married young as I did, here's this man who watched me grow up--and I had a lot of growing to do.  We stood by each other through parts of our lives that weren't so great.  We were broke together,finally bought houses together, loved each other and our children.  I will always know him, even though I will likely not see him much for the rest of my life.  His jokes, his mannerisms, his smells, his voice, his words--they are all in me.  What he said to me over the course of 23 years and who he is is imprinted on my heart and mind.  No matter the before leaving and after leaving, he is likely the most important man in my life, regardless of everything else.

And now we are fighting about money and old debts and house insurance and senior year photos.  We email to each other with the gloves off.  We can't even begin to talk on the phone.  And we've already signed the papers!

I probably should go to the library and look for a n After Divorce for Dummies book.  There has to be one.  Clearly, I need it.

Jessica

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Heart

Thank you for wearing your heart on your sleeve.  I was hoping I wouldn't (again) be the first person to make a comment but it seemed criminal not to have someone in redroom.com acknowledge your fine piece and emotions.

I thought about grief, loss AND your writing all day as I steam vacuumed my floor ;) 

A neighbor/girlfriend had come over in the rain for a cup of tea this morning, bringing pink tulips and we talked about loss in the Buddhist sense--that all our mortal pain can be defined by loss and grief.

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No Roomba yet!  Oh, no. 

No Roomba yet!  Oh, no.  That is something to consider.

Thank you for commenting, even if it is the first and only!  I have been thinking about how loss and grief are good, are the way things are.  How things don't have to be healed all the time in order for people to move through the next part.  That sadness is what is--what else can we do?

So thank for writing and thinking about this piece.  I truly appreciate it.

And now I need a steam cleaner!

Jessica

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I cannot express to you

How beautiful that was.

I don't think any person who has gone through a divorce can give clear and valid advise as the wounds are always there. You seem to be going through exactly what most everyone has gone through. A universal process as close to death, without the dying.

A long term relationship breakup. How did I cope Jessica?

We got divorced...then we "Re-Married" As a friend would say "The biggest waste of eight hundred dollars known in the Modern Day Western Hemishpere"

I don't suggest that for anyone. All I can say is work through the pain. Don't let this cripple you. You seem like a wonderful woman. He might have been ingrained on you. But he is NOT YOU.

 

....and for the love of all that is holy and good. Please, please PLEASE don't start a blog like this one. :)

I would drink with you now. But GODDAMNIT....I'm PREGNANT!

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Yikes!!!!  That is some web

Yikes!!!!  That is some web site you linked up for me.  I couldn't read past the preamble there on the first page.

I appreciate your comments--and I am farther down the road than this blog o mine suggested.  But sometimes, there it is, the weird sadness of the truth.

We will have a drink after your baby and the breastfeeding and the fatigue!  We are both Oakland girls, I think, yes?

In any case, many, many thanks.

Jessica

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Hard Core SF SOMA Girl

But BART is close...lots of friends live in Oakland and Berk...and my old haunts were around The African American Center.

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I'm an ex SF girl at this

I'm an ex SF girl at this point.  Now an Oakland girl--and who knows where from here!

J