I went through three divorces by the time I had turned 15. I watched my Mom go through a lot of hell with some crappy guys. I watched my Dad become a very bitter person.
In what I suppose is cliché in the stories of fathers and sons, I did not want to be like my father. If there was one thing in the world I really wanted to be, it was a good husband, something that he never was. Ten years ago today I received this piece of paper telling me that I wasn’t. I have to live with that.
I thought I had done a good job of it. I certainly wanted to. Funny thing about this piece of paper though; everything you thought, felt, believed, or wanted regarding your relationship becomes irrelevant.
When my Dad heard I was married (him and I had not spoken for years when I married) he said “you’ll be sorry.” The first time I saw him after my divorce he poured out two glasses of whiskey, and after we drank them in silence he simply said “I told you so.” Like I said, bitter, but I had no response. The “fuck you” I wanted to give him seemed really empty under those circumstances.
The divorce was not my choice. All I could do was try not to become the bitter old man that my father did. Ten years later, I still have my optimism. I’m not sorry at all that I did it. I took a chance on something I really wanted. I sit here today, and although I remember the tough times, I am not thinking about what might have been. I am instead thinking about all of the possibilities for the next ten years. I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet right now.
Like the saying goes: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Things do get better.
Thank you, to all of my friends that stuck with me through those times.